17 June 1911
Born Viktor Nekrasov — writer, dissident. Author of the novella "In the Trenches of Stalingrad," one of the first books about the war written by a combat veteran. As truthful as possible:
I remember one dead soldier. He was lying on his back, his arms spread out, and a cigarette butt was stuck to his lip. A small, still-smoking cigarette butt. And it was more terrifying than anything I've seen before or since in the war. <> A minute ago, there was still life, thoughts, desires. Now—death.
At one year old, his mother took him and his brother to Lausanne, where she was studying to become a doctor. They lived in Paris and became friends with the Lunacharsky family. In 1915, they returned to their native Kyiv. His brother was killed during the Civil War—a young man who spoke French, beaten to death by Red Army soldiers.
He trained as a railway worker and architect—he designed the staircase at Askold's Tomb in Kyiv. He became an actor.
In 1941, he went to the front. He was deputy commander of a sapper battalion and fought in the Battle of Stalingrad.
The defense of Stalingrad is often called heroic. But there wasn't much heroism... perhaps even more cowardice and confusion. And stupid, senseless orders, too.
He was awarded. He was wounded twice. He was demobilized in early 1945 due to disability. In 1946, the novella "In the Trenches of Stalingrad" was published. According to the critic Lakshin, from it, "As if from Gogol's 'The Overcoat', all our honest military prose emerged."
The book was translated into 36 languages. Nekrasov was awarded the Stalin Prize, which he donated to purchase wheelchairs for former front-line soldiers.
In the 60s, he fell out of favor due to his critical statements and contacts with dissidents. He spoke out against Stalin's rehabilitation. In 1966, at a spontaneous rally in memory of the victims of Babi Yar, he said:
People of different nationalities were shot here, but only Jews were killed because they were Jews.
In 1976, by order of Glavlit, Nekrasov's books were removed from libraries. By this time, the writer had already been living in exile for two years. In 1979, he was stripped of his Soviet citizenship.
It would be better if the reader did without my books; he would understand why they are invisible... He expects the truth. I will never humiliate my reader with lies.
He died in Paris in 1987.