A school in a partisan region read a summary. School in the partisan region

V partisan school the wrestling hall named after D. G. Mindiashvili was opened.

partisan secondary school named after P.P. Petrov. Source: 900igr.net

Partisan Medium comprehensive school them. P.P. Petrov is a municipal budgetary educational institution. The school has over 400 students and about 50 teachers.

The school was founded in 1929 on the basis of a previously functioning parochial school. In 1939, the first issue took place. In 1970, the school was named after fellow countryman Pyotr Polikarpovich Petrov, a member of the partisan movement, a delegate to the First Congress of Writers of the USSR in 1934.

In 1972, the school moved to a new three-story building located on Gagarin Street, one of the central streets of the village. For 27 years, the school has been headed by an excellent student of public education, honored teacher of the Russian Federation, director the highest category Nikolai Ilyich Khristyuk.

In 2001, a school history museum was created at the school. The work of the school museum is carried out in the following areas: the history of the village of Partizanskoye, the life and work of the fellow countryman P.P. Petrov, the history of the Great Patriotic War in the fate of countrymen and the history of the school.

In 2002, a wrestling hall named after Dmitry Georgievich Mindiashvili was built at the school. School students are indispensable participants, winners and prize-winners of tournaments of various levels.

In 2006, the school received a grant that allowed them to purchase modern equipment. In the same year, the sports club "Start" was opened at the school. Classes in the club are held in four sports: volleyball, basketball, athletics, table tennis. The club has created a mini-football team.

Currently, the school employs a qualified teaching staff. 40% of teachers are graduates of the Partizanskaya secondary school. Teachers of the highest category G. P. Esaulova, T. A. Kaufman and T. S. Khristyuk became the winners of the competition of pedagogical professional skills, which was held within the framework of the national project "Education". T. A. Kaufman is twice the winner of the regional competition pedagogical excellence. Distinguished teachers work at the school Krasnoyarsk Territory L. N. Vladimirova, T. T. Dvornikova and L. M. Sharoiko. Six teachers are excellent students of education Russian Federation, 11 teachers were awarded diplomas of the Ministry of Education and Science of the Russian Federation.

Since 1990, 11 graduates have graduated from the school with gold and 25 with silver medals.

There is a boarding school at the school, in which children from remote settlements Partizansky district. In addition, children from neighboring villages and villages are taken to school by school bus.

Partisan Secondary School named after. P. P. Petrova is located at the address: 663540, Krasnoyarsk Territory, Partizansky District, s. Partizanskoe, st. Gagarin, 93.

Nikolay Ivanovich Afanasiev

Front without rear

Notes of a partisan commander

Blessed memory commander of the 2nd Leningrad, partisan brigade, Hero Soviet Union Nikolai Grigorievich Vasiliev, I dedicate this book

For almost forty years now I have kept my notes and letters from the war years. They are very brief, they are hastily sketched on sheets of school notebooks, notebooks, just on scraps of paper. It is already difficult to read them - time ... I keep them because I know how easily the experience is forgotten, how the main thing is erased from the memory and remains completely insignificant, how after years it begins to seem that one was better than it actually was, and the other is worse . We forget a lot. Even we, who have experienced such things that we once thought it was impossible to forget.

I tried many times to start writing. There was not a day that I didn’t think about the need to tell about what I witnessed, in which I happened to participate. I felt my duty to my comrades - those with whom I met Victory, and those whose lives were sacrificed to her for four, three, two, a year before May forty-fifth. Hundreds of times took up the pen. And I always put it aside: I was afraid that I could not.

Seeing, experiencing, remembering - this is so little, I thought. It was an ordinary summer, an ordinary June. There were ordinary people, the same as they live now. And they did the usual thing. And then they had to put on boots and overcoats and for four long years to do the most terrible thing in the world - to fight. To drive cartridges into a clip, aim at someone's head, pull the trigger and know that this is someone's death, which means your life.

Take cover from bullets and expose your chest to them. Bury comrades. Retreat. Win in battle. Rush to victory and win.

All this was done by yesterday's workers, students, collective farmers, engineers, employees - not at all heroes from birth. And to imagine that their feat was somehow arranged in a special way is wrong: the war then became work, an everyday affair. Only the purpose of these everyday life was great - Victory.

From the first days guerrilla war near Leningrad and until its very end, I happened to be in the ranks. True, with a short break: wounded, evacuated to the Soviet rear, a month in the Urals hospital. I started as a commander of a small battalion, and ended up as deputy chief of the operational group of the Leningrad headquarters of the partisan movement under the Military Council of the Volkhov Front. Before my eyes, the war behind enemy lines passed through all its stages: from the inept and scattered actions of our first detachments and groups to a powerful, highly organized, unified action of many thousands of masses of the insurgent people, who liberated their land from the yoke of the invaders long before the arrival of the Red Army.

Yes, the most ordinary people rose in the forty-first to defend their homeland. But what they did - each individually and all together - gave Soviet people the right to be called a Hero.

Hundreds of books have been written about the past war. Hundreds more will be written. And yet, probably, the time will not come when there will be nothing to add to what has already been said. Partisan movement is also no exception.

Years go by. There are fewer and fewer of us veterans left alive, and there are still blank spots in the descriptions of the history of the struggle of the Leningrad partisans. And in this regard, it is we who must be the first to take up the pen today.

I want to thank all those of my comrades-in-arms who helped me in working on the manuscript. First of all - K. D. Karitsky, N. M. Gromov, G. M. Zhuravlev, B. N. Titov, A. P. Chaika, G. A. Tolyarchik, G. L. Akmolinsky, D. I. Vlasov , I. V. Vinogradov, V. P. Bad, V. P. Gordin, P. G. Matveev. Correspondence with them, conversations at meetings, exchange of opinions filled in the gaps that formed in the perception of the past over time - after all, how much has passed since the war!

Part one

"Volunteers, forward!"

A vivid manifestation of the life-giving patriotism of the Soviet people in the war is the nationwide partisan movement. The partisan movement was the most important force in the fight against the enemy. It brought panic and disorganization to its ranks. In close cooperation with Soviet soldiers partisans dealt heavy blows to the enemy.

History of the CPSU (M., Politizdat, 1974, p. 524)

FIRST DAYS

This day will forever be remembered by thousands and thousands of people. I am sure that he is remembered by everyone in details, even in the most insignificant details. And not because it was then that we realized all the inevitability and all the horror of what had happened - war! - and therefore, it seems to me that in each of the days stretching from June forty-one to May forty-fifth, everyone thought about the life that was left behind, and, of course, last days, hours, minutes of this life - joyful, happy, peaceful - we went over everything in our memory an infinite number of times, and they seemed especially beautiful.

That day was sunny. Nice summer sunday. Early in the morning I went to the shooting and hunting stand, which was located near Strelna, near the bay, in the Znamenka area. There were competitions for the championship of the city.

At that time, I was in charge of the educational and sports department of the city Committee for physical education and sports and taught part-time at the Department of Physical Education at the Leningrad Institute of Railway Engineers. I got to the stand for the first time, and the organizers of the championship enthusiastically explained the rules of the competition to me: they showed me the workshop for the production of flying targets-cymbals, the work of throwing devices, introduced me to the athletes. The composition of the participants was interesting. Young, strong guys - and next to them are older men and even old people. Women, young girls - and quite boys of twelve or fifteen years old. Students, workers, scientists, artists, engineers, schoolchildren, employees…

I then met one of the most passionate enthusiasts of this sport, the chairman of the trap shooting section, Evgeny Mikhailovich Glinternik. He was also known for writing fascinating hunting stories. Subsequently, we had the opportunity to work together for many years. It was also here that I met the artist Alexander Aleksandrovich Blinkov, who was also a passionate poster artist. By the way, he has not left his affection to this day. A few months later, our paths converged in the Partizan region.

…The competition is in full swing. Shots are fired. Flying targets scatter into small pieces. Results are counted with passion. The stormy reaction of the audience to success and no less violent - to mistakes. In a word, the boiling atmosphere of the competition. And the sky is cloudless. Quiet. And the heat. Only a strange detail: there are surprisingly many planes in the air.

On the way home, I noticed some groups of people near the Kirov factory. Some have gas mask bags over their shoulders. Some sort of revival. However, I was too carried away by the first time I saw the competition and looked out the window absently.

The next picture in the memories is the return home. They tell me that they called several times from the committee. They were asked to contact them immediately.

I dial the number - and this is deafening news: war!

The sports committee was then located on the Fontanka, in the building where the DOSAAF House is now located. Half an hour on the road, a few more minutes of waiting. Then a meeting began in the office of the chairman of the committee, A. A. Gusev.

The essence of the matter is the restructuring of the work of the Committee for Physical Culture and Sports, taking into account wartime conditions. And, as often happens in cases of a sharp change in the situation, no one, including the chairman, really knows what is really necessary, what is of paramount importance, and what is less important. Now the ideas put forward that day will seem naive and strange: about the training of sports specialists in the reserve for the army, about the organization of therapeutic exercises in military hospitals and other things like that. But who knew in those hours the scale of what happened!

T. Cat. , From the book "Children-Heroes",
Getting bogged down in a swampy swamp, falling and rising again, we went to our own - to the partisans. The Germans were raging in their native village.
And for a whole month the Germans bombed our camp. “The partisans have been destroyed,” they finally sent a report to their high command. But invisible hands again derailed trains, blew up weapons depots, destroyed German garrisons.
Summer was over, autumn was already trying on its motley, crimson outfit. It was hard for us to imagine September without school.
- Here are the letters I know! - eight-year-old Natasha Drozd once said and drew a round "O" on the sand with a stick and next to it - an uneven gate "P". Her friend drew some numbers. The girls played school, and neither one nor the other noticed how sadly and warmly the commander of the partisan detachment Kovalevsky was watching them. In the evening, at the council of commanders, he said:
- The children need a school ... - and added quietly: - You can’t deprive them of their childhood.
On the same night, Komsomol members Fedya Trutko and Sasha Vasilevsky went on a combat mission, with Pyotr Ilyich Ivanovsky with them. They returned a few days later. Pencils, pens, primers, problem books were taken out of pockets, from the bosom. Peace and home, great human concern wafted from these books here, among the swamps, where there was a mortal battle for life.
- It's easier to blow up the bridge than to get your books, - Pyotr Ilyich gleefully flashed his teeth and took out ... a pioneer bugle.
None of the partisans said a word about the risk they were exposed to. There could be an ambush in every house, but it never occurred to any of them to refuse the task, to return empty-handed. ,
Three classes were organized: first, second and third. School ... Stakes driven into the ground, intertwined with willows, a cleared area, instead of a board and chalk - sand and a stick, instead of desks - stumps, instead of a roof over your head - a disguise from German aircraft. In cloudy weather, mosquitoes overwhelmed us, sometimes snakes crawled in, but we paid no attention to anything.
How the children valued their school-glade, how they caught every word of the teacher! Textbooks accounted for one, two per class. In some subjects there were no books at all. Much was remembered from the words of the teacher, who sometimes came to the lesson directly from a combat mission, with a rifle in his hands, belted with cartridges.
The soldiers brought everything they could get for us from the enemy, but there was not enough paper. We carefully removed the birch bark from fallen trees and wrote on it with coals. There was no case that someone did not comply homework. Only those guys who were urgently sent to reconnaissance missed classes.
It turned out that we had only nine pioneers, the remaining twenty-eight guys had to be accepted as pioneers. From the parachute donated to the partisans, we sewed a banner, made a pioneer uniform. The partisans accepted the pioneers, the commander of the detachment himself tied the ties to the newly arrived. The headquarters of the pioneer squad was immediately elected.
Without stopping classes, we were building a new dugout school for the winter. A lot of moss was needed to insulate it. They pulled him out so that his fingers hurt, sometimes they tore off his nails, painfully cut his hands with grass, but no one complained. No one demanded excellent studies from us, but each of us made this demand on ourselves. And when the heavy news came that our beloved comrade Sasha Vasilevsky had been killed, all the pioneers of the squad took a solemn oath: to study even better.
At our request, the squad was given the name of a deceased friend. On the same night, in revenge for Sasha, the partisans blew up 14 German vehicles and derailed the train. The Germans threw 75 thousand punishers against the partisans. The blockade began again. Everyone who knew how to handle weapons went into battle. Families retreated into the depths of the marshes, and our pioneer team also retreated. Our clothes were frozen, we ate once a day brewed in hot water flour. But as we retreated, we seized all our textbooks. Classes continued at the new location. And we kept the oath given to Sasha Vasilevsky. During the spring examinations, all the pioneers answered without hesitation. Strict examiners - the commander of the detachment, the commissar, the teachers - were pleased with us.
As a reward the best students got the right to participate in shooting competitions. They fired from the squad leader's pistol. It was the highest honor for the guys. 3123

Getting bogged down in a swampy swamp, falling and rising again, we went to our own - to the partisans. The Germans were raging in their native village.
And for a whole month the Germans bombed our camp. “The partisans have been destroyed,” they finally sent a report to their high command. But invisible hands again derailed trains, blew up weapons depots, destroyed German garrisons.
Summer was over, autumn was already trying on its motley, crimson outfit. It was hard for us to imagine September without school.
- Here are the letters I know! - eight-year-old Natasha Drozd once said and drew a round "O" on the sand with a stick and next to it - an uneven gate "P". Her friend drew some numbers. The girls played school, and neither one nor the other noticed how sadly and warmly the commander of the partisan detachment Kovalevsky was watching them. In the evening, at the council of commanders, he said:
- The children need a school ... - and added quietly: - You can’t deprive them of their childhood.
On the same night, Komsomol members Fedya Trutko and Sasha Vasilevsky went on a combat mission, with Pyotr Ilyich Ivanovsky with them. They returned a few days later. Pencils, pens, primers, problem books were taken out of pockets, from the bosom. Peace and home, great human concern wafted from these books here, among the swamps, where there was a mortal battle for life.
“It is easier to blow up a bridge than to get your books,” Pyotr Ilyich gleefully flashed his teeth and took out ... a pioneer bugle.
None of the partisans said a word about the risk they were exposed to. There could be an ambush in every house, but it never occurred to any of them to refuse the task, to return empty-handed.
Three classes were organized: first, second and third. School ... Stakes driven into the ground, intertwined with willows, a cleared area, instead of a board and chalk - sand and a stick, instead of desks - stumps, instead of a roof over your head - a disguise from German aircraft. In cloudy weather, mosquitoes overwhelmed us, sometimes snakes crawled in, but we paid no attention to anything.
How the children valued their school-glade, how they caught every word of the teacher! Textbooks accounted for one, two per class. In some subjects there were no books at all. Much was remembered from the words of the teacher, who sometimes came to the lesson directly from a combat mission, with a rifle in his hands, belted with cartridges.
The soldiers brought everything they could get for us from the enemy, but there was not enough paper. We carefully removed the birch bark from fallen trees and wrote on it with coals. There was no case that someone did not do their homework. Only those guys who were urgently sent to reconnaissance missed classes.
It turned out that we had only nine pioneers, the remaining twenty-eight guys had to be accepted as pioneers. From the parachute donated to the partisans, we sewed a banner, made a pioneer uniform. The partisans accepted the pioneers, the commander of the detachment himself tied the ties to the newly arrived. The headquarters of the pioneer squad was immediately elected.
Without stopping classes, we were building a new dugout school for the winter. A lot of moss was needed to insulate it. They pulled him out so that his fingers hurt, sometimes they tore off his nails, painfully cut his hands with grass, but no one complained. No one demanded excellent studies from us, but each of us made this demand on ourselves. And when the heavy news came that our beloved comrade Sasha Vasilevsky had been killed, all the pioneers of the squad took a solemn oath: to study even better.
At our request, the squad was given the name of a deceased friend. On the same night, in revenge for Sasha, the partisans blew up 14 German vehicles and derailed the train. The Germans threw 75 thousand punishers against the partisans. The blockade began again. Everyone who knew how to handle weapons went into battle. Families retreated into the depths of the marshes, and our pioneer team also retreated. Our clothes were frozen, we ate flour boiled in hot water once a day. But as we retreated, we seized all our textbooks. Classes continued at the new location. And we kept the oath given to Sasha Vasilevsky. During the spring examinations, all the pioneers answered without hesitation. Strict examiners - the commander of the detachment, the commissar, the teachers - were pleased with us.
As a reward, the best students were given the right to participate in shooting competitions. They fired from the squad leader's pistol. It was the highest honor for the guys.

(G.KOT former deputy chief of staff of the pioneer squad named after Sasha Vasilevsky)