Feats and Verses of Frontline Poet Grigory Pozhenyan
Twice this daring daredevil was nominated for the title of Hero of the Soviet Union for his exploits, but it was never conferred upon him. After the Great Patriotic War, he studied at the Literary Institute, from which he was expelled twice. Yet, Grigory Pozhenyan’s verses continue to live on today. The genuine poems of a true hero.
Born on September 20, 1922, in Kharkov, his father, Mikhail Abramovich Pozhenyan, was one of the founders of the Kharkov Tractor Plant and the director of the Scientific Research Institute of Civil, Industrial, and Engineering Structures in Kharkov. His mother, Elizaveta Lvovna Kerner, was a doctor; from June 1941, she served as a Major in the medical service, head of the therapeutic department of Evakogospital No. 3336, and later No. 291 on the Leningrad Front.
In 1939, Grigory graduated from High School No. 6. In his memoirs, he later wrote that almost all the boys in his class were involved in sports, and sports taught them self-discipline. After finishing school, Grigory went to serve in the Black Sea Fleet, where he encountered the war as a senior seaman in the 1st article on the cruiser “Molotov.”
He would later write: “Neither our class – tenth ‘B’, nor our courtyard were lucky in the war. Only two of the courtyard boys returned home. As far as I know, none of the boys from our class returned from the war.”
Grigory Pozhenyan, who became a scout-saboteur during the war, was lucky. He survived all the hardships of war, although the chances of escaping were almost nonexistent. His name is also listed on the memorial plaque affixed to the house at No. 27 on Pasteur Street in Odessa, among the fallen heroes… The wounded sailor was considered dead.
Memorial plaque on which the name of Grigory Pozhenyan was engraved
Memories of that difficult operation, when in August 1941, naval scouts captured a water intake station from the enemy to supply water to the suffering city of Odessa, Grigory Mikhailovich carried with him throughout the war. Later, he wrote the script for the film “Thirst,” directed by Yevgeny Tashkov in 1959.
In the same film, the beautiful lyrical song “We Are Two Shores of the Same River” by composer Andrey Eshpai was heard. The song became so beloved and ingrained in the people that its lyrics were also considered folk. In fact, they were written by Grigory Pozhenyan.
In 1960, the film was awarded the third prize at the All-Union Film Festival in Minsk. By the way, the cinematographer of this film was Pyotr Todorovsky, who later became a screenwriter and director of famous films; for his work, he received the second prize at that time.
In the list of military awards of Grigory Mikhailovich are two Orders of the Patriotic War 1st Class, two Orders of the Red Star, the Order of the Red Banner, and the so-called Southern Bant: a set of medals “For the Defense of Odessa,” “For the Defense of Sevastopol,” and “For the Defense of the Caucasus.”
By the way, Grigory Mikhailovich saw the plaque with his name on the mourning list only after the war, but he asked to leave everything as it was.
In civilian life, he also showed courage and determination – for example, he could not stand aside when the clouds gathered over the chairman of the executive committee of the Odessa City Council. He faced dismissal for bringing Pushkinskaya Street into order without coordinating with the higher authorities the possibility of using funds allocated for other needs. Pozhenyan published an article in “Pravda” in his support and, in essence, saved the man. It is said that after this, the poet received a telegram from Odessa: “I invite you to shoot the second series of the film ‘Thirst.’ You have given water to Odessa again.”
Poster for the film “Thirst”, 1959
“Best Days of My Life…”
The poet Grigory Pozhenyan began writing poems during the war. Perhaps it was the constant danger, the line between life and death, that awakened creativity in him – he began to express thoughts and experiences in rhymed lines. Very honest and very sincere.
And the poet himself was just like that. He recalled: “I was always afraid during the war: under Odessa, under Sevastopol, in landings in Novorossiysk and Eltigen. In the snows of Looh, on the Kestenga direction, I was scared and cold. At night (if I didn’t go on reconnaissance but waited in line), I dreamed, waking up, of being wounded. But not in the head or stomach – fatally, not below the back – shamefully, but in the left hand. How many times I readily gave it away and saw myself with an empty sleeve or with a prosthesis – a brush in a black glove… But that’s at night. In the morning, I woke up and stood up, indisputable for everyone.
And it’s also scary to risk others, to send them to death. It’s scary, commanding, to decide tasks for others. It’s scary – God forbid – not to fulfill the duty. And yet, the best days of my life, strangely enough, were the days spent in the war. Never afterwards (not to mention the losses of youth), in peacetime, did I experience such heights of spirit, closeness of friendly shoulder, and unity of fate with my neighbor.”
This personal attitude towards events, when it is impossible not to help, not to fulfill one’s duty – Pozhenyan’s creed not only in war but also in life in general.
He was expelled from the Literary Institute twice. He enrolled there in 1946. According to the memories of the famous journalist Dmitry Maleev, Grigory was first expelled for refusing to speak out against the “cosmopolitan” Pavel Antokolsky.
Pozhenyan came to the meeting in a sailor’s jacket with all his combat awards and from the podium said: “I carried this poet’s book on my chest when I went into battle. If a bullet hit me, it would have gone through his book. The son of Antokolsky died on the front, he cannot defend his father. I will do it for him. I’m not afraid. I was also killed in the war. Did you want me to condemn my teacher?”
In addition to these passionate words, Pozhenyan made an indecent gesture with his hand. The outcome of his speech was clear.
The second time Pozhenyan was expelled when he was brought to court for possession of firearms. The Browning had the inscription: “Coal”. This was his front-line nickname – the real name of the scout during the war was classified. The student was saved by a telegram from Admiral Azarov. He confirmed that the weapon was given to Pozhenyan. The case was closed, and Grigory was reinstated at the institute.
Fate’s Blizzard After graduating from the institute, Pozhenyan worked as a “rope climber, stoker, and sailor,” and visited all the seas. He participated in the creation of 20 films: sometimes he was a screenwriter, more often – the author of lyrics for songs.
Front-line soldier and poet G.M. Pozhenyan
“The Song about a Friend” from the film “The Path to the Pier”, which contains the words: “If joy is the same for everyone, then sorrow is the same for everyone…” – essentially, his life credo. He knew how to be a friend and never betrayed his friends. Records of Pozhenyan’s songs (there are about 50 of them) and poems were widely popular in the country.
Pozhenyan has many works on his favorite marine theme, and the first collection, released in 1955, was called “Wind from the Sea”. In total, Grigory Mikhailovich published 30 poetry collections. For one of them – “Chase” – he received the State Prize of the RSFSR named after A.M. Gorky in 1986.
For the second time, the State Prize was awarded to him in 1995 when there was no longer a country for which he fought and which he loved with all the fervor of his broad soul. The poet painfully experienced the disputes surrounding the celebration of Victory Day, the beginning of which was laid with the collapse of the Soviet Union. He wrote about those who fought like this:
“We didn’t ask for honors, Didn’t expect awards for deeds. The common glory of Russia Was our soldier’s award.
But does a soldier need much, Who knew both sorrow and success? For the difficult happiness on a brother And the red banner for all.
Not a single word of falsehood in these lines. They are written with the heart of a man who experienced the terrible years of the whirlwind and feels the “difficult happiness” only like this.
Grigory Mikhailovich lived a good and long life. He died a day before his birthday, on September 19, 2005.
These poems are like the last word, like a line that sums up the life of a front-line soldier, a great poet of Russia, who sincerely loved his Motherland in sorrow and in joy:
Sweep, sweep, the blizzard of my fate. The verses are not afraid. I have nothing to hide behind. Everything is decided. Just as there are no two deaths, Thank God, there are no two Homelands.