All soldiers take photos, some of them are not pretty. If I said that only Germans enjoyed taking especially cruel and gruesome photos, I would not be very honest, having seen some of the images from the wars that followed, including Iraq. When I saw a link to an expired Ebay auction where these photos were sold for over a $1000, I just thought I’ll do my part of posting them for nothing. No matter how ugly, they have some historic value and for many people in them, these photos may have been their one chance to be seen by the future generations.
Caution: Some of the photos below are gruesome, it’s your choice to look at them.
I am not sure what to make of the fact that one year anniversary of this blog falls on the 90th anniversary of Komsomol – Communist Union of Youth which I joined at the ge 14 back in 1983. Komsomol was a third step in the Soviet brainwashing pyramid after the Little Octobrists and the Young Pioneers. Knowing that the big 90th anniversary is coming up I was trying to think what do I remember about being in Komsomol and couldn’t come up with anything. By 1983 joining all the communist organizations while still mandatory, became more or less a formality. People who refused to join were constantly harassed by Komsomol leaders appealing to their non-existent communist spirit; on the other hand, “troublemakers” and openly religious people weren’t easily accepted, which could have had a negative influence on their future lives and chances of getting into college.
In order to join one had to fill out an application and be recommended by two members of Komsomol and/or Communist Party and also by a local Young Pioneer Organization. To make it look even more serious the candidate had to study the Komsomol Bylaws and be able to answer specific questions. If I remember correctly “specific” questions were supplied to us ahead of time. An artist’s depiction of the ceremony in 1962 looked like this:
For your homework find a difference between the painting above and its previous version from 1949. Discuss amongst yourself.
In my case it didn’t look anything like that; several people got accepted at once after answering some questions with prepared answers. A member of Komsomol had a membership ID like this
and a pin like this
On the right side of the membership ID you see one of the pages where a payment of membership dues was marked with a special stamp. Komsomol was the first of the Communist Organizations that had actual dues. Since the Soviet kids didn’t work (unlike poor exploited children in the West) the monthly dues were two kopecks, pretty much a pocket change but multiplied by millions of members it added up to huge amounts of money.
I continued to pay membership dues throughout the technical school and in the army. It increased a little but was always a small amount.
One could stay in Komsomol until the age of 28. Some joined the communist party before that, some just let their membership run out. For my generation Komsomol slowly dissipated without a trace and no memories. When I was leaving the country in 1992 I didn’t even know where my ID was. Many Komsomol leaders used their positions, connections,probably some of the dues and other property to acquire huge amounts of wealth and become oligarchs. The rest of us just moved on…
Just like many other attributes of the USSR Komsomol is now fondly remembered by some. Big celebrations were held this week to commemorate the 90th anniversary. Years are like beer-goggles of history, they make even the ugly past look better.
I’d like to start this part by busting the first and the most in need to be debunked myth about Argentina – the myth that states that people there speak English. In fact, hardly anyone or almost no one (whichever you prefer) in Argentina speaks English. I am sure that plenty of fine polyglots are roaming the streets of Buenos Aires, eager to strike a conversation with you in your favorite language, but for some reason they don’t make themselves obvious. Barring an accidental run-in with one of the elusive English speakers, you’ll need to learn Spanish or spend your vacation as a deaf-mute, using an elaborate sign language you just invented and a series of grunts and noises to explain what you want ( I went as far as handing a pen and a piece of paper to an orange juice vendor so he could scribble the price on it). It is also highly unlikely that you will understand anything being said to you. Cab drivers, restaurant employees, shopkeepers, people on the street, criminals – everyone you will need to communicate with – will stare at you trying but unable to understand your words and gestures. Even if you honed your Spanish talking to the janitor at work and ordering your favorite tacos at an authentic Mexican joint, chances are you will have a problem with the version of Spanish spoken in Buenos Aires; it’s a crazy mix of a dialect no longer used in Spain with Italian and every other language willing to contribute. To be fair, hotel employees, travel industry workers and personnel at the tourist-oriented venues will have some degree of English, but outside of these places you are on your own. I highly suggest ignoring what the guide books have to say on the subject and learning at least a bit of Spanish.
It’s hard to put a finger on what’s so different about Buenos Aires; even after almost two weeks there, I couldn’t stop taking pictures of the streets, buildings and everything around me.
It’s a city with the crazy mix of architecture, where it’s not unusual to see four or five styles of buildings on the same block;
A recent article on a forum based in the Russian city of Yaroslavl attracted my attention. It talks about a time capsule that was sealed in 1960 to be opened 50 years later during the 1,000th birthday of the city.
August 21,1960. Time Capsule Dedication Ceremony at the StadiumContinue reading →
By the time I was growing up, the International Day of Worker Solidarity celebrated on the 1st of May became just another day in a long weekend of partying, spring outings, camping trips and fun. May Day usually started with the demonstration, the biggest one of course in Moscow, attended by the Politburo of the CPSU with the General Secretary himself, broadcast for hours on all three TV channels. Each self-respecting city had a smaller version with the local Party bosses in charge. During my years in technical school I’ve participated in one or two demonstrations. We were issued some uniforms and signs and walked with the crowds through the central streets of my city. Although the event was mandatory, we were happy to oblige, sixteen-year-olds don’t need much to entertain themselves in a crowd. So the smiles you see in the clip below are genuine, however, I highly doubt they have much to do with the world proletariat and their solidarity. “Workers of the world, unite!”
Happy May Day!
The text on the poster is “May 1st 1920″ and on the bottom ” Through the debris of capitalism to the world brotherhood of workers”.
Now take a short trip thirty-some years and several thousand miles away.
By the time I was growing up, the International Day of Worker Solidarity celebrated on the 1st of May became just another day in a long weekend of partying, spring outings, camping trips and fun. May Day usually started with the demonstration, the biggest one of course in Moscow, attended by the Politburo of the CPSU with the General Secretary himself, broadcast for hours on all three TV channels. Each self-respecting city had a smaller version with the local Party bosses in charge. During my years in technical school I’ve participated in one or two demonstrations. We were issued some uniforms and signs and walked with the crowds through the central streets of my city. Although the event was mandatory, we were happy to oblige, sixteen-year-olds don’t need much to entertain themselves in a crowd. So the smiles you see in the clip below are genuine, however, I highly doubt they have much to do with the world proletariat and their solidarity. “Workers of the world, unite!”
