Section: PERSPECTIVE
Page: E1

Sunday, May 28, 1995

TULA BATTLE A KEY WIN FOR RUSSIANS IN WWII

RAY JOYCE

Earlier this month, some members of the Albany-Tula Alliance, led by its chairwoman, Charlotte Buchanan, traveled to Tula, Russia, to participate in its 50th anniversary celebration of victory in World War II.

To be a part of Tula's three-day emotional and very patriotic commemoration was a moving and unforgettable experience. Indicative of the impact of the conflict on Russians' national pride and intellect is there reference to it as ``The Great Patriotic War.'' Roman numerals somehow seem rather inadequate by comparison.

Victory in war is the ultimate bittersweet experience. Cumulative hostility, stressful emotions, extensive deprivation, immense devastation and incredible suffering and grief are not easily offset, no matter how great, how rewarding the victory. But, for a just cause, there can be no alternative.

For what then was the Soviet Union, the cost was staggering. No other single country suffered more in terms of lives lost and destruction. Twenty-seven million perished, more than 10 million of them civilians. About 1 million died of starvation in the 900-day siege of Leningrad alone and, in some instances, entire communities were lost. Defeat was not far from reality before the onslaught finally was halted and turned into a route of the invaders.

Prominent in turning the tide was the battle for Tula. Heavy Panzer attacks reached the outskirts of the city, but were turned back in fierce fighting, leading to the retreat of the Nazis and ultimate victory for the Soviet forces.

We should be eternally grateful to the good lord that not a shot was fired nor a shell exploded on our land. But, imagine if you can, Albany encircled and under siege for almost three years, with starvation claiming thousands, in addition to battle casualties. If you have a vivid imagination, you might begin to understand and appreciate the mindset and attitude of the Russian people in the intensity and sincerity of their celebration and commemoration.

Is it any wonder that the survivors want to perpetuate not only the historic significance of the war, but also the lesson it exemplifies? Those still alive, who have emotional and very personal memories, assure that those born after the war, with emphasis on school children, will not forget the sacrifice and suffering endured by the wartime generation and the tragedy and devastation that are the products of senseless, insane warfare.

May 9, Victory Day, is celebrated every year in Russia. But this year, the 50th anniversary, was special throughout the country. In Tula, a three-day holiday of commemorative events involved just about every one of the city's 600,000 residents. Emphasis in all activities was placed on tributes to the veterans who achieved the victory and on honoring the memory of those who perished both military and civilian.

Monuments seem to be everywhere in Russian cities. Large statues and expansive marble and steel structures, with descriptive bronze plaques, occupy many city parks and squares. In time for this year's celebration, a beautiful new monument in Tula, on a 13-acre plot, was completed by crews of 300 each working around the clock.

Its symbolism and impressive use of marble and stone defy description. Only personal presence and observation can adequately convey its message and emotion. Of special significance to Tulans is its location where enemy armor was stopped and turned back.

As honored guests, members of the Albany delegation were invited to participate in all major events. At formal dinners on all three nights, Charlotte Buchanan charmed our hosts with her remarks on one occasion in precise, practiced Russian.

As part of a great parade, all of us marched the entire route with the official party, from one monument to another. At each of them, Charlotte and I had the honor of carrying a wreath together in a procession of dignitaries and placing it on the site. It was moving at the end of the day to note on the grounds around the monuments thousands of individual flowers, all placed by individuals paying tribute to victims of The Great Patriotic War.

The three days were characterized by a festive, but respectful atmosphere with posters, flags and banners decorating the streets and buildings. Particularly noticeable were the veterans, both men and women, wearing rows of medals on their civilian clothes. Never has so much metal adorned the human bodies since the days of knights in armor.

I was deeply moved and honored by the gracious and friendly welcome the Russian veterans accorded me. A fellow veteran of The Great War, I had crossed the Elbe River at night in a rubber raft to meet some of their comrades a few miles from Berlin near the end of the war.

In Tula, I had the honor of addressing the veterans' dinner one evening and presenting a plaque from the New York state Department of the American Legion to an official from Moscow at the governor's dinner on another evening. Also, as a representative of U.S. veterans, I was a speaker at a major event featuring officials from Tula and Moscow. Charlotte Buchanan also was on the program representing Albany.

A rare treat was the opportunity to talk to Sergei Polyakov, the Russian cosmonaut who spent two years living in space. A Tula native, he seemed a modest, unassuming, but perceptive man. One of his observations, in discussion with some of us about global conditions and political situations, was particularly thought-provoking in view of the occasion. He remarked that, from space, he could see no boundary lines between nations, such as the protective, territorial ones drawn on maps by man. His point was obvious.

With the Albany delegation was Dr. Robert Chodos, a Navy veteran who has been to Tula a number of times with Warren Paley, a health planning expert, and Robert Gilpatrick, director of Child's Nursing Home in Albany. They have worked with Tula medical people on improving medical and health services there.

Also among the visitors was pianist Findlay Cockrell, who performed several times before enthusiastic audiences. Others were Nina Reich, a professor at Russell Sage College and the group's interpreter; Susan Filip, a member of the alliance; Carolyn Roth of Ohio, who is Susan Filip's mother, and my wife, Joan. Some of us also visited Moscow and St. Petersburg.

If there is one lesson we learned from our experience it is that people, one on one, with a sincere and honest concern for one another's needs, regardless of their background or origin, can really relate to each other in a mutually beneficial way and get things done.

Language and culture may be barriers, but they are not insurmountable. A war, firm handshake doesn't make a sound. a friendly smile is silent, but does not need any interpretation. A happy laugh is the same in any language.

All of them transcend any barrier. They are universal.

They are instinctive, natural human reactions that convey, without often confusing and inadequate words, a clearly understood and warmly accepted message of trust and understanding and mutual respect.

Perhaps a more productive, more promising future for international relations could be realized if good people could relate more directly, without the barriers of bureaucracy and nationalistic interests, one on one like the soldiers who met on the Elbe River and understood one another; like the veterans who met in Tula 50 years later and respected each other; like the good people involved in the Albany-Tula Alliance, in both cities, who share a common goal.

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