Scenario childhood and war in a children's library. Scenario of an open event. Musical and literary composition – “Children of War.” Scenario for the extracurricular event “Children of War”

The script “Dedicated to the children of war...”

Goal and tasks:

To expand the knowledge of schoolchildren about the war, about how difficult it was for children to survive the hard times;

To convey to students the idea of ​​​​the incompatibility of the concepts of “childhood” and “war”;

Teach expressive reading;

To promote education in the spirit of kindness and mercy, compassion and respect for the human person.

01_Children of War

Dramatization of the poem R. Rozhdestvensky “Overheard Conversation.”

Reader 1 (mother):

– Were you fighting in the yard again?..

Reader 2 (girl):

- Yeah!
Mother,
But I didn't cry!..
I'll grow up -
I'll train to be a sailor.
I'm already in the bath
Swim!..

Reader 1 (mother):

- God,
Not a girl, but a disaster!
I have no more strength...

Reader 2 (girl):

- Mother,
When will I grow up?..

Reader 1 (mother):

- You will grow up!
Eat a cutlet...

Reader 3 (boy):

- Mother,
Shall we buy a live horse?..

Reader 1 (mother):

- Horse?!
Why is this being done!..

Reader 3 (boy):

- Mother,
Will they accept me as a pilot?..

Reader 1 (mother):

- They will accept.
Where will they go?!
You are one of everyone, Satan,
Soul
Can you shake it out!..

Reader 3 (boy):

- Mother,
Is it true that there will be a war?
And I won't have time to grow up?

02_Yu.Levitan. "From the message about Germany's treacherous attack on the USSR."

The terrible word WAR: it destroys and kills what is called life, peace, childhood... How many children's lives it took in the first, second and all subsequent terrible days of this truly terrible catastrophe... Many of these children were still in a small cradle, others in their arms their mothers, others sat at school desks. No one knew how long it would last, how many lives it would take with it, and when these days and years that they had to endure would end...

Reader 4:Elena Tashcheva"On the Minsk Highway"

Little legs are tired of walking,

But he obediently continues on his way.

Just yesterday I wanted to be near the road

He can fall asleep in the field daisies.

And his mother carried him, losing strength,

On the way, the minutes lasted like days.

All the time it was not clear to my son,

Why did they leave their home?

What do the explosions, the crying, this road mean?

And why is he worse than the other guys?

What's on the green grass by the ditch,

Do they sleep with their arms outstretched next to their mother?

How hard it is to listen to questions...

Could the mother answer the baby?

What do these children, sleeping by the birch tree,

That these mothers will never get up?

But the son stubbornly asked questions,

And someone explained to him on the way,

That it was the undead mothers who were sleeping,

Those who did not have time to escape the bomb.

And he thought to the clang of iron machines,

As if I suddenly understood the grief of adults, -

In his eyes, recently serene,

Conscious fear was already creeping in.

And so childhood ended. He was no longer the same.

He walked and walked. And to save my mother,

I jealously watched the June sky

A little boy, gray with dust, about six years old.

Reader 5:Alexey Bragin“Father was taken to war...”

My father was taken to war.

....The boy is a latch,

But she immediately added to him

The war has been going on for so many years.

“So what, mother?

So, mother?

Am I the head of the house?

You start washing the clothes,

And I'm chopping wood!

You say:

Drovets is a bit

Left.

So be it

Sell ​​the elephant

Sell ​​your whistle!

You can live without them!

Sell ​​the sailor suit, I say!

Now there's no time for rags,

Only you, mom,

Do not be sad!

I won’t leave you!”

Reader 6:Victor Yaganov"Children of war"

Pot with steamed wheat
On the very edge of the table.
Three children's thin hands -
Like three fragile wings.
And outside the window is the February wind
Reminds me of spring.
And it seems there is no one in the world
Steamed wheat tastes better.

And the oldest is only eight -
For the younger ones, a nanny is available every day.
And if they come into the house and ask -
He will answer simply, not for the first time:
- And our mother is at the factory,
There is a folder on the front (third year),
It's like I'm at work too:
Finish his shift and come.

03_Dedicated to the children of war

Is a child who went through the horror of war a child? Who will give him back his childhood? What does he remember? What can it tell? Much…

Reader 7:Victor Pakhomov“We all have scores to settle with the war...”

We all have scores to settle with the war.

It was the forty-first bitter year...

In the midst of harvesting work

A plane was circling above us.

We, falling into exhaustion,

They shouted “Mom!” every time.

And mother from the winged shadow

She covered us with herself.

He didn't shoot, he was having fun, -

The cartridges are apparently on the shore.

But suddenly it broke out of the clouds

Our red star hawk.

How my mother cried with happiness,

Hugging my sister and me,

When, falling apart,

A vulture flashed among the grasses.

We ran up and looked dumbly,

And my legs filled with lead:

From under a torn helmet

The woman's face turned white.

Open mouth, false teeth,

And a trickle of sweat is not a tear.

And brightly painted lips,

And eyeliner.

The grass whispered in fear

In the shadow of a broken wing...

I couldn’t believe that this Frau

She was someone's mother.

Reader 8:Sergey Mikhalkov"Ten Year Man"

Criss-cross blue stripes

On the windows of shrunken huts.

Native thin birch trees

They look anxiously at the sunset.

And the dog on the warm ashes,

Smeared in ash up to the eyes,

He's been looking for someone all day

And he doesn’t find it in the village...

Throwing on an old zip coat,

Through the gardens, without roads,

The boy is in a hurry, in a hurry

In the sun - directly east.

No one on a long journey

Didn't dress him warmer

Nobody hugged me at the door

And he didn’t look after him.

In an unheated, broken bathhouse

Passing the night like an animal,

How long has he been breathing

I couldn’t warm my cold hands!

But never on his cheek

No tears paved the way.

Must be too much at once

His eyes saw it.

Having seen everything, ready for anything,

Falling chest-deep into the snow,

He ran to his fair-haired

Ten year old man.

He knew that somewhere nearby,

Perhaps behind that mountain,

Him as a friend on a dark evening

The Russian sentry will call out.

Reader 9:Ivan Poltavtsev"Postman"

In a village scorched by war,

I plowed the land, mowed the rye...

He was also a young postman:

He spread sadness to people.

It was as if they were waiting for me,

Shouldn't I go into their gate?

But they saw us off with relief,

If I pass by the house.

Two or more funerals

I brought each one to the family

And I saw horrors and groans...

But the demand for letters increased.

I dreamed about him... And not in vain... -

The “soldier” is fiddling with the leaf...

Although it happened very often:

The letter is on the way, and he is killed.

Reader 10:E. Vinokurov.

Yesterday we wrote dictations,
They drew circles on the boards,
And in the morning the quartermasters are already
We were given boots.

In a wide army overcoat
We seemed small in stature
We sang songs passionately,
They scraped the floors in a guilty manner.

When, going to training,
We got our feet wrong sometimes:
- Twenty-fifth year
birthday!
They nodded at us with a grin.

But the front has arrived!
We've grown up
in battles day by day,
Making friends with a neighbor before the battle,
Friends are buried after battles.

Guns, tanks, carts
Thundered through the cities,
And they sang in Czech and Polish
Cheerful girls for us.

And at the hour when the stars are cold,
Over the numb river
German accordions
Wept with Ryazan melancholy...

04_Children and war (everyone reads with music in the background)

Children of war... They grew up early and quickly... They learned to read from Sovinformburo reports and gray funeral sheets. Everything is nearby: an explosion, a school, a funeral. School life, regular, boring, according to a schedule, turns out to be so necessary. Truly, something must be lost to be truly appreciated.

Reader 11:Vladimir Portnov"The Ballad of the Notebook"

Paper bags, cut into notebooks,

the father linted with a wounded hand.

And at first I ironed them,

and only then solved problems in them.

But it was impossible to smooth them out:

dents, like potholes in roads.

And no matter how carefully I moved my pen,

Unfortunately, I couldn’t do without the blot.

They carried mail in bags on a three-ton truck,

in the dreams of the saints the whole city was waiting for letters,

but more often funerals came.

The father handed them out with a wounded hand.

He became darker every day

and finally, on a gray autumn day, he said:

“I have no strength... Write more densely...

I’ll go back to the front... Save your notebooks.”

And I have been without a father for many years now.

And for many years I have been saving the notebook,

keeping the bag in a tight fold,

not completely lined.

Reader 12. Anatoly PEREDREEV. "I LEARNED TO WRITE"

I learned to write...
Past the school - columns, columns
Rippled by the river
And they fell into an invisible front...
I learned to write
Slowly, with pressure, with an inclination.
And the steel creaked
Khaki feather.
I learned to write...
Anti-aircraft guns fired feverishly,
Conquering from the war
Islands of silence.
And I carried it in my pockets
Heavy torn ingots,
Like hot meteorites of war.
I learned to write...
Somewhere tanks were melting,
Somewhere people were screaming
Dying in fire and smoke...
I learned to write
Expositions about Kashtanka,
I learned to suffer
Over the fate of Gerasim and Mumu.
I learned to write
And crispy bread cards
Took me away from myself
By cell
Mother.
So that I don't feel sick
So that I don't wander around at my desk...
I learned to write!..

05_For children, home front workers

During the war, there was an acute shortage of labor. After all, those who previously stood behind the machine, sowed and harvested grain, drove trains and cars, now defended their Motherland. And the children of soldiers understood this and took the jobs of their fathers. They, like adults, stood for 12-14 hours, maintaining their strength with meager rations...

Reader 13:Victor Radkevich"The Ballad of a Jar of Jam"

Why did you, war, steal their childhood from the boys?

And the blue sky and the smell of a simple flower?

The boys of the Urals came to work in the factories,

They positioned the boxes to reach the machine.

And now, in the incorruptible winter of the war year,

When the cold dawn broke over the Kama,

The director of the plant gathered the best workers,

And he was a worker - only fourteen years old.

Harsh time looked into tired faces,

But everyone found a pre-war childhood in themselves,

As soon as the work bonus - a jar of jam -

In front of us, the boys, someone put it on the table.

And here, above the factory, above the forest, dozing off in the snow,

Among the silence that suddenly came to the hearts

There was a whiff of something long forgotten, homely,

It was as if there were no more wars in the world.

...Ah, a jar of jam, a simple and sure remedy

To remind you that no matter how bitter life is for people,

But the boys will still have sun and childhood,

And the blue sky and the smell of a simple flower!

Children sewed pouches for soldiers at the front, knitted mittens, wrote letters dictated by wounded soldiers, performed concerts in hospitals...

Reader 14:Robert Rozhdestvensky"Concert"

Forty difficult years.
Omsk Hospital:
The corridors are dry and dirty.
The old nanny whispers:
"God!..
How small the artists are:"
We walk in long chambers.
We almost disappear into them
With balalaikas, with mandolins
And large stacks of books:
What's in the program?
The program includes reading,
A couple of songs
Military, correct:
We are in the ward of the seriously wounded
We enter with trepidation and respect:
Two are here.
Artillery Major
With an amputated leg,
In a crazy battle near Yelnya
Taking fire upon himself.
He looks at the aliens cheerfully:
And the other one -
Bandaged up to the eyebrows, - captain,
Ramming the Messer
Three weeks ago over Rostov:
We entered.

(A group of guys comes out)

We stand in silence:
Suddenly breaking falsetto
Abrikosov Mishka desperately
Announces the start of the concert.

And behind him, not quite completely,
But I sang with all my might, listening
We sing about the folk, about the sacred,
How we understand it:
Someone else's iron melts in it,
In it, death must recede.
To be honest,
We like it
This kind of war:
We sing:

06_Ah, those blue clouds

We sing:
Only the pilot's voice can be heard.
And there is a reproach in it:
"Wait:
Wait a minute, guys:
Wait:
The major died: "
Balalaika cried sadly.
Hastily, as if delirious...
That's all about the concert in the hospital that year...

07_They were only 13

There are legends about the courageous defenders of Leningrad. Being in a blockade ring, in hunger and cold, the inhabitants died, but did not give up. Pages from the diary of 11-year-old Tanya Savicheva tell about the terrible tragedy of those days.

Reader 15.

It's only nine pages long. Six of them have dates on them. Behind every date there is death. Six pages - six deaths. Concise, laconic notes: “December 28, 1941. Zhenya died... Grandmother died on January 25, 1942. March 17 – Leka died. Uncle Vasya died on April 13. May 10 – Uncle Lesha. Mom – May 15th.” And then, without a date: “The Savichevs died. Everyone died. There is only Tanya left.”

Tanya, who had lost consciousness from hunger, was discovered by orderlies visiting Leningrad houses. Life barely glimmered in her. Together with 140 other Leningrad children exhausted by hunger, the girl was evacuated to the Gorky (now Nizhny Novgorod) region, to the village of Shatki. Residents brought whatever they could to the children, fed and warmed the orphan souls. Many of the children got stronger and got back on their feet. But Tanya never got up. Doctors fought for the life of the young Leningrader for 2 years, but the disastrous processes in her body turned out to be irreversible. Tanya's arms and legs were shaking and she was tormented by terrible headaches.

08_Requiem

Reader 16 (reads against background music): Ilya Malyshev.Poem about Tanya

9 pages. Scary lines.
No commas, just black dots.
Empty and quiet in the frozen apartment.
It seems there is no more joy in the world.
If only everyone could have a piece of bread,
Maybe the diary was just a line short.
“Hunger took away my mother and grandmother.
No more strength and no more tears.
Uncle, sister and brother died
Death by starvation...” Leningrad was empty.
Everyone died. What to do. Blockade.
Hunger is taking away the people of Leningrad.
Quiet in the apartment. Only Tanya is alive.
There is so much suffering in a small heart!
Everyone died! There is no one else.
The girl Tanya is 11 years old.
I'll tell you what happened next:
Evacuation, bread and orphanage
Where after hunger, all the trials
Everyone survived, only Tanya died.
The girl is gone, but the diary remains -
A child's heart, tears and screams.
Children dreamed of a crust of bread...
Children were afraid of the military sky.
This diary from the Nuremberg trials
It was a terrible and weighty document.
People cried while reading the lines.
People cried, cursing fascism.
Tanya's diary is the pain of Leningrad,
But everyone needs to read it.
It’s as if the page behind the page is screaming:
“This shouldn’t happen again!..”

09_We remember

The most disadvantaged children of the war are young prisoners of fascist concentration camps. Their home, their mother's affection was taken away from them, their homeland, freedom, life was taken away from them... SALASPILS, BUCHENWALD, AUSCHEWZIM... - these are the names of those death camps where human, and especially children's life did not mean anything, was a bargaining chip. From memories: “I was sent to the Baltic camp when I was 12 years old. They settled us at the hospital and made us donors. Many had their blood drained to the last drop by direct transfusion. When I was completely exhausted, I was infected with tuberculosis and sent to another camp for extermination. She survived miraculously...” Almost no one remembers these children anymore. In the concentration camp museums, all that remained from them were piles of selected dolls and small shoes and shoes...

Reader 17:Oleg Maslov"In Auschwitz"

And I raised my eyes to the sky,

Looking at him, it seems, -

It was awkward in front of people

So that tears flow from them.

Here behind the barrier in front of me -

Booties, shoes... Really?

All their owners here burned,

Saved by bitter smoke and ash?!

Here is a photo: child

He looks at the guard, not believing,

That this uncle is worse than a beast

And he throws it into the oven jokingly.

I'm leaving. Hurry, hurry!

Oh, these white paths -

Scattered bones crumbs

The current museum was paved.

And that tear - let it be for me

Will not let you live peacefully in the world,

So that our children don’t find out

What does captivity, fascism, war mean?

Reader 18:Sergey Mikhalkov"Children's Shoe"

Listed in the column

With pure German precision,

It was in the warehouse

Among adult and children's shoes.

His book number:

"Three thousand two hundred and nine."

"Children footwear. Worn.

Right shoe. With a patch..."

Who repaired it? Where?

In Melitopol? In Krakow? In Vienna?

Who wore it? Vladek?

Or the Russian girl Zhenya?..

How did he get here, into this warehouse?

Damn on this list

Under serial number

"Three thousand two hundred and nine"?

Wasn't there another one?

There are roads in the whole world,

Except the one by which

These baby feet have arrived

To this terrible place

Where they hung, burned and tortured,

And then in cold blood

Were the clothes of the dead counted?

Here in all languages

They tried to pray for salvation:

Czechs, Greeks, Jews,

French, Austrians, Belgians.

The earth has absorbed here

The smell of decay and spilled blood

Hundreds of thousands of people

Different nations and different classes...

The hour of reckoning has come!

Executioners and murderers - on your knees!

The judgment of nations is coming

Following the bloody trail of crimes.

Among hundreds of clues -

This children's boot has a patch.

Taken from the victim by Hitler

Three thousand two hundred and nine.

The memory of generations is inextinguishable
And the memory of those whom we sacredly honor.
Come on people, let's stand for a moment.
And in grief we will stand and be silent...

10_Minute of silence. Metronome.

Yes, the war brought a lot of grief to the Russian people. There probably wasn’t a family in the country that wasn’t affected by the war...

Reader 19:Igor Eremin"Return from War"

I was waiting for my father to come as a hero,

Delighting with the glow of awards

And in that solemn mood,

With whom at least immediately to the parade.

So childhood amuses itself with an idea,

And reality is like snow on your head

Entered the gate with a skinny bag

Semi-familiar person.

No way to make him like this

I didn’t wait after the send-off.

There was a hand in a sling

And there is only one order.

And the sparkle in his sad eyes

It only highlighted the traces of the ordeal.

And the smell of hospitals was thick

Medicines ingrained into clothes.

And what in that moment: love, or pity,

Or both of these feelings at once

I felt it?.. But somehow I shrank

Soul that tears suddenly come from your eyes!

Reader 20: Well, well, son! - And, I’m ready

About to shed a tear, father

He pulled me towards him with his good hand:

“Don’t cry,” he said. - The war is over!

And he handed over the bag, distracting

From sad feelings... Like, look,

God knows what kind of handbag,

But there is something inside her.

I took a gift for a gift,

And each: a flask on a belt,

Or an electric flashlight -

A living delight was born in me.

And so he knew, he caught my eye,

What, looking from the outside,

The father himself began to smile,

Looking younger than before the war.

Reader 19: As if someone had opened the curtains

And a ray of sun fell on him.

And he shone on his tunic

Order with victorious splendor.

Then, really, as if at a parade,

We walked with him along the village street.

And so much in every oncoming glance

I saw light and warmth!

Neighbors approached my father.

Well, he’s alive, but there are others

How they spent it in '41,

So at least hear from them.

And hugged while talking,

Like your brother

And they congratulated someone on the victory,

Who welcomes him back.

Reader 21:Valery Cherkesov

I won’t come to my father’s grave,

Because I don't know from birth,

Where and in what year did he die?

Fatherless generation.

Dad! - I called at night. Alas,

Didn't respond, didn't show up,

Didn't stroke my head -

As if he had never returned from the front.

Oh war, you came back like that

In our destinies and souls!

Unwittingly

I clench my hot fist...

It hurts, it hurts, father!

How it hurts us.

Reader 22:Victor Yaganov"Present"

This is history. I didn't remember that.
I was still very young then.
I was only three years old then.
The 24th was June.
Everything is behind us: losses and troubles.
Everything is ahead: deeds and accomplishments.
Year 45, Victory Parade
On my birthday.
Mom, what was the weather like?
Mainly cloudy,
Did the rain fall on the succulent grasses?
Only I willingly believe in my heart:
Everyone's heart was clear
And sunny.
The swastika of death is no more evil symbol,
The swastika of death is like a sign of conquest,
Fell to the foot of the Mausoleum,
To the children's feet of my generation.
Motherland, accept this message:
Thank you for saving us
Like shoots
Thank you for
What are you doing on your birthday?
She gave us the Victory Parade.

Reader 23: Grandfather. Unknown author.

Once upon a time my grandfather
I was a boy like me.
Only his childhood was difficult,
Because there was a war.
I know about her from books,
I saw her in the movies -
And grandfather was a boy:
True, that was a long time ago.
He told me how it used to be
Throwing away the toys
Worked with old and young,
To help the soldiers at the front.
And he also remembered how mom
To save your children,
Added bran to the dough
And she baked this bread in the oven.
And my grandfather also told me,
What's made from potato peels?
The soup was cooked, and everyone was very happy,
This holiday was for children.
Of course, I'm not a stupid guy,
I can understand everything, but I can’t
I can't imagine
For children to live like this:
I want you, grandpa, honey,
Give sweets and chocolate.
At least now you can eat to your heart's content,
And let childhood come back!

11_Great-grandfather (children give chocolate to veterans and ALL go on stage)

Reader 24:

Not burned by the forties,
With hearts rooted in silence, -
Of course, we look with different eyes
For our big war.
We know from confused, difficult stories
About the bitter victorious path,
Therefore, at least our mind should
Go through the road of suffering!

12_And all about that war

Every year on May 9, in all corners of our country, near the Eternal Flame, the descendants of those who, having accomplished their feats of arms, bequeathed us to live in peace and harmony, giving their lives for it, stand guard of honor. And may the flame of the Eternal Flame, lit as a symbol of memory of the victims of fascism, as a symbol of grief for the dead and the greatest pride for the unparalleled courage shown in battles, illuminate our path to peace, awaken our conscience, so that we do not forget the lessons of history and prevent a repetition tragedy. May the sun always shine, the birds sing, the fields turn green, but never on the emerald grass, instead of dew, drops of someone’s innocent blood sparkle!

Reader 25:

I'll draw a bright sun!
I'll paint a blue sky!
I'll draw a light in the window!
I'll draw ears of bread!
We will draw autumn leaves,
School, stream, restless friends.
And cross it out with our common brush
Shots, explosions, fire and war!
Raise the pictures above
So that everyone can see them,
So that everyone can hear today
The voice of young citizens of the Earth!

13_Let there always be sun (children hold up drawings that depict a bright sun, blue sky, ears of bread, etc., sing)

Children leave the stage

14_maybe there was no war?

Back forward

Attention! Slide previews are for informational purposes only and may not represent all the features of the presentation. If you are interested in this work, please download the full version.

Target: To form students’ understanding of the Great Patriotic War and its heroes. To show what great historical significance Victory Day – May 9 – has in the history of the development of our country. Promote interest in the history of your Fatherland. Development and education of patriotic feelings using vivid examples of the heroism of our army, courage and courage of the people. To cultivate a sense of duty, patriotism, love for the Motherland and the awareness that the duty of every citizen is to protect the Motherland.

Progress of extracurricular activities

Teacher: Every year on May 9, our entire country celebrates Victory Day in the Great Patriotic War. And we dedicate our today’s lesson on citizenship and patriotism to this topic.

Dear Guys! Today we have gathered to remember and honor the memory of girls and boys just like you, who loved to sing songs and play. Study, live in friendship. But for such a life, they had to pay too high a price.

What do people dream about most? All good people want peace on Earth, so that bullets will never whistle on our planet, shells will not explode, and children and all life on Earth will not die from these bullets and shells. Let us remember today that terrible phenomenon, which is briefly called “war”. As long as people can remember, they have been fighting among themselves. It is difficult to say how long humanity lived in “absolute peace” - apparently, quite a bit. Primitive tribes fought among themselves, ancient states fought. In the Middle Ages, the war, called the Hundred Years, lasted for more than a hundred years. There have been many wars on earth, and even now they do not stop. We will remember the war, which is not called the Great for nothing. How much grief it brought, how many human lives it took from different nations. In those years, the entire globe was in alarm. But it was the children who suffered the most. They showed so much courage and heroism, standing up like adults to defend our country. Children took part in battles, fought both in partisan detachments and behind enemy lines. Many died.

“Dedicated to the children of war” (1st slide)

“Children and war - there is no more terrible convergence of opposite things in the world.” A. Tvardovsky.

Not sparing yourself in the fire of war,
Sparing no effort in the name of the Motherland,
Children of the heroic country
They were real heroes!
R. Rozhdestvensky.

Teacher: Before the war, these were the most ordinary boys and girls. They studied, helped their elders, played, ran and jumped, broke their noses, and the hour came - they showed how huge a small child’s heart can become when sacred love for the Motherland and hatred for its enemies flares up in it. Little heroes of the big war. They fought alongside their elders - fathers, brothers. They fought everywhere. At sea, in the sky, in a partisan detachment, in the Brest Fortress, in the Kerch catacombs, underground, in factories. And the young hearts did not waver for a moment! Their matured childhood was filled with such trials that, even if a very talented writer had invented them, it would have been difficult to believe. But it was. It was in the history of our great country, it was in the destinies of its little children - ordinary boys and girls. “June 1941” (2nd slide) On that distant summer day, June 22, 1941, people were doing their usual business. Schoolchildren were preparing for their prom. Girls built huts and played “mothers and daughters”, restless boys rode on wooden horses, imagining themselves as Red Army soldiers. And no one suspected that pleasant chores, lively games, and many lives would be destroyed by one terrible word - war. Not with ringing fires, but with a bitter, sizzling fire, the earth broke out at the June dawn of forty-first. Children of war. They grew up early and quickly. This is a childish burden, a war, and they drank it in full measure.

“War does not have a childish face” (3rd slide.) The song "Holy War" is playing

1 student:

Sunny early morning in June,
At the hour when the country awakened,
Sounded for the first time for young people -
This is the terrible word “War”.

2nd student:

To reach you, forty-fifth,
Through hardship, pain and misfortune,
The boys left their childhood
In the forty-first year.

On June 22, 1941, a big, brutal war began. Our entire people rose up to fight the Nazi invaders. Both old and young went to the front. Our soldiers left in trains to defend their Motherland, not yet knowing that the war would not end soon.

4 slide “Everything for the front, everything for victory”- the motto sounded everywhere. And in the rear there were women, old people, children. They faced many trials. They dug trenches, stood at machine tools, extinguished incendiary bombs on the roofs. It was hard.

"Fathers to the front, children to the factories" 5.6 slides. Boys. Girls. The weight of adversity, disaster, and grief of the war years fell on their fragile shoulders. Children died from bombs and shells, they died of hunger in besieged Leningrad, they were thrown alive into the huts of Belarusian villages engulfed in fire, they were turned into walking skeletons and burned in the crematoria of concentration camps. And they did not bend under this weight. We became stronger in spirit, more courageous, more resilient. Very young fighters fought on the front lines and in partisan detachments along with adults. Before the war, these were the most ordinary boys and girls. We studied, helped elders, played, ran and jumped, broke our noses and knees. Only their relatives, classmates and friends knew their names. Little heroes of the big war. They fought alongside their elders - fathers, brothers. They fought everywhere. At sea, like Borya Kuleshin. In the sky, like Arkasha Kamanin. In a partisan detachment, like Lenya Golikov. In the Brest Fortress, like Valya Zenkina. In the Kerch catacombs, like Volodya Dubinin. In the underground, like Volodya Shcherbatsevich. And their young hearts did not waver for a moment. In those days, boys and girls, your peers, grew up early: they did not play at war, they lived according to its harsh laws. The greatest love for their people and the greatest hatred for the enemy called the children of the fiery forties to defend their Motherland.

Student 1.

Young beardless heroes,
You remain young forever.

We stand without raising our eyelids.
Pain and anger are the reason now
Eternal gratitude to you all,
Little tough men
Girls worthy of poems.

Student 2.

How many of you? Try to list
You won’t, but it doesn’t matter,
You are with us today, in our thoughts,
In every song, in the light noise of leaves,
Quietly knocking on the window.

Student 3.

And we seem three times stronger,
As if they too were baptized by fire,
Young beardless heroes,
In front of your suddenly revived formation
We are walking mentally today.

Teacher: Many young heroes died in the struggle for peace and freedom of our Motherland during the Great Patriotic War. You will see their portraits today, it’s as if they are with us.

The heroes will not be forgotten, believe me!
Even if the war ended long ago,
But still all children
The names of the dead are called out.

Stories about heroes (accompanied by a slide show)

Valya Zenkina (slides 7,8) The Brest Fortress was the first to take the enemy’s blow. Bombs and shells exploded, walls collapsed, people died both in the fortress and in the city of Brest. From the first minutes, Valya’s father went into battle. He left and did not return, died a hero, like many defenders of the Brest Fortress. And the Nazis forced Valya to make her way into the fortress under fire in order to convey to its defenders the demand to surrender. Valya made her way into the fortress, talked about the atrocities of the Nazis, explained what weapons they had, indicated their location and stayed to help our soldiers. She bandaged the wounded, collected cartridges and brought them to the soldiers. There was not enough water in the fortress, it was divided by sip. The thirst was painful, but Valya again and again refused her sip: the wounded needed water. When the command of the Brest Fortress decided to take the children and women out from under fire and transport them to the other side of the Mukhavets River - there was no other way to save their lives - the little nurse Valya Zenkina asked to be left with the soldiers. But an order is an order, and then she vowed to continue the fight against the enemy until complete victory. And Valya kept her vow. Various trials befell her. But she survived. She survived. And she continued her struggle in the partisan detachment. She fought bravely, along with adults. For courage and bravery, the Motherland awarded its young daughter the Order of the Red Star.

Zina Portnova(slide 9) – underground worker. The war found Zina in the village where she came for the holidays. She took part in daring operations against the enemy and distributed leaflets. She was betrayed by a traitor. The brave young patriot was brutally tortured, but remained steadfast until the last minute. She distributed leaflets, knowing German, and obtained important information about the enemy behind enemy lines. Executed by the Germans and posthumously awarded the title of Hero of the Soviet Union.

Valya Kotik(slide 10,11) - Born in the village of a collective farm carpenter in the Ukrainian village of Khmelevka.

At the age of 6 I went to school. On November 7, 1939, at a ceremonial gathering, he was accepted into the pioneers. He became an underground worker, then joined the partisans, and daring boyish attacks with sabotage and arson began. A young partisan, he had the skills of conspiracy, collecting weapons for the partisans right under the noses of the Nazis. He lived for 14 years and another week, was awarded the Order of the Patriotic War, 1st degree, and was buried in the kindergarten in front of the school where he studied. The Presidium of the Supreme Soviet of the USSR awarded him the title of Hero of the Soviet Union. The famous Soviet poet Mikhail Svetlov dedicated poems to the young partisan:

We remember the recent battles; more than one feat was accomplished in them. A brave boy, Kitty Valentin, has joined the family of our glorious heroes.

Marat Kazei(slide 12,13) ​​- partisan intelligence officer, he obtained a lot of useful information. During the next reconnaissance, he was surrounded by the Nazis, waited until the ring closed, and blew himself up along with his enemies. Marat was a scout at the headquarters of the partisan brigade named after. K.K. Rokossovsky. I went on reconnaissance missions, both alone and with a group. Participated in raids. He blew up the echelons. For the battle in January 1943, when, wounded, he roused his comrades to attack and made his way through the enemy ring, Marat received the medal “For Courage” and “For Military Merit.” On May 11, 1944, returning from a mission, Marat and the reconnaissance commander stumbled upon the Germans. The commander was killed immediately, Marat, firing back, lay down in a hollow. There was nowhere to leave in the open field, and there was no opportunity - Marat was seriously wounded. While there were cartridges, he held the defense, and when the magazine was empty, he picked up his last weapon - two grenades, which he did not remove from his belt. He threw one at the Germans, and left the second. When the Germans came very close, he blew himself up along with the enemies. The title of Hero of the Soviet Union was awarded to Marat Kazei in 1965, 21 years after his death. In Minsk, a monument was erected to the hero, depicting a young man a moment before his heroic death.

Lenya Golikov(slide 14). He was, like us, a schoolboy. Lived in a village in the Novgorod region. In 1941, he became a partisan, went on reconnaissance missions, and together with his comrades blew up enemy warehouses and bridges. Lenya hit a car with a grenade in which the fascist general Richard Wirtz was driving. The general rushed to run, but Lenya killed the invader with a well-aimed shot, took the briefcase with valuable documents and took him to the partisan camp. In December 1942, the partisan detachment was surrounded by the Germans. After fierce fighting, they managed to break through the encirclement, leaving 50 people in the ranks. Food and ammunition were running out. At night in January 1943, 27 partisans came to the village of Ostro-Luka. They occupied three huts, reconnaissance did not notice the German garrison located nearby. In the morning, fighting back, we had to retreat to the forest. In that battle, the entire brigade headquarters and Lenya Golikov were killed. For his heroic feat in the fight against the Nazi invaders and special services in organizing the partisan movement, Lenya Golikov was posthumously awarded the title of Hero of the Soviet Union.

Slide 15,16 : "Leningrad Children"... When these words were heard in the Urals and beyond the Urals, in Tashkent and Kuibyshev, in Alma-Ata and Frunze, a person’s heart sank. The war brought grief to everyone, but most of all to children. So much had befallen them that everyone wanted to take at least part of this nightmare off their children’s shoulders. “Leningraders” sounded like a password. And everyone rushed to meet us in every corner of our country. Throughout their lives, people who survived the blockade carried a reverent attitude towards every crumb of bread, trying to ensure that their children and grandchildren never experienced hunger and deprivation. This attitude turns out to be more eloquent than words.

Footage about Tanya Savicheva: slide 17 Song “Leningrad Boys” (click).

Among the incriminating documents presented at the Nuremberg trials was a small notebook from Leningrad schoolgirl Tanya Savicheva. It's only nine pages long. Six of them have dates. And behind each one is death. Six pages - six deaths. Nothing more than compressed, laconic notes: “December 28, 1941. Zhenya died... Grandmother died on January 25, 1942, March 17, Leka died, Uncle Vasya died on April 13. May 10, Uncle Lesha, mother - May 15.” . And then - without date: “The Savichevs died. Everyone died. Tanya is the only one left." A twelve-year-old girl told people so sincerely and concisely about the war, which brought so much grief and suffering to her and her loved ones, that even today shocked people of different ages and nationalities stop before these lines, carefully written by a child’s hand, and peer at the simple and terrible words. The diary is today exhibited at the Museum of the History of Leningrad, and a copy of it is in the window of one of the pavilions of the Piskarevsky Memorial Cemetery. It was not possible to save Tanya either. Even after she was taken out of the besieged city, the girl, exhausted by hunger and suffering, was no longer able to get up.

Slides 18,19: Your heroic path of struggle against the Nazis Vitya Khomenko took place in the underground organization "Nikolaev Center". At school, Vitya’s German was “excellent,” and the underground workers instructed the pioneer to get a job in the officers’ mess. The officers began sending the fast, smart boy on errands, and soon he was made a messenger at headquarters. It could never have occurred to them that the most secret packages were the first to be read by the underground workers at the turnout. Vitya received the task of crossing the front line to establish contact with Moscow. On December 5, 1942, ten underground members were captured by the Nazis and executed. Among them are two boys - Shura Kober and Vitya Khomenko. They lived as heroes and died as heroes. The Order of the Patriotic War, 1st degree - posthumously - was awarded by the Motherland to its fearless son. The school where he studied is named after Vitya Khomenko.

Student:

He was in reconnaissance, they took him into battle
They went on missions with him,
Only the Nazis caught the hero,
And they took him for interrogation. A terrible pain went through his body,
What did you learn from us?
Again the Nazis tortured the hero,
But he didn’t say a word in response.
And they only learned from him
The Russian word “No”! The crack of a machine gun was heard dryly...
Presses with damp earth...
Our hero died as a soldier,
Loyal to my native country.

Slide 20. Arkady Kamanin I dreamed of heaven when I was just a boy. When did it start war, he went to work at an aircraft factory, then at an airfield and took advantage of every opportunity to take to the skies. Experienced pilots, even if only for a few minutes, sometimes trusted him to fly the plane. One day the cockpit glass was broken by an enemy bullet. The pilot was blinded. Losing consciousness, he managed to hand over control to Arkady, and the boy landed the plane at his airfield. After this, Arkady was allowed to seriously study flying, and soon he began to fly on his own. One day, from above, a young pilot saw our plane shot down by the Nazis. Under heavy mortar fire, Arkady landed, carried the pilot into his plane, took off and returned to his own. The Order of the Red Star shone on his chest. For participation in battles with the enemy, Arkady was awarded the second Order of the Red Star. By that time he had already become an experienced pilot, although he was fifteen years old. Arkady Kamanin fought with the Nazis until the victory. The young hero dreamed of the sky and conquered the sky!

Slide 21 Volodya Dubinin was one of the members of the partisan detachment that fought in the quarries of Old Karantina (Kamysh Burun) near Kerch. Pioneers Volodya Dubinin, as well as Vanya Gritsenko and Tolya Kovalev fought together with the adults in the detachment. They brought ammunition, water, food, and went on reconnaissance missions. The invaders fought with a detachment of quarries and walled up the exits from it. Since Volodya was the smallest, he managed to get to the surface through very narrow manholes undetected by enemies. After the liberation of Kerch, Volodya Dubinin volunteered to help sappers in clearing the approaches to the quarries. The mine explosion killed the sapper and Volodya Dubinin, who helped him. The young intelligence officer Volodya Dubinin was posthumously awarded the Order of the Red Banner.

Slide 22 : In 1942 Sasha Kovalev Graduated from the school of cabin boys of the Northern Fleet on the Solovetsky Islands. He dreamed of being a mechanic on a torpedo boat and achieved this. In April 1944, their boat sank an enemy transport and was attacked by German boats. The signalman was wounded in the battle. The commander ordered to replace him with a cabin boy. Standing higher on the stand, Sasha watched the battle and reported where the enemy shells were falling. For the courage and bravery shown in this battle, Sasha was awarded the Order of the Red Star. On a May night in 1944, the boat was returning to base after a heavy battle. Suddenly, fire fell on the sailors from three Foke-Wulfs. The sailors shot down one plane, but two made combat runs again and again. The boat was damaged. The collector received a hole. The engine will fail at any moment. Throwing a padded jacket over himself, Sasha covered the hole with himself, holding back the pressure until his fighting friends approached. Soviet fighters helped the sailors. And a day later, on May 9, Sasha Kovalev died. The gas tanks on the boat suddenly exploded. The flames engulfed the engine compartment, where midshipman D.D. Kapralov and Sasha Kovalev were located. All attempts to help them were unsuccessful. Both died. For heroism shown in battles, Sasha was posthumously awarded the Order of the Patriotic War, 1st degree.

Slide 23.24 : Back in 1943, one of the workers of the Perm plant wrote to her friends at the front: “Isn’t there anger and hatred in your heart when you see hundreds of children deprived of a happy childhood? At 6 o'clock in the morning they get out of bed, wrapped in a quilted jacket, and rush into the bitter cold, into a terrible snowstorm, into the rain to a distant factory to stand at the machine. Looking at them, it’s hard to say that they are 14-15 years old. They place two drawers in order to reach the handle of the machine. They get tired and very tired. But has anyone seen their tears?... This is not heroism, this is the everyday life of our rear.” The war was everywhere: both on the fiery front and in the deep rear. A lot can be said about the life of children in the rear during the Second World War.

Children did their best to help adults in all matters: they grew green onions for hospitals, participated in collecting things for the Red Army, collecting medicinal plants for hospitals and the front, and in agricultural work. Thousands of tons of ferrous and non-ferrous scrap metal were collected by pioneers and schoolchildren during the Patriotic War. One word “front” inspires the guys. In school workshops, with great love and care, they make various parts for mines and other weapons.

Teacher: At the call of schoolgirl Ada Zanegina, money was raised throughout the country for the construction of the Malyutka tank. She wrote to the newspaper editor.

An elementary school student takes the stage. She has a pencil and a piece of paper in her hands.

Pupil:“I, Ada Zanegina, I am 6 years old. I am writing in print. I want to go home. I know that we need to defeat Hitler, and then we will go home. I collected money for the doll, 122 rubles 25 kopecks, and now I’m giving it to the tank. Dear Uncle Editor! Write in your newspaper to all the children so that they also give their money to the tank. And let's call him “Baby”. Our tank will defeat Hitler and we will go home. My mother is a doctor, and my father is a tank driver.”

Teacher: This letter resonated with thousands of children. We managed to collect 179 thousand rubles. This is how the “Malyutka” tank was built, the driver of which was tanker-order bearer Ekaterina Petlyuk.

Here are just a few names:

• Borya Tsarikov , carrying out the task of the partisans, blew up a fascist train, destroying 70 tanks.
• Volodya Kaznacheev In the partisan detachment he became famous as the most dexterous and successful miner.
• Vasya Korobko Having joined the partisan detachment, he became a scout and demolitionist.
• Kostya Kravchuk . The retreating soldiers gave him the regimental banner for safekeeping. For more than two years, risking his life and the lives of his family, the boy took care of the banner behind enemy lines.
• Vanya Andriyanov . After the liberation of the village, he became a student of the 33rd separate engineering battalion, that is, “the son of the regiment.”
• Sasha Filinov . According to his information, several fascist headquarters were destroyed.
• Valya Lyalin - During the war he served as a cabin boy on a military boat.
• Valerik Volkov (slide 25)– he was 13 years old, but he had already experienced great grief: his mother died in 1938, and in 1941 the Nazis came to the village and shot his father for his connection with the partisans. The orphaned boy was picked up by Marine scouts. So Valerik became the son of the regiment.

This list can be continued for several pages. Very young heroes, many were awarded medals posthumously. They were awarded the highest award of the Motherland - the title of Hero of the Soviet Union.

Slide 26. Young heroes. Boys and girls who have become on par with adults. Songs have been written about them, books have been written, streets and ships are named after them... How old were they? Twelve - fourteen. Many of these guys never became adults, their lives were cut short at dawn... And let everyone ask themselves the question: “Could I have done this?” - and, having answered himself sincerely and honestly, he will think about how to live and study today in order to be worthy of the memory of his wonderful peers, the young citizens of our country. Died in World War II 13 million children. What is more valuable to us than our children? What does any nation have that is more valuable? Any mother? Any father? The best people on earth are children.

On the ninth day of jubilant May,
When silence fell on the ground,
The news rushed from edge to edge:
The world has won! The war is over!

The song “Victory Day” plays (click), the rest of the slides.

Teacher. This year our country will celebrate Victory Day in the same way as it did back in 1945. This holiday remains joyful and tragic. The people's pride in the Great Victory, the memory of the terrible price that our people paid for it, will never disappear from the people's memory. That war claimed more than 20 million lives. But these sacrifices were not in vain, the Nazis were defeated. On May 9, 1945, Berlin, the last stronghold of fascism, fell. The entire sky exploded with fireworks of the long-awaited victory. These are not all heroes. We don't even know anything about many of them. But those that are famous, you should know them by name: Marks Krotov, Albert Kupsha, Sanya Kolesnikov, Borya Kuleshin, Vitya Khomenko, Volodya Kaznacheev, Shura Kober, Valya Kotik, Volodya Dubinin, Valerik Volkov, Valya Zenkina, Zina Portnova, Marat Kazei , Lenya Golikov...

Student:

I recently watched an old war film
And I don't know who to ask
Why to our people and our country
I had to endure so much grief.
Children learned their childhood in the ruins of houses,
This memory will never be killed,
Quinoa is their food, and the dugout is their shelter,
And the dream is to live to see Victory.
I'm watching an old movie and I dream
So that there are no wars and deaths,
So that the mothers of the country do not have to bury
Your sons forever young.
Let the hearts, worried, freeze,
Let them call for peaceful affairs,
Heroes never die
Heroes live in our memory!

Last slide: eternal flame."Requiem" by Mozart (the melody plays when you click the picture with the mouse) Let us bow our heads to the memory of those who did not return, who remained on the battlefields, died of cold and hunger, and died from their wounds.

Teacher:

The stars are getting brighter, the sky is doves,
But for some reason my heart suddenly squeezes,
When we remember all the children,
Whom that war deprived of childhood.
They could not be protected from death
No strength, no love, no compassion.
They remained in the fiery distance,
So that we don’t forget them today.
And this memory grows in us,
And we can’t escape it anywhere.
What if war suddenly comes again,
Our executed childhood will return to us...
Once again a stingy tear guards the silence,
You dreamed about life when you went to war.
How many young people did not return back then,
Without living, without living, they lie under granite.
Looking into the eternal flame - the radiance of quiet sorrow -
Listen to the holy minute of silence.

A minute of silence.

CHILDREN AND WAR

And we didn’t contradict the memory,
And, remembering the distant days when
fell on our small shoulders
A huge childish problem.
The ground was both hard and snowy,
All people had the same fate,
We didn’t even have a separate childhood,
And we were together - childhood and war

1 PRESENTER: Thirteen million children died on Earth during World War II! What does any nation have more valuable than children? Any mother? Any father? The best people on earth are children. The war became the common biography of an entire generation of military children. Even if they were in the rear, they were still military children. Their stories are also the length of an entire war.

READER: Two sisters fled from the war -

Sveta is eight, Katya is only three...

Just a little more, and we’re saved,

Behind the hill are our own, which means freedom.

But a mine exploded, causing death

It’s smoky and disgusting behind those walking.

And one fragment flew

And he hit the youngest one under the shoulder blade.

As if he wanted to hide a criminal trail

Milligram of hot metal -

The padded jacket is intact, and there is no blood either,

Only the heart stopped beating.

The eldest said: “That’s enough, Katya,

After all, I have a hard time too.

Give me your pen, it's time to get up,

One more hour and everything will be all right.”

But, seeing Katya’s empty gaze,

Sveta froze for a moment,

And, throwing away the knapsack with the food,

She put her sister on her shoulder.

And where did the strength come from in her?

But she ran and ran...

Only when I saw my own

She staggered and fell into the snow.

A nurse approached the children,

Little Katya examined

And she said sadly: “Dead”...

“No, don’t,” the cry rang out, “

People, people, does this really happen?...

The older brother, Ivan, died in battle...

The Germans shot my mom and dad...

Why is there so much evil in the world?...

Is my sister’s life a toy?

The nurse took him by the shoulders

An eight-year old woman from the field.

Well, I picked Katya up in my arms

An elderly soldier from the third company.

“Granddaughter,” he just said, “

Why didn’t I save you?”...

Sunsets burn fires in the sky,

And the winds shed their sighs,

It's like two sisters are quietly crying -

Sparkles of a ruthless era.

1 PRESENTER: The entire Soviet people stood up to defend their Motherland. All adults, men and women, went to the front to fight, to defend their Motherland, their home, their children, fathers and mothers. Mostly old people and children remained at home.

1 PRESENTER: There is a saying: “There are no children outside.” Those who found themselves in the war had to part with childhood in the usual peaceful sense of the word.

Who will return childhood to a child who has gone through the horror of war? What does he remember? What can it tell? I must tell you! Because even now shells are exploding somewhere, bullets are whistling, houses are crumbling into crumbs and dust from the shells, and children’s cribs are burning. One might ask: what is heroic about going through a war at five, ten or twelve years old? What could children understand, see, remember?

Much! What do they remember about their mother? About your father? Only their death. Listen to the memories of children of war.

"About Father." The girl in black reads:

From a happy childhood I stepped into death... The war began. My father stayed in the occupied territory on instructions from the party, but he did not live at home. If we heard a knock on the door at night - not the careful one that we had agreed upon with my father, but another, my heart began to tremble: these were the fascists or the police, they would again ask about my father. I climbed into the darkest corner of our large stove, hugged my grandmother, and was afraid to fall asleep. One day my father came late at night. I was the first to hear him and called my grandmother. My father was cold, and I was burning with fever, I had typhoid fever. He was tired, old, but so at home, so dear. He sits next to me and cannot leave. A few hours after he arrived there was a knock on the door. My father didn’t even have time to put on the cover before the punitive forces broke into the house. They pushed him out onto the street. He extended his hands to me, but he was hit and pushed away. Barefoot, I ran after him all the way to the river and shouted: “Daddy, daddy!..” At home my grandmother was wailing. Grandmother could not survive such grief. She cried more and more quietly and two weeks later she died at night on the stove, and I slept next to her and hugged her dead. There is no one else left in the house."

1 PRESENTER: The children immediately grew up because they had to help adults in all matters. Boys and girls stood at the factory machines, making shells for the front, filled pawns with sand for air-raid shelters, helped in hospitals to care for the wounded, filled machine gun belts with cartridges, collected berries and mushrooms for the front, collected ammunition for the soldiers. By doing this, the children also brought our Victory closer.

1 PRESENTER: But the children not only helped the adults in the rear. The hour has come - they showed how huge a small child’s heart can become when a sacred love for the Motherland and hatred for its enemies flares up in it. Boys. Girls. Little heroes of the big war. They fought alongside their elders - fathers, brothers. They fought everywhere. And the young hearts did not waver for a moment! Their matured childhood was filled with such trials that, even if a very talented writer had invented them, it would have been difficult to believe. But it was. It was in the history of our great country, it was in the destinies of its little children - ordinary boys and girls.

READER: “To the Berezovsky district committee of the Komsomol of the Stalingrad region from a 6th grade student of the BSS Mezhevalov Gennady Vasilyevich.

Statement. I am 14 years old, but I really ask you to send me to defend our hometown of Stalingrad. And enlist me in intelligence. I pledge to beat the enemy to the last drop of blood. 10.XI.42.

G. Mezhevalov. Mother agrees."

Reader In the terrible year 41, enemies came to Tula land. Since October 30, the Germans ruled in Krapivna. Long, difficult days dragged on. Residents resisted the enemy: they destroyed and concealed food, disabled weapons and equipment. The partisans were fighting in the abattoir. The Germans hanged two of them, Semenov and Pereverzev, in the square in Krapivna.

For 45 days the enemy tried to capture Tula, but in vain. The Red Army launched an offensive. On December 18, turmoil began in Krapivna: the Germans were preparing to retreat. And it was bitterly cold outside. Cursing the Russian frosts, the Nazis took warm clothes from the residents, robbed everything, in a fever they threw junk onto sleighs and loaded bags of grain there. Retreating, they wanted to provide themselves with grain, but that was not the case. The invaders did not know that two bosom friends were spying on them through the cracks of the fence. They watched with burning eyes as the German guards scurried back and forth around the convoy. And when they went into the hut to warm up, the guys jumped out of the shelter in an instant, jumped over a low fence, crept up and ripped open the sacks of grain. Golden wheat flowed and poured in streams through the holey sleigh onto the snow. The Germans jumped out and shouted: “Halt! Halt! But the guys are gone! These were Yura Daev and Kolya Zalessky. They did not hide their joy and said: “It’s better to let the birds peck, it’s better to trample in the snow, but just don’t let the bastards get the bread!”

On the morning of the next day, December 19, the boys Yura and Kolya hid in the Daevs’ stone barn, and it stood high on the mountain, and from the barn they watched through binoculars as our cavalry moved beyond the river far in the forest, and how then the infantry descended into the lowlands to the river . And since the Germans blew up the “official” bridge across Plava, Yura informed ours with a signal from a flare gun that there was no crossing. Then the guys saw how furiously the German machine gun, placed on a hillock in the alley, fired, it did not allow the lying down Red Army soldiers to raise their heads. And so our young heroes took out rifles stolen from the Germans and hidden and made their way through the gardens behind the fences to the machine gun that was scribbling. The German officer, crouched next to the machine gun, had a face distorted with anger, and two soldiers only managed to hand him cartridge belts. Our brave men first threw a grenade. The explosion blew out the officer and damaged the machine gun. They shot two soldiers with rifles. Next to the killed officer lay a bag and a folded banner. The guys took them to give to ours. According to other sources, Yura and Kolya approached the enemy combat point and shot the fascist machine gunner at point-blank range with rifles, taking a bag with important documents (a map of military operations) and a German regimental banner - they actually handed all this over to the Soviet commander, who ran up to to the guys immediately after the machine gun went silent. The commander warmly thanked the guys for their heroic deed. Yura’s sister Daeva wrote about this in the newspaper. She also told how Yura the day before seized the moment and stole two rifles from the Germans, which were in large quantities in the closet .

“Hugging the young men, the commander said:

Well, guys, thanks. You saved me half a company. (And he has tears in his eyes). Thank you, we are moving further west.

“And we are with you!” the guys exclaimed.

No, my friends, let me grow up a little. You will have time to fight."

Indeed, we made it. They completed 10 classes at our Krapivenskaya school, then became cadets at the Tula Machine Gun School, from where junior commanders were sent to the front in August 1943. They ended up in the same unit, the same reconnaissance platoon. We lived in the same dugout, wrote letters home... Then a letter came from Yura, full of bitterness and indignation: “On October 12, at night, when we were on reconnaissance (there were 9 of us), we came across the Germans (there were 30 of them). We accepted the fight. In this unequal battle Nikolai Zalessky was killed. When I found Kolya, he was dead, a bullet hit him in the temple. I really feel sorry for Nicholas, I will now take revenge on the damned Germans for him and for everyone.” On March 13, Yura wrote that they were conducting offensive battles, and on March 16, 1944, Yu. Daev, who had just been awarded the medal “For Courage,” died in battle. And our glorious 19-year-old boys from Krapiven died in mass graves: Kolya - near Leningrad, and Yura - in the Kalinin region. Both of them were awarded the Order of the Patriotic War, 1st degree (posthumously) in 1965 for their feat in Krapivna.

1 PRESENTER: Listen to the memoirs of Marshal of the Soviet Union I. Bagramyan: “Thinking about what I experienced, about the harsh years of the Great Patriotic War, I often remember the boys. Hungry and frozen, they were brought to the headquarters dugouts. The commanders and soldiers fed them hot soup and spent hours patiently convincing them to return home. Most often the boys remained stubbornly silent. They were sent anyway, and after a week or two they reappeared in a neighboring unit. Many of them had nowhere to return - the war took away their home and relatives. And the stern commanders themselves, or at the insistence of experienced soldiers, surrendered, violating the instructions, the meager lines of which did not provide for soldierly tenderness. We loved these boys. Sometimes we thought that we would outwit them: we would dress them in a hastily altered soldier’s uniform and stroke their pride by playing war. But the boys often showed amazing cunning, and then, having gotten the hang of it, they were elusive messengers, excellent shooters, they boldly went on reconnaissance missions, and often completely unexpectedly found themselves in the thick of battle.”

Criss-cross blue stripes

On the windows of shrunken huts.

Native thin birch trees

They look anxiously at the sunset.

And the dog on the warm ashes,

Smeared in ash up to the eyes.

He's been looking for someone all day

And he doesn’t find it in the village...

Throwing on an old zip coat,

Through the gardens, without roads,

The boy is in a hurry, in a hurry

In the sun - directly east.

No one on a long journey

Didn't dress him warmer

Nobody hugged me at the door

And he didn’t look after him.

In an unheated, broken bathhouse

Passed the night like an animal,

How long has he been breathing

I couldn’t warm my cold hands!

Having seen everything, ready for anything,

Falling chest-deep into the snow,

He ran to his fair-haired

Ten year old man.

He knew that somewhere nearby,

Perhaps behind that mountain,

Him as a friend on a dark evening

The Russian sentry will call out.

But never on his cheek

A tear did not pave the way:

Must be too much at once

His eyes saw it.

During these months of suffering,

Which are equal to years...

But you, Nazi Germany,

You will answer us in full for everything!

Child killers and robbers,

You can't hide anything forever!

He will be the first accuser -

Ten year old man!

1 PRESENTER: Wartime children can still tell how they died of hunger and fear. How we missed it when the first of September of 1941 arrived and we didn’t have to go to school. Like when you were ten or twelve years old, as soon as you stood on a box, you could reach the machines and work twelve hours a day. How they received funerals for their dead fathers. How strangers adopted them. How even now the question about their mother hurts them. How, after seeing the first loaf of bread after the war, they didn’t know whether it was safe to eat, because in four years they had forgotten what white bread was. But they also remember the victory!

MEMORIES Didenko N.K. I belong to the generation of people who are called “children of war,” that is, those who, due to their young age, could not fight, but experienced very acutely the events that were associated with the war.

And, indeed, everything was determined by the war. The war took everything from me: childhood, joy and even food (we were always hungry, we were given 200 grams of bread per person on ration cards, there was nothing except bread and potatoes. My mother cooked three huge pots of potatoes and we ate everything. For me was a cherished dream: to drink real tea, whitened with milk, with bread sprinkled not with sugar, but with salt. Today, even the most strange thing is to remember this! The war took away my sister and brother, my father. When my father died, my brother was only two years old.

12 of my closest relatives were drafted into the active army and five did not return from the war, two of them, my cousins, were very young, they were barely 18 years old.

The war took away our peace, we were constantly frightened by the howl of enemy planes flying to bomb peaceful targets. The war took away my health. What kind of diseases did we have at that time? In addition to those that all children suffer from (measles, mumps, chickenpox, whooping cough), they suffered from pulmonary tuberculosis and Botkin's bologna. And if not for my mother’s heroic behavior, we would not have lived to see Victory Day. The opportunity to study normally was taken away: there were no notebooks, pencils, pens, or ink. They wrote on wallpaper and books, so there was no question of any good handwriting.

We grew up immediately; anxiety was constant, especially during the days of enemy occupation, which lasted 45 days. I remember very well the days of November-December 1941. Frequent bombings - two incendiary bombs hit our house, a wooden crib and even the hairs on the head of my two-year-old brother caught fire and his mother saved him. Everything burned down. I had to change my place of residence: move from my grandmother’s house to my father’s house, which had previously been occupied by his close relatives.

I remember how the residents of Krapivna were rounded up for the public execution of the partisan Semyonov. He was hanged on a tree growing near the “house with columns.” For several days the corpse was not removed from the gallows in order to frighten the residents of Krapiven. The Germans were also remembered. They moved and settled in three streams. During the first, a German officer settled in our house, he tried to gain our favor, showed photographs of children, admitted that he did not want to fight, and dreamed of returning to the university where he taught until 1939. Then the officer and orderly were replaced by a group of lice-infested fascists. I remember how, having lit the stove, they sat, naked to the waist, and beat lice. They were absolutely indifferent to us, they were very hungry, they scoured the yards, slaughtering any cattle that caught their eye.

Finally, the last batch of enemies unexpectedly left Krapivna. There was a battle going on, one of the Germans who burst into the house shouted loudly: “The Russians are in Umchino!” Everyone jumped up and, fearing being surrounded, hastily left our town. Several Germans were left to burn Krapivna, but Belov's cavalry soldiers confused their plans: Krapivna survived, only a few houses were burned and destroyed. There was no fierce battle, however, shells were flying overhead and machine gun fire was heard. I remember the state of helplessness when the air wave from the shell hit the ground, and it was impossible to get hit (you experience this state in a dream when someone is catching up with you, but your legs don’t obey).

BARBARISM

They drove the mothers with their children

And they forced me to dig a hole, but they themselves

They stood there, a bunch of savages,

Lined up at the edge of the abyss

Powerless women, skinny guys.

A drunken major came with copper eyes

He looked around the doomed... Muddy rain

Hummed through the foliage of neighboring groves

And on the fields, clothed in darkness,

And the clouds descended over the earth,

Chasing each other furiously...

No, I won't forget this day,

I will never forget, forever!

I saw rivers crying like children,

And Mother Earth wept in rage.

I saw with my own eyes,

Like the mournful sun, washed with tears,

Through the cloud it came out into the fields,

The children were kissed for the last time,

Last time...

The autumn forest rustled. It seemed that now

He went crazy. raged angrily

Its foliage. The darkness was thickening all around.

I heard: a powerful oak suddenly fell,

He fell, letting out a heavy sigh.

The children were suddenly seized with fear...

They huddled close to their mothers, clinging to their hems.

And there was a sharp sound of a shot,

Breaking the curse

What came out of the woman alone.

Child, sick little boy,

He hid his head in the folds of his dress

Not an old woman yet. She

I looked, full of horror.

How can she not lose her mind?

I understood everything, little one understood everything.

Hide me, mommy! Do not die!

He cries and, like a leaf, cannot stop trembling.

The child that is dearest to her,

Bending down, she lifted her mother with both hands,

She pressed it to her heart, directly against the muzzle...

I, mother, want to live. No need, mom!

Let me go, let me go! What are you waiting for?

And the child wants to escape from his arms,

And it pierces your heart like a knife.

Don't be afraid, my boy. Now you will sigh

at ease.

Close your eyes, but don't hide your head,

So that the executioner doesn't bury you alive.

Be patient, son, be patient. It won't hurt now.

And he closed his eyes. And the blood ran red,

A red ribbon snakes around the neck.

Two lives fall to the ground, merging,

Two lives and one love!

Thunder struck. The wind whistled through the clouds.

The earth began to cry in deaf anguish,

Oh, how many tears, hot and flammable!

My land, tell me, what's wrong with you?

You have often seen human grief,

You have bloomed for us for millions of years,

But have you experienced it at least once?

Such a shame and such barbarity?

My country, your enemies threaten you,

But raise the banner of great truth higher,

Wash its lands with bloody tears,

And let its rays pierce

Let them destroy mercilessly

Those barbarians, those savages,

That the blood of children is swallowed greedily,

The blood of our mothers..

1 PRESENTER: Bell ringing of Khatyn. Sad, anxious, inviting. It sounds over a silent valley, over forests and copses, and carries off into the endless blue of the sky. Here the scythe will not sing in the dewy grass in the morning, the well gate will not creak under the weight of a bucket of icy water, the gate will not knock, no one will come out to meet you...

On the sunny morning of March 22, 1943, a large detachment of fascist punitive forces surrounded the Belarusian village of Khatyn in a dense ring. All residents - men, women, old people, children - were kicked out of their houses. The Nazis raided every hut, every cellar to see if anyone was hiding there.

And then, at gunpoint, everyone was herded into a large barn. Horror-stricken people stood huddled closely together. What were the executioners up to? And suddenly a flame broke out - the Nazis set fire to the barn! “People rushed to the gate. They began to kick with their feet, they leaned on their shoulders, the gates cracked and swung open; a fresh wind blew into the barn, a leaden shower lashed... automatic fire from the punitive forces killed everyone who tried to escape from the fiery captivity. The flames burned stronger and stronger. Finally, the roof, engulfed in fire, collapsed. The bloody massacre was completed by looting houses and burning the entire village. Khatyn was wiped off the face of the earth. Old people, women, children of a forest village - 149 people were burned alive on March 22, 1943 by punitive forces. Seventy-five children of Khatyn suffered martyrdom in the fire...

1 PRESENTER: Children died in cities occupied by the Nazis and in besieged Leningrad. What did the children feel and experience? The records of an eleven-year-old Leningrad girl, Tanya Savicheva, will tell you about this.

Tanya Savicheva was born in 1930 and lived in an ordinary Leningrad family. The war began, then the blockade. Before the girl’s eyes, the following died: her sister, grandmother, two uncles, mother and brother. When the evacuation of children began, they managed to take the girl along the Road of Life to the mainland. Doctors fought for her life, but help came too late, and Tanya could not be saved. She died of exhaustion. Tanya Savicheva left us evidence of what the children had to endure during the siege. Her diary was one of the prosecution documents at the Nuremberg trials. Brief entries from Tanya's diary have a stronger impact on the soul than the description of all the horrors of the siege. Today, Tanya Savicheva’s Diary is exhibited at the Museum of the History of Leningrad (St. Petersburg), a copy of it is in the display case of the Piskarevsky cemetery memorial, where 570 thousand city residents who died during the 900-day fascist blockade are buried, and on Poklonnaya Hill in Moscow. The child's hand, losing strength from hunger, wrote unevenly and sparingly. The fragile soul, struck by unbearable suffering, was no longer capable of living emotions. Tanya simply recorded the real facts of her existence - the tragic “visits of death” to her home. And when you read this, you become numb...

Reader

In besieged Leningrad

This girl lived.

In a student notebook

For children of senior preschool age
9. for high school students
10.

"Children of war"

We didn’t even have a separate childhood
And childhood and war were together.

Leading:
Word to the teacher. The concept of “children of war” is quite broad. There are a lot of all the children of the war - millions of them, starting with those whose childhood was cut short on June 22, 1941 and ending with those who were born for the first time in May 1945. If we take into account dates of birth, we get a considerable historical period of 18-19 years. All those born during these years can rightfully be called children of war. Today we will meet your peers, only peers from the past.

Show a video or slide photographs about the war, accompanied by the words:
Children of war. On this sunny Sunday, June 22, 1944, people were doing normal things. No one suspected that pleasant chores, fun games and many things in life would be ruined by one terrible word: “war!” An entire generation born from 1928 to 1945 had their childhood stolen from them. Children were raised by war! The children were orphaned, their fathers died at the front, and their mothers died from starvation due to bombing. At best, an orphanage awaited them, ... at worst, a concentration camp. At best, an orphanage awaited them, ... at worst, a concentration camp. Tell your children. Tell your children's children about them so that they remember them too!

Leading.
We are children of war.
We got it from the cradle
Experience the chaos of adversity.
There was hunger. It was cold. I couldn't sleep at night.
The sky was blackened by the burning.
The earth shook from explosions and crying.
We didn't know children's fun.
And the chronicle of the terrible years was written into memory.
The pain found a response in Echo.

Leading.
But we did not contradict the memory.
Let's remember the distant days when
fell on our weak shoulders
A huge, non-childish problem.
The winter was both harsh and blizzardy,
All people had the same fate.
We didn’t even have a separate childhood,
And we were together - childhood and war.
And the big Motherland protected us,
And the Fatherland was our mother.
She shielded the children from death,
She saved her children for life.

Show a video or photograph of war children. Voice-over of a boy reading a poem about children of war against the background of war photographs:

Children of war, and the air is cold.
Children of war, and it smells of hunger.
Children of war, and their hair stands on end.
There are gray hairs on the children's bangs.
The earth is washed with children's tears.
Soviet and non-Soviet children.
What difference does it make where you were under the Germans?
In Dachau, Lidice or Auschwitz?
Their blood turns red on the parade ground like poppies.
The grass drooped where the children cried.
Children of war, pain and despair.
And how many minutes of silence do they need?

Leading:
One might ask: what is heroic about going through a war at five, ten or twelve years old? What could children understand, see, remember? Much! Listen to the memories of children of war:

Kuzmicheva Valentina Sergeevna: Mom worked and left me in the nursery around the clock. I remember the hunger strike, how I ate quinoa and rolls.

Ryabova Adelfina Petrovna. Planes bombed our town every day. We were hiding in a trench near the house that my father and a neighbor dug for our safety.

Babenko Pyotr Erofeevich. I remember how we, civilians, were first gathered in a collective farm yard, and then driven barefoot and ragged along a dusty road for tens of kilometers, how we were kept locked in stables and barns

Valeeva Lidiya Fedorovna. Long lines for bread, bombings, explosions. I was afraid to sleep at home.

Borisova Valentina Alekseevna. In the village, too, people lived hard: they were hungry, they ate chaff, nettles, and horse meat. There, in the village, I first saw new refugees, swollen from hunger.

Trushakova Margarita Arkadyevna. On this day, the Germans first took out the Jews with their belongings, and then 72 more people. All those taken out were shot at the ninth kilometer. A very difficult time: they collected potato peelings, fried them and ate them.

Melnikova Maria Ivanovna. The towers, the shepherd dogs, were forced to work. I remember the taste of rutabaga with earth and 200 gr. bread with bran.

Leading.
Like ghosts, pale,
We stood firm - we didn’t shout,
Children of that terrible war,
Children of anger and sorrow. V. Shamshurin

The war took a terrible toll on children’s destinies,
It was difficult for everyone, difficult for the country,
But childhood is seriously mutilated:
Children suffered greatly from the war.
Both courage and bravery were needed,
to live under enemy occupation,
Always suffer from hunger and fear,
Passed where the enemy's foot.
Childhood was not easy in the rear of the country,
There was not enough clothing and food,
Everyone everywhere suffered from the war,
The children have had enough grief and misfortune.

Leading.
War. There is nothing more terrible in the world,
“Everything for the front!” - the country's motto is:
Everyone worked: both adults and children
In the fields and at the open hearths, at the machine tools.
Machine tools “youngsters”, how fortresses were taken,
Standing on tiptoes at full height.
And they acquired adult skills.
The demand was the same for everyone.

Leading.
Wartime children can still tell how they died of hunger and fear. How we missed it when the first of September 1941 arrived and we didn’t have to go to school. Like at the age of 10-12, as soon as they stood on a box, they reached out to the machines and worked 12 hours a day. The children helped the front with everything they could. They came to depopulated factory workshops and empty collective farm fields, replacing adults. At the age of 11-15 they became machine operators, assemblers, produced ammunition, harvested crops, and were on duty in hospitals. They received their work books earlier than their passports. The war gave them away.

A dramatization of a fragment of military life (dialogue between boys returning home after a work shift):

— The shift is over. Now I'm going to collapse from fatigue. Bear, let's go and have some hot tea. Today we were released early, which means we’ll get more sleep. Yes, stay with me. Mom won’t come back from her factory shift until midnight, and the road to the factory is shorter from us.

- And you, Zhenya, are great. The first of the guys received a discharge. Became a real sewing machine mechanic.

- Okay, Mishka, don’t be jealous. And you will receive it. Imagine, tomorrow we will receive real military clothing, quilted jackets.

- That's great! We will immediately feel like real adults.

- Of course, I’ll run to the front too.

Leading:
Zhenya Lobanov kept his word. In 1944 he was drafted into the army, into the 33rd reserve rifle regiment. In the meantime, these guys had their own real labor front. According to 1944 data, among the working class of the Soviet Union there were 2.5 million people under the age of 18, including 700 thousand teenagers. It is known that 14-year-old Alexei Boychenko, who daily exceeded the established minimum workdays by 6-7 times, was awarded the title of Hero of Socialist Labor.

Leading.
A fairly widespread phenomenon in army life was the “adoption” of boys and girls by military hospitals. If the hospital was located in a combat area, then its specialization was the treatment of lightly wounded soldiers. In these military field hospitals, medical staff were exposed to almost the same risk as the soldiers on the front line. There was a chronic shortage of medical personnel: doctors and nurses often worked for days without rest; and the help of children's hands was in great demand here. The children were able to provide for the everyday life of the wounded soldiers: watch their beds, bandage them, spoon feed them, and even just read the latest newspapers and incoming letters. They coped well with this difficult job.

Leading.
Children of war, whose childhood destinies intersected directly with the war. Many of them were real heroes. There were also children among the defenders of the Motherland. Children who went to the front or fought in partisan detachments. Such teenage boys were called “sons of the regiments.” They fought on a par with adult warriors and even performed feats. Some, repeating Susanin’s feat, led detachments of enemies into impenetrable forests, swamps, and minefields. 56 people were named pioneers - heroes. Among them, four were posthumously awarded the highest title of Hero of the Soviet Union: Valya Kotik, Zina Portnova, Lenya Golikov, Marat Kazei. These names are well known to older people. The dead heroes, except Lenya Golikov, were only 13-14 years old. Tens of thousands of children were awarded orders and medals for various military services.

Leading.
They were driven by the Nazis along dusty roads.
And they were taken into slavery like cattle.
Some managed to escape from captivity.
And even several times.
Like mature warriors, the children fought.
Who among us joined the partisans?
And their faces burned with courage.
And their eyes glowed with fire.
Years added up on paper.
The children had no use for bullets.
Performing difficult tasks
They went on reconnaissance, eager to fight,
The battle was fought without expecting any rewards.
Every boy was a hero!

Showing a video or photographs of children - soldiers, children in partisan detachments, children in hospitals, children on the labor front.

Leading.
“...We saw the children. They looked like a flock of beaten birds. The outsized sleeves of striped, worn, dirty camp jackets hung from thin shoulders and looked like shot wings. There is fear in the eyes. No smiles, not even a calm look. Little old people." From the memoirs of a war veteran who participated in the liberation of Auschwitz prisoners. One of the worst crimes of the Nazis was the imprisonment and extermination of countless children in concentration camps in Germany and in occupied countries. It has been proven that in Auschwitz alone, about a million little prisoners died in gas chambers. Many children also died from starvation, torture, medical experiments and infectious diseases.

Show video. Fragment of the feature film “Shield and Sword”: Children in a concentration camp. Can be replaced with photographs of children in concentration camps.

Leading.
The war became the common biography of an entire generation of military children. Even if they were in the rear, they were still military children.

Leading.
Children can be proud that they defended Leningrad together with their fathers, mothers, and older brothers and sisters. When the blockade began, in addition to the adult population, 400 thousand children remained in Leningrad. Young Leningraders had to bear their share of the hardships and disasters of besieged Leningrad. The siege boys and girls were worthy helpers for adults. They cleared attics, extinguished fires and fires, cared for the wounded, grew vegetables and potatoes, and worked in factories. And they were equal in that duel of nobility, when the elders tried to quietly give their share to the younger ones, and the younger ones did the same in relation to the elders. Hundreds of young Leningraders were awarded orders, thousands - medals “For the Defense of Leningrad”.

Show video. The opening of a monument in 2010 to a girl who survived the siege at the Piskarevskoye cemetery. -Can be used to display a photo of this monument.

Leading.
This girl's name was Tanya Savicheva. She was a Leningrad schoolgirl, our same age. For 900 days and nights, the city on the Neva was cut off from the mainland - it was under blockade. A severe famine hit the residents. The only food item was bread. Black, half made from bran, sometimes even mixed with sawdust, but that wasn’t enough either. The daily norm in December 1941 was 250 grams for workers, and 125 grams for everyone else. That is, the child received this piece of bread (shows a piece of black bread weighing 125 grams) - this was the daily norm.

You can show a video about Tanya Savicheva or a photograph of her. Read the pages of the girl's diary.

Leading.
Leningrad children and adults died from bombing and shelling, from cold and hunger. Here are pages from the diary kept by Tanya Savicheva.

(Slides from the diary)

“Zhenya died on December 28 at 12.30 am. 1941." Zhenya is Tanya's sister. “Grandmother died on January 25 at 3 o’clock. 1942."
“Leka died on March 17 at 5 am. 1942." Leka is Tanya's brother.
“Uncle Vasya died on April 13 at 2 am. 1942."
“Uncle Lyosha, May 10 at 4 pm. 1942."
“Mom, May 13 at 7.30 am, 1942.”
"Everyone died"
“Only Tanya remains”
After the death of her relatives, Tanya ended up in an orphanage, from where she was taken to the mainland. They fought for Tanya's life for two years, but they could not save her.

Show video. Song by Ilya Reznik “Children of War”. The author sings accompanied by a children's choir against the background of slide photographs. Lyrics:

Children of war. Inflamed eyes look into the sky.
Children of war. The heart in a small mountain is bottomless.
Children of war. The heart is like desperate thunder.
Children of war. Leningradsky blows the metronome.
Children of war. The metronome rattles incessantly.
Children of the war were crowded into open heated vehicles.
Children of war buried their dead toys.
I will never be able to forget
Crumbs of bread on white snow.
Crumbs of bread on white snow.
A fiery whirlwind, a black raven
Trouble struck unexpectedly.
Scattered us in all directions.
When we were children, we were separated by war.

The cherished dream of each of us, of every child, is peace on earth. The people who won the Great Victory for us could not even imagine that in the 21st century we would lose children’s lives in terrorist acts. In Moscow, dozens of children were killed as a result of terrorists seizing the theater center on Dubrovka. In North Ossetia, in the small town of Beslan, on September 1, 2004, terrorists took hostage more than a thousand students, their parents and teachers from school No. 1. More than 150 children died and almost 200 were injured.

Tell me, people, who needs all this?
What do we have more valuable than our children?
What does any nation have that is more valuable?
Any mother? Any father?

Against the background of a sad musical melody, the presenters take turns taking the stage and saying the words:

I want that on our planet
-Children were never sad.
- So that no one cries, no one gets sick,
“If only our choir could ring.”
-So that everyone’s hearts become akin forever.
- Kindness, so that
-So that planet Earth forgets,
-What is enmity and war.

Teacher.
The best people on Earth are children. How can we preserve it in the troubled 21st century? How to save his soul and his life? And with it - both our past and our future? Thirteen million children died on Earth in World War II. !9 million Soviet children were orphaned during the years of this terrible war. And so that such a terrible tragedy does not happen again, humanity must not forget about these innocent victims. We must all remember that in the war waged by adults, children also die.

Screening of the video "People's Memory". Slide show of photographs of adults and children in Beslan. A minute of silence is announced.

Teacher.
Soon the great holiday of all our people will come - the anniversary of the Great Victory. Dear guys, I think that on this day you will try to congratulate and surround with attention and care not only the war and home front veterans living among us, but also people whose childhood was during the harsh years of the war. After all, today you learned what trials they had to go through in the name of this bright day - Victory Day!

Screening of the video “For Victory Day”. Veterans on holidays. You can use photos of war veterans. Children's poems are heard.

Leading.
Let there be peace
Let the machine guns not fire,
And the menacing guns are silent,
Let there be no smoke in the sky,
May the sky be blue
Let the bombers run over it
They don't fly to anyone
People and cities don’t die...
Peace is always needed on earth! (N. Naydenova)

Leading.
World
No, the word “peace” will hardly remain,
When there will be wars people will not know.
After all, what was previously called the world,
Everyone will just call it life.

And only children, experts on the past,
Having fun playing war,
Having run around, they will remember this word,
With whom they died in the old days. (V. Berestov)

Literary and musical composition dedicated to Victory Day

Children of war

Student: (2 slide)

Almost four years

A terrible war raged,

In the war against fascism, black power,

The country managed to survive.

Student:

And it's no secret that our generation

Doesn't know the terrible horrors of war,

But definitely on that topic today

We still have to apply.

Presenter 1: Two calendar pages.

Presenter 2: Two days in the life of planet Earth.

Presenter 1: Two days of human history.

Presenter 2: They are marked in the calendar with different colors.

Presenter 1: One is a black sheet with bristling bayonets and falling bombs.

Presenter 2: The other is a red leaf with iridescent rainbows of a victory salute and symbols of military valor and glory.

Presenter 3: Day May 9. Holiday of Victory of the Soviet people in the Great Patriotic War of 1941-1945.

Presenter 4: Day of Remembrance and Sorrow June 22 is a special date in our calendar. This is a day of remembrance for all those who died in the Great Patriotic War, our grief for its victims and gratitude for the salvation of the Fatherland, for life on earth.

Presenter 1: The blackest was that short summer night, when the silence of the morning on the western border of the Union was blown up by thousands of shells and bombs...

Reader 1: (4 slide)

The longest day of the year
With its cloudless weather,
He gave us a common misfortune
For everyone, for all four years.

Reader 2: June, sunset was approaching evening

And on a warm night the sea flooded

And the children's ringing laughter was heard

Those who do not know, those who do not know grief

June. We didn't know then

Walking from school evenings,

That tomorrow will be the first day of the war

And it will end only in 1945, in May.

Presenter 2: Back in 1941, many people gathered on the city streets because they could hear from all corners... (Levitan’s speech sounds) (5 slide)

(B. Okudzhava “Ah, war...” against the background of music, students read the 1st verse) (6 slide)

Students:

Oh, war, what have you done, vile one:
our yards have become quiet,
our boys raised their heads,
they have matured for the time being,
barely loomed on the threshold
and went after the soldier soldier...

Goodbye boys! boys,
try to go back.

(the music gets louder. Then it fades away.)

Presenter 3: Not only adults, but also children stood up to defend the Fatherland. 20 thousand pioneers received the medal “For the Defense of Moscow”, 15 thousand 249 young Leningraders were awarded the medal “For the Defense of Leningrad” (7 slide)

Presenter 4: The children immediately grew up because they had to help adults in all matters. What kind of things could children do? After all, they were still very small and did not know how to do much.

Presenter 1: The girls knitted warm clothes for the front: mittens, socks, helped the wounded in hospitals, wrote letters to soldiers at the front to support their morale, so that our defenders would not miss their loved ones. (9 slide)

Presenter 2:(10 slide) They stood at the machines instead of fathers and mothers. The machines were tall, designed for the height of an adult man, so the boys stood near the machines on stools and boxes to reach them. Listen to a short story about this boy. (11 slide)

Student:

Vovka - turner

“No, it won’t work, I’m weak, I can’t hold the workpiece,” - that’s what the best turner at the military plant, Vovka, said at first. Then nothing, I got used to it. First, a bayonet was attached to the rifle. Then we worked more and more seriously, and it worked!

What, you... Now it’s a treat to watch,

creation at Vova’s hands:

shells and housing for mines,

for machine guns barrels,

car parts,

boilers for camp kitchens.

Without sleep, in the bitter cold

(the workshop only had a roof, but no walls)

biting my lips until they bleed,

Vovka did not give in to fatigue.

I didn’t leave the machine for days.

The small, stubborn mouth repeated like a prayer...

The small stubborn mouth repeated:

“For grandma, for little brother; “What, the bastards took us? This is my front.”

Such are Vani and Sani,

Petit and Vovki

victory was forged in the rear:

grenades, cartridges, rifles.

Presenter 3: Detachments were created on collective farms to assist in field work. The children contributed the money they earned to the defense fund.

Presenter 4:(12 slide) In this photo we see the Soviet T-60 Malyutka tank. This tank has a very interesting history, listen.

Student 1:(Slide 13) The editor of the newspaper “Omskaya Pravda” received a letter:

And the editors were inundated with thousands of children's letters.

Student 2:“My dad sent me 136 rubles from the front for new boots, but I still look like I'm wearing old boots... Adik Solodov, 6 years old.”

Student 1: “Mom wanted to buy me a new coat and saved 150 rubles. I'm wearing an old coat. Tamara Loskutova.”

Student 2: “Dear unknown girl Ada! I’m only five years old, but I’ve already lived without my mother for a year. I really want to go home, and therefore I happily give money to build our tank. Our tank would sooner defeat the enemy. Tanya Chistyakova”…

Student 3:(14 slide) The tank was made, and Sergeant of the 56th Tank Brigade Ekaterina Petlyuk fought on it. She received gratitude for her first fight. She was soon awarded the Order of the Red Star, and later, for distinction in the battles near Orel, the Order of the Patriotic War.

“Please convey to the preschool children of the city of Omsk, who collected 160,886 rubles for the construction of the Malyutka tank, my warm greetings and gratitude to the Red Army.
Supreme Commander-in-Chief Marshal of the Soviet Union I. Stalin.” May 1943.

Presenter 1: And there are not thousands of such examples, but many more. And this happened because, among other things, the Great Patriotic War from its first hours was considered by our people, by all Soviet people, as the Holy People's Patriotic War.

Presenter 2: When the situation required active action from children, they participated in the construction of defensive lines, were liaison officers for partisan detachments, and scouts in military units. (15, 16 slide)

Presenter 3:(17 slide) Children fought the enemy along with adults. Moreover, they fought so bravely and courageously that the names of many are forever included in the lists of heroes of this terrible war. Volodya Kazmin, Lenya Golikov, Marat Kazei, Lara Mikheenko, Valya Kotik, Zina Portnova, Tanya Morozova, Vitya Korobkov. They all died so that you could live.

Rosenbaum “Or maybe there was no war?” Video sequence

Student: (18 slide)

Children of war - and it blows cold,
Children of war - and it smells of hunger,
Children of war - and their hair stands on end:
There are gray hairs on children's bangs
The earth is washed with children's tears,
Soviet and non-Soviet children.

Student:

What difference does it make where you were under the Germans?
In Dachau, Lidice or Auschwitz?
Their blood turns red on the parade ground like poppies
The grass drooped where the children cried
Children of war - the pain is desperate
And how many minutes of silence do they need!

MINUTE OF SILENCE

Presenter 4: (19 slide) Probably, the time will never come when it will be possible to say: “Enough, enough, everything has already been said about the Great Patriotic War.”

I think it will never be possible to say everything, because there is no measure for the tragedies of war, there is no measure for the heroism of people shown in battles, there is no measure for bitterness and suffering.

Presenter 1: All-Union Radio announcer Yuri Levitan recalled: “On May 9, 1945, I had the good fortune to read the Act of Unconditional Surrender of Germany. After reading, we saw lights flash in all the windows of the houses, crowds of people appeared on the streets... The message was repeated all night and all day. But I wanted to read it again and again, so that each time our Victory would sound more and more joyful!”

Song “Post-war time” (dramatized song) (20 slide)

MUSES by V. Ilyin words by Y. Rybchinsky
1. Ah... the post-war era...
The children stood with their mouths open.
And in front of the shocked children
The organ grinder turned and turned his box.
The barrel organ sounded, the barrel organ played,
The organ grinder whispered: “Begin!”
And his monkey did somersaults,
And “bravo” the parrot shouted.

Chorus:

And don't ever cry!
If the sun is shining in the sky,
So, grief is not a problem!

If the sun is shining in the sky,
So, grief is not a problem!
Louder! Laugh louder, kids!
And don't ever cry!

2. And the organ grinder said: “Parrot!”
Come on, my friend, tell your fortune for the children!”
And the parrot shouted "bravissimo"
And he handed it to each “fate”:
He gave tickets, colored tickets,
Colorful, like children's dreams.
And in each it was written that we will meet happiness
And there will be no more war!