I just read the story of a driver who picked up a woman with children, despise the screams of his boss’s wife.
I remembered a story that my mother’s husband once told me. He is a Moscow citizen, born in 1932. In August 1941, shortly after the Germans began bombing Moscow, their class was taken somewhere to a pioneer camp, somewhere near Jasna Poljana. They lived there for a couple of months, and in October 1941 the Germans broke there... The teachers who were with them were in panic and didn’t know what to do when the director of the camp managed to brake some staff. The bus. The soldiers who were in him listened to him and briefly negotiated with each other, began to quickly throw the boys into the bus and told the soldier-driver to chase with all their strength... And they themselves stayed there... Cover... He also told that a kilometre and a half, 300 meters from the road on which they were driving, several tanks appeared, judging all the German, in one of which the tower turned, and a tankman pushed out of the lookout, but to shoot, why did they not start...
And our military remained there, to die for absolutely strange and unfamiliar children.