He ordered it to be destroyed. Summary of a thematic lesson dedicated to Victory Day “So that there is no war”

True story for children

S. Mikhalkov

Summer nsight, at dawn,
Hitler gave the troops an order
And he sent German soldiers
Against all Soviet people -
This means - against us.

He wanted free people
Turn the hungry into slaves
To be deprived of everything forever.
And the stubborn and rebels,
Those who did not fall to their knees,
Exterminate every single one!

He ordered them to destroy
Trampled and burned
Everything that we kept together
They took better care of their eyes,

So that we endure need,
They didn’t dare sing our songs
Near his house.

To have everything for the Germans
For foreign fascists.
And for the Russians and for others,
For peasants and workers - Nothing!

No! - we told the fascists.
- Our people will not tolerate
So that Russian bread is fragrant
Called by the word “brot”...

And from sea to sea
The Bolsheviks rose up
And from sea to sea
The Russian regiments stood up.

We stood up, united with the Russians,
Belarusians, Latvians,
People of free Ukraine,
Both Armenians and Georgians,
Moldovans, Chuvashs -

All Soviet peoples
Against a common enemy
Everyone who loves freedom
And Russia is expensive!

Victory Day

(Belozerov T.)

May holiday -
Victory Day
The whole country celebrates.
Our grandfathers put on
Military orders.

The road calls them in the morning
To the ceremonial parade.
And thoughtfully from the threshold
The grandmothers look after them.

What kind of holiday?

(N. Ivanova)
There are festive fireworks in the sky,
Fireworks here and there.
The whole country congratulates
Glorious veterans.
And the blooming spring
Gives them tulips
Gives white lilac.
What a glorious day in May?

Victory

Frontline songs,
Military awards,
Red tulips,
Veterans' meetings
And fireworks in half the sky,
Huge as Victory.

What is Victory Day

What is Victory Day?
This is the morning parade:
Tanks and missiles are coming,
A line of soldiers is marching.

What is Victory Day?
This is a festive fireworks display:
Fireworks fly into the sky
Scattering here and there.

What is Victory Day?
These are songs at the table,
These are speeches and conversations,
This is my grandfather's album.

These are fruits and sweets,
These are the smells of spring...
What is Victory Day -
This means no war.

Day of Remembrance

Day of Remembrance -
Victory holiday,
Carrying wreaths
Living ligature,
Warmth of bouquets
Different colors,
So as not to get lost
Connection with the past.
And the mournful slabs are warmed
Flowers with the breath of the field.
Take it, fighter,
It's all like a gift
After all, this is necessary
Us,
Alive.

Old photo

(S. Pivovarov)
Photograph on the wall -
There are memories of the war in the house.
Dimkin's grandfather
On this photo:
With a machine gun near the pillbox,
Hand bandaged
Smiles slightly...

Here for just ten years
Older than Dimka
Dimkin's grandfather.

On the radio

Letter I tried
Write without blots:
"Please do
A gift for grandfather..."

Been on the road for a long time
Musical hello.
But here he comes
And my grandfather hugged me -
Came to see him on holiday
9th May
His favorite song
Frontline.

At the obelisk

The spruce froze on guard,
The blue of the peaceful sky is clear.
Years go by. In an alarming hum
The war is far away.

But here, at the edges of the obelisk,
Bowing my head in silence,
We hear the roar of tanks close
And a soul-tearing explosion of bombs.

We see them - Russian soldiers,
That in that distant terrible hour
They paid with their lives
For bright happiness for us...

Veteran's Tale

Guys, I'm at war
I went into battle and was on fire.
Morz in the trenches near Moscow,
But, as you can see, he is alive.
Guys, I had no right
I'll freeze in the snow
Drowning at the crossings
Give your home to the enemy.
I should have come to my mother,
Grow bread, mow grass.
On Victory Day with you
See the blue sky.
Remember everyone who is in a bitter hour
He himself died, but saved the earth...
I'm giving a speech today
Here's what it's about, guys:
We must protect our homeland
Holy as a soldier!

No one is forgotten

(A. Shamarin)

“No one is forgotten and nothing is forgotten” -
Burning inscription on a block of granite.

The wind plays with faded leaves
And the wreaths are covered with cold snow.

But, like fire, at the foot there is a carnation.
No one is forgotten and nothing is forgotten.

Grandpa's friends

May... The birds are chirping with might and main,
And the parade is going on in the capital.
Grandfathers wear orders.
Happy Victory Day!

Friends come to grandpa
They come on Victory Day.
I like to listen for a long time
Their songs and conversations.

Burning gold in the sun
Military awards,
And they enter the house
To our peaceful home,
Front roads.

I sit silently next to you,
But sometimes it seems
Why am I looking through the sights?
That I'm preparing for a fight.

Friends come to grandpa
Celebrate the Victory.
There are fewer and fewer of them
But I believe:
They will come again.

Grandfather's portrait

(V. Turov)
Grandmother put on the medals
And now she’s so beautiful!
She celebrates Victory Day
Remembering the great war.
Grandma's face is sad.
There is a soldier's triangle on the table.
Grandfather's letter from the front
Even now it is very painful for her to read.
We look at grandfather's portrait
And we shake hands with my brother:
- Well, what kind of grandfather is this?
He's still just a boy!

Introduction to fiction

E. Blagina “The Overcoat”;

Why are you saving your overcoat? -
I asked my dad. -
Why don't you tear it up and burn it? -
I asked my dad.
After all, she is both dirty and old,
Take a closer look,
There's a hole in the back,
Take a closer look!
That's why I take care of her, -
Dad answers me, -
That’s why I won’t tear it up, I won’t burn it, -
Dad answers me. -
That's why she's dear to me
What's in this overcoat
We went, my friend, against the enemy
And they defeated him!
Reading chapters from S. Baruzdin’s book “A Soldier Walked Down the Street”;

This is a story about a soldier. About an extraordinary soldier. About a man with a weapon in his hands and a red star on his hat.
Once upon a time they called him a Red Guard. Then a Red Army soldier. And now they call him a soldier of the Soviet Army.
This is a story about a hero. About an extraordinary hero. About a man who went through a thousand difficult battles and emerged victorious. About a man who died a hundred times and did not die. About a man who defended and is now defending our country from enemies.
This is a story about your grandfathers and fathers. They were hero soldiers.
How old are you now? Five, seven, maybe even nine? This is, of course, a lot.But our country still has more. And our army is larger.
This means that this story must begin from those times when you were not yet in the world...

BIRTHDAY OF THE RED SOLDIER

A soldier was walking down the street. He doesn't look like a soldier at all. He was not wearing an overcoat, nor a hat with a red star. A work jacket, boots and a cap. Just a worker. But behind his back he has a rifle with a bayonet. And next to him are the same workers with weapons and sailors from the cruiser Aurora.
A soldier walked along the streets of Petrograd, along the Neva embankment. He walked to the royal Winter Palace. There are white ones. Enemies. There are enemies ahead. There are enemies on the next street, there are enemies around the corner of every house. There are enemies on the Winter Canal embankment. The palace is getting closer and closer.
A detachment of workers and sailors approached the Winter Palace. And not only this squad. The palace was surrounded on all sides by red revolutionary workers, soldiers, and sailors.
But then a shot sounded. One, two, three. These are the guns of the revolutionary cruiser Aurora.
- Forward! - the soldier shouted.
People rushed to storm the Winter Palace. A heavy battle raged until late at night.
And here is victory! The Winter Palace has been taken!
And at dawn the next day, the soldier was already standing at the door of Smolny - the headquarters of the revolution.
Vladimir Ilyich Lenin spoke at Smolny.
Bonfires were burning in the courtyard of Smolny. It was a cold October morning. Detachments of revolutionary fighters went into battle against the undead enemy.
- Uncle, who are you - white or red?
Two boys appeared in front of the soldier, both small, wearing identical caps and dressed haphazardly.
The soldier was offended.
- Why is it white? I am a Red Guard.
- How will you see? - said one boy.
- And you don’t have a uniform, uncle. And there is nothing red! - said another. - How to find out?
- There will be a uniform! And even with a red star! And the gun will be better! - the soldier promised.
Suddenly both boys asked:
- We should sign up for the Red Guard, huh? Uncle, sign us up!
- Oh, what did you want! - said the soldier. Then he walked away a little, softened - he remembered: soon he will have a son like him. - Still small! When you grow up, we'll write it down!

HOME

A soldier was walking down the street. He was returning home from a long civil war. The soldier's overcoat is worn, pierced by bullets and shrapnel. On the head is a budenovka with a large red star. Budenovka was also pierced by a bullet - a memory of being wounded at the front.
A soldier was walking along a snowy winter street. And the street is broken. The pillars are overturned. The wires are broken. Trams are upside down. The rails are crumpled. The windows in the houses are covered with plywood and boards. Cold. Hunger.
Life was difficult for people. But the red soldier also had a hard time during these years. The enemies wanted to destroy Soviet power. The soldier had to fight with them.
A red soldier fought near Pskov and Narva. He fought in the North and South. On the Volga and the Urals. In the Far East and in the sands of Central Asia. The whites pressed everywhere, and the red soldiers fought them off everywhere. And he won!
That’s why I smiled now, when I was coming back from the war. And also because I was walking home. My wife and son are at home. When I left for civilian service, my son was one year old. And now...
The soldier came home, but the son did not recognize his father. Still would! The soldier hasn't been home for four years! Four years old, and my son is five!
- Who are you? - asked the soldier’s son.
- I'm yours, daddy! Father! - said the soldier.
- No, who are you?
“Red Army soldier,” answered the soldier.
- How did you fight?
- Well, son, how did you fight? He also fired at enemies with a rifle and a machine gun. He was a horseman and rode an armored train. He went into battle with sailors and with partisans. And once... Once we captured an English tank in battle. So I rode in that tank and fought against the whites...
-Have you seen Budyonny? - asked the son.
“I saw it,” answered the soldier. - I fought with him. And also together with Chapaev, Frunze, Blucher...
- And with Chapaev?
- And with Chapaev.
It seems that the son has now admitted his father:
- Are you happy, dad! - And then he asked: - What will you do tomorrow?
“Tomorrow, son, I’ll go to work,” said the soldier. - We have a lot to do! Everything that was destroyed by the enemy must be restored. We need to build something new! And a new life!

THE BORDER IS NEAR!

A soldier was walking down the street. Along the sandy street of a border military town. On the soldier's chest is a badge - "Voroshilov shooter". There are two cubes in the buttonholes.
The soldier was not walking alone. I walked with my son. The big son is a pioneer, thirteen years old. Came to visit my father on vacation.
A detachment of horsemen galloped past. A squad of border guards passed; in front is a huge gray shepherd.
“Our Rex,” said the soldier. - Well done! Twenty border violators on his account!
- We also raise service dogs for border guards! - the son boasted.
- There will be something for your pupils too.
And apple and cherry trees bloomed around. Bees and butterflies circled over the flowers. And the birds sang loudly in the gardens.
“Okay,” said the son.
“The border is nearby,” said the soldier.
On the football field, border guards, free from their uniform, were kicking a ball. We practiced on rings and on the horizontal bar.
A magpie flew out of the forest, darted away from the football players and suddenly calmly, as if nothing had happened, sat down by the well.
The magpie wanted to drink. She lowered her beak into the puddle and drank. She lowered it again and drank some more. Then she flapped her wings and flew back into the forest. And there, in the forest, there were tanks and armored vehicles. The artillerymen were stationed at the edge of the forest. But the magpie was not afraid of them. Apparently, I'm used to it.
There are reeds in the distance, and behind them a river. Not wide, calm, the water glistens in the sun. The border runs along the river. This shore is ours, but the other is not ours, someone else’s.
“Quiet,” said the son.
“The border is near,” the father repeated again.
They said goodbye:
- Well, it’s time for me to go to the outpost! Until the evening!
- Until the evening!
The soldier left for the outpost. The outpost is nearby. Near the border.
On the river bank, border guards froze in the bushes. The soldier froze. He looks through binoculars at the reeds, at the nearby foreign shore.
The border is near!

TWO MEDALS

A soldier was walking down the street. The uniform on him is fine, and he himself is fine. No matter what - a hero! What boy would miss an opportunity without looking at such a soldier! And with medals too! And with two more! At that time, you didn’t often meet a person with awards!
- What is this one for? - looking ahead, one boy asked.
“Not this one, but “For courage,” the second one interrupted him. - Do not you know!
The third was silent, but still tried to run closer to the soldier.
“This one,” the soldier explained, “is for the battles on Lake Khasan.” Have you heard of these?
- You wouldn’t have heard of it! - the guys shouted.
In those years, all the boys raved about Hassan.
“So, for this,” the soldier continued. - The Japanese attacked us there. And to our Mongolian friends. Well, we, of course, brought the Japanese to their senses. They beat me, basically.
- And this? - the boys did not let up. - “For military merits”?
“For military merit,” confirmed the soldier. - This is for the battles on the Karelian Isthmus. We defended the glorious city of Leningrad.
- Great! - the guys said.
- Isn’t this great? - asked the soldier and pointed to the pavement with his eyes.
Just at this time a military unit was passing along the street. The same good soldiers walked along the pavement, measuring their steps. On their heads are helmets with red stars. The tunics are tied with belts. Behind the rifle. The boots are shiny.
- Really great! - the boys agreed.

FOR THE HOMELAND!

A soldier was walking down the street. It was a sunny June day. A restless, anxious day.
A war began like never before. War with the Nazis.
A soldier walked through his native land. Behind him was a country - the most huge and great. The people were with him - the strongest. This means that the Nazi soldier will win. He, the Soviet soldier, will win!
He will win! But this path is difficult and long. Near Brest and near Moscow, soldiers will destroy fascist troops. In Stalingrad and the Caucasus, near Leningrad and Odessa, near Sevastopol and Kiev...
- For the Motherland! - the soldier shouts and goes into battle.
Infantry goes into battle - riflemen, machine gunners, machine gunners, snipers...
- For the Motherland!
The artillerymen are going into battle. They hit the enemy with mortars and light guns, with heavy howitzers and Katyushas.
- For the Motherland!
Tank engines roar. Tankers go into battle against the enemy.
- For the Motherland!
Ships go into battle along the rivers and seas: battleships, cruisers, destroyers, submarines, torpedo boats and even simple civilian ships - and military sailors go against the enemy on them.
- For the Motherland!
Airplanes take off into the sky - fighters, bombers, reconnaissance aircraft.
And even where the Nazis entered our land, the cry is heard:
- For the Motherland!
These are forest soldiers - partisans - going to fight the enemy.
A soldier goes into battle for his homeland. Maybe this is the soldier that Zimny ​​took, defended his country during the civil war, defended his native land on Khasan... Maybe not the same one. Or his son, who also became a soldier.
And grandfathers, and fathers, and mothers, and sons, and grandsons were now going into battle.
- For the Motherland!

GLORY

A soldier was walking down the street. Tired and satisfied. How many years has the soldier lived in the world, how many battles has he gone through, and there has never been such a day in his life to celebrate the May Day holiday in Berlin. And here is the First of May in Berlin! The fascist soldiers defeated. The winner came to Berlin!
A soldier was walking through the streets of Berlin.
- Glory to the Soviet soldier! - said the residents of Berlin.
And when the soldier left the distant city for home, they erected a monument to him. With a girl on his shoulder, with a sword in his hand. So that people always remember who saved the earth from the Nazis.
Where else are there such monuments to our soldier! In Germany and Poland, in Romania and Hungary, in Bulgaria and Czechoslovakia... Everywhere where we visited, our soldier fought and won.
A soldier was walking down the street. The soldier returned to his homeland. Returned home. A soldier was walking along a Moscow street towards Red Square. At the Lenin Mausoleum, he threw fascist banners taken in battle onto the paving stones.
- Glory to you, dear! - said the Muscovites.
And they began to rock the soldier:
- Glory! Glory! Glory!

EXACTLY ON GOAL!

A soldier was walking down the street. A very young soldier, and on his chest he has a military order.
Where did the order come from when the soldier was not in the war? And he couldn’t have been at war. The war was already over, and the soldier had not yet been born.
And now, in peacetime, a young soldier received a military order. For what?
And it was like that.
An airplane was flying high in the sky. So high that you can’t see or hear from the ground. The plane is not ours - it’s someone else’s, from a distant country. The pilot was ordered to fly unnoticed over the Soviet Union and declassify our military secrets. Where is which plant we have - take a photo! Where are which military units are located - take a photo! Where and what military airfields are there - take a picture!
The alien plane was not visible from the ground, but only our anti-aircraft gunners discovered it using instruments. Where it flies, at what altitude, even the make of the plane was determined exactly.
- In places! - came the command.
The rocket men took their places. They aimed a missile at an invisible target.
Reported:
- Ready!
Another team. Explosion! The rocket went high into the sky, leaving a tail of smoke behind it. A minute, then another, and the rocket had already found its target. The plane caught fire. And the pilot jumped out by parachute and for a long time later wondered how he was discovered at such a height and shot down.
And our anti-aircraft gunners, rocket men, were given orders for an accurate hit. And the youngest soldier too.
That's why a soldier with a military order was walking down the street.

SCARY TREASURE

A soldier was walking down the street. On the street big city. The city was being built. Dozens of new houses have already been occupied and lived in. Guys played near them, shops were open, schools were open. And there was new construction going on nearby. Bulldozers and excavators were making noise: they were preparing sites for new houses.
During the war, the Nazis destroyed the entire city. And now the city has grown - new, bright, young, better than before. The soldier rejoiced: a good city!
- Hey, brother! - someone called out to the soldier.
The soldier looked around: the excavator operator, the young guy who was digging a trench for the water supply, was calling.
A soldier ran up.
- Look! - said the excavator operator.
The soldier looked into the trench, and there, slightly covered with earth, lay rusted and moldy mines and shells. Lots of mines and shells!
During the war, the Nazis, retreating from the city, left a terrible treasure underground - thousands of mines and shells. They will explode, and new houses, schools, kindergartens will fly into the air. People will die. Scary!
- Don't be afraid! - the soldier said to the excavator operator. - Wait, I’ll call my comrades now. There shouldn't be any trouble!
He called his fellow miners.
To prevent trouble from happening, all residents were moved to a safe place. And when there was no one left around, the soldiers began to carefully remove mines and shells from the ground in their hands and carry them far from the city into an open field. One mine was exploded there. And another. A shell and a hundred more similar shells. And again into the trench, and again carefully with a shell in his hands to a distant field. Two hundred and tenth shell. One hundred and first mine. One thousand and two shells. Two thousand seventh mine.
One after another, the soldiers exploded shells. The mines exploded one after another. Finally everything was blown up. The trouble is over!
A few days later, residents returned to their apartments. Schools have opened. The stores are open. The children began to play again near the new houses - sculpting Easter cakes from sand and chasing tags.
- You can live in peace! - said the soldier. - Now nothing threatens you. The fascist treasure has been destroyed!

IN THE COUNTRY OF FRIENDS

A soldier was walking down the street. Along an unfamiliar street in an unfamiliar city. There are mountains near the city. A disaster has come here, to a neighboring country - an earthquake. An earthquake destroyed an entire city. People died under the ruins of houses. Many could not be found. And those who survived need new homes. Friends called our soldier.
A Soviet soldier came to the aid of the city residents. He helped clear the ruins. Save the injured people. Build new housing, roads, bridges. But you never know what the soldier had to do!
A soldier was walking down the street. Along the street of the country of friends. He always rushes to help his friends. When needed. If trouble comes.
This always happens.

THERE IS NO STRONGER POWER!

A soldier was walking down the street. An ordinary soldier. An extraordinary soldier.
Ordinary, because he is the same as all his fellow soldiers. The tunic is green and khaki. Cap with a red star. Boots polished to a shine. And also the badge of an excellent warrior. And he is extraordinary because he is a soldier of the Soviet Army.
A soldier has a lot of strength.
There are rocket launchers somewhere in the forests. There are different missiles - small, medium and large.
Such rockets launched the ships of our cosmonauts.
And if necessary, they will strike the enemy - missiles will hit the target many thousands of kilometers away.
Airfields are hidden somewhere. Helicopters are on them.
Heavy helicopters that can take off with people, guns and even tanks. And airplanes.
Heavy and fast planes with powerful weapons on board.
Somewhere there are invulnerable tanks and self-propelled guns, armored cars and mortar launchers. Give the order and they will go into action!
Somewhere in the seas and oceans there are fast ships and elusive nuclear submarines in roadsteads, which, if necessary, will quietly sail to the ends of the earth - wherever the enemy appears.
A soldier has a lot of strength.
And there is one more - the most important force. This force is our people, our Soviet country.
- There is no stronger force! - says the soldier about our army.
- There is no force stronger than our strength! - people say about the soldier.
And the enemies know about it.
They know and do not dare to attack the Land of the Soviets - our country.

WHEN A FEW YEARS HAVE PASSED

A soldier was walking down the street. A familiar soldier. Where did we see him? It seems he looks like the soldier who took the Winter Palace in 1917. And the fact that he came with victory after the civil war in the year twenty-two. And to the soldier who defended our borders in 1930. And also for the soldier who defended our Motherland on Khasan in '37 and on the Karelian Isthmus in '39 and '40. And, of course, he looks like a heroic soldier of the Great Patriotic War. And he also looks like young rocket soldiers, soldier defenders, soldiers who come to the aid of their friends.
Yes, he looks like your grandfathers, fathers, older brothers. But still...
A soldier was walking down the street. It's you.
A few years will pass. For some ten, for others twelve, for others a little more, and you will become a soldier. Not to attack other countries, but to defend your country.
You will become a soldier of the Soviet Army. You will become a soldier of the Soviet country! You will become a soldier of our great Soviet people!

N. Dilaktorskaya “Why was mom nicknamed Grishka”;

A. Mityaev “Dugout”;

All night the artillery battalion raced along the highway towards the front. It was freezing. The moon illuminated the sparse forests and fields along the edges of the road. Snow dust swirled behind the cars, settled on the rear sides, and covered the cannon covers with growths. The soldiers, dozing in the back under a tarpaulin, hid their faces in the prickly collars of their greatcoats and pressed themselves closer to each other.

Soldier Mitya Kornev was riding in one car. He was eighteen years old and had not yet seen the front. This is not an easy task: during the day, to be in a warm city barracks far from the war, and at night to be at the front among the frosty snow.

The night turned out to be quiet: the guns did not fire, the shells did not explode, and the rockets did not burn in the sky.

Therefore, Mitya did not think about battles. And he thought about how people can spend the whole winter in fields and forests, where there is not even a poor hut to warm up and spend the night! This worried him. It seemed to him that he would certainly freeze.

Dawn has arrived. The division turned off the highway, drove through a field and stopped at the edge of a pine forest. Cars, one after another, slowly made their way through the trees into the depths of the forest. The soldiers ran after them, pushing them if the wheels were slipping. When a German reconnaissance plane appeared in the brightening sky, all the vehicles and guns were standing under the pine trees. The pine trees sheltered them from the enemy pilot with shaggy branches.

The foreman came to the soldiers. He said that the division would stand here for at least a week, so it was necessary to build dugouts.

Mitya Kornev was assigned the simplest task: clearing the site of snow. The snow was shallow. Mitya’s shovel came across cones, fallen pine needles, and lingonberry leaves, green as if in summer. When Mitya touched the ground with a shovel, the shovel slid over it as if it were a stone.

“How can you dig a hole in such stone ground?” - thought Mitya.

Then a soldier came with a pickaxe. He dug grooves in the ground. Another soldier inserted a crowbar into the grooves and, leaning on it, picked out large frozen pieces. Under these pieces, like crumb under a hard crust, was loose sand.

The foreman walked around and looked to see if everything was being done correctly.

“Don’t throw sand too far,” he told Mitya Kornev, “a fascist reconnaissance officer will fly by, see yellow squares in the white forest, call bombers on the radio... He’ll get into trouble!”

When the wide and long hole became waist-deep for Mitya, they dug a ditch in the middle - a passage. On both sides of the passage there were bunks. They placed pillars at the edges of the pit and nailed a log onto them. Together with other soldiers, Mitya went to cut down surveillance.

The trails were placed with one end on a log and the other on the ground, just like making a hut. Then they were covered with spruce branches, frozen blocks of earth were placed on the spruce branches, the blocks were covered with sand and sprinkled with snow for camouflage.

“Go get some firewood,” the foreman told Mitya Kornev, prepare more. Can you feel the frost getting stronger! Yes, chop only alder and birch - they burn well even raw...

Mitya was chopping wood, while his comrades lined the bunks with small soft spruce branches and rolled an iron barrel into the dugout. There were two holes in the barrel - one at the bottom for putting firewood, the other at the top for a pipe. The pipe was made from empty tin cans. To prevent the fire from being visible at night, a canopy was placed on the pipe.

Mitya Kornev’s first day at the front passed very quickly. It got dark. The frost intensified. The snow creaked under the guards' feet. The pines stood as if petrified. The stars twinkled in the blue glass sky.

And it was warm in the dugout. Alder firewood burned hotly in an iron barrel. Only the frost on the raincoat that covered the entrance to the dugout reminded of the bitter cold. The soldiers laid out their overcoats, put duffel bags under their heads, covered themselves with their overcoats and fell asleep.

“How good it is to sleep in a dugout!” - thought Mitya Kornev and also fell asleep.

But the soldiers had little sleep. The division was ordered to immediately go to another section of the front: heavy fighting began there. The night stars were still trembling in the sky when cars with guns began to drive out of the forest onto the road.

The division raced along the highway. Snow dust swirled behind cars and guns. In the bodies, soldiers sat on boxes with shells. They huddled closer to each other and hid their faces in the prickly collars of their greatcoats so that the cold would not sting so much.

"Bag of Oatmeal"; “Why is the army dear?” L. Kassil from the book “Your Defenders”).

This page contains poems for children about the Great Patriotic War, about Victory, about the holiday of May 9, about soldiers, about veterans, about mass graves and obelisks, about the eternal flame and about the feat of soldiers.

He was buried in the globe

S. Orlov

They buried him in the globe,
And he was just a soldier,
In total, friends, a simple soldier,
No titles or awards.
The earth is like a mausoleum to him -
For a million centuries,
And the Milky Ways are gathering dust
Around him from the sides.
The clouds sleep on the red slopes,
Blizzards are sweeping,
Heavy thunder roars,
The winds are taking off.
The battle ended a long time ago...
By the hands of all friends
The guy is placed in the globe,
It's like being in a mausoleum...

No war

S. Mikhalkov

One day the children went to bed -
The windows are all darkened.
And we woke up at dawn -
There is light in the windows - and there is no war!

You don't have to say goodbye anymore
And don’t accompany him to the front -
They will return from the front,
We will wait for heroes.

The trenches will be overgrown with grass
At the sites of past battles.
Getting better every year
Hundreds of cities will stand still.

And in good moments
You will remember and I will remember,
Like from fierce enemy hordes
We cleared the edges.

Let's remember everything: how we were friends,
How we put out fires
Like our porch
They drank fresh milk
Gray with dust,
A tired fighter.

Let's not forget those heroes
What lies in the damp ground,
Giving my life on the battlefield
For the people, for you and me...

Glory to our generals,
Glory to our admirals
And to the ordinary soldiers -
On foot, swimming, horseback,
Tired, seasoned!
Glory to the fallen and the living -
Thank you to them from the bottom of my heart!

Obelisks

A. Ternovsky

There are obelisks in Russia,
They have the names of soldiers...
My boys the same age
They lie under the obelisks.
And to them, silent in sadness,
Flowers come from the field
The girls who were waiting for them so much
Now they are completely gray.

Victory Day

T. Belozerov

May holiday -
Victory Day
The whole country celebrates.
Our grandfathers put on
Military orders.

The road calls them in the morning
To the ceremonial parade.
And thoughtfully from the threshold
The grandmothers look after them.

What kind of holiday?

N. Ivanova

There are festive fireworks in the sky,
Fireworks here and there.
The whole country congratulates
Glorious veterans.

And the blooming spring
Gives them tulips
Gives white lilac.
What a glorious day in May?

Victory

Frontline songs,
Military awards,
Red tulips,
Veterans' meetings
And fireworks in half the sky,
Huge as Victory.

What is Victory Day

A. Usachev

What is Victory Day?
This is the morning parade:
Tanks and missiles are coming,
A line of soldiers is marching.

What is Victory Day?
This is a festive fireworks display:
Fireworks fly into the sky
Scattering here and there.

What is Victory Day?
These are songs at the table,
These are speeches and conversations,
This is my grandfather's album.

These are fruits and sweets,
These are the smells of spring...
What is Victory Day -
This means no war.

Day of Remembrance

Day of Remembrance -
Victory holiday,
Carrying wreaths
Living ligature,
Warmth of bouquets
Different colors,
So as not to get lost
Connection with the past.
And the mournful slabs are warmed
Flowers with the breath of the field.
Take it, fighter,
It's all like a gift
After all, this is necessary
Us,
Alive.

Old photo

S. Pivovarov

Photograph on the wall -
There are memories of the war in the house.
Dimkin's grandfather
On this photo:
With a machine gun near the pillbox,
Hand bandaged
Smiles slightly...

Here for just ten years
Older than Dimka
Dimkin's grandfather.

On the radio

Letter I tried
Write without blots:
"Please do
A gift for grandfather..."

Been on the road for a long time
Musical hello.

But here he comes
And my grandfather hugged me -
Came to see him on holiday
9th May
His favorite song
Frontline.

At the obelisk

The spruce froze on guard,
The blue of the peaceful sky is clear.
Years go by. In an alarming hum
The war is far away.

But here, at the edges of the obelisk,
Bowing my head in silence,

And a soul-tearing explosion of bombs.

We see them - Russian soldiers,

They paid with their lives

Veteran's Tale

Guys, I'm at war
I went into battle and was on fire.
Morz in the trenches near Moscow,
But, as you can see, he is alive.
Guys, I had no right
I'll freeze in the snow
Drowning at the crossings
Give your home to the enemy.
I should have come to my mother,
Grow bread, mow grass.
On Victory Day with you
See the blue sky.
Remember everyone who is in a bitter hour
He himself died, but saved the earth...
I'm giving a speech today
Here's what it's about, guys:
We must protect our homeland
Holy as a soldier!

No one is forgotten

A. Shamarin

“No one is forgotten and nothing is forgotten” -
Burning inscription on a block of granite.

The wind plays with faded leaves
And the wreaths are covered with cold snow.

But, like fire, at the foot there is a carnation.
No one is forgotten and nothing is forgotten.

Grandpa's friends

May... The birds are chirping with might and main,
And the parade is going on in the capital.
Grandfathers wear orders.
Happy Victory Day!

Friends come to grandpa
They come on Victory Day.
I like to listen for a long time
Their songs and conversations.

Burning gold in the sun
Military awards,
And they enter the house
To our peaceful home,
Front roads.

I sit silently next to you,
But sometimes it seems
Why am I looking through the sights?
That I'm preparing for a fight.

Friends come to grandpa
Celebrate the Victory.
There are fewer and fewer of them
But I believe:
They will come again.

Grandfather's portrait

V. Turov

Grandmother put on the medals
And now she’s so beautiful!
She celebrates Victory Day
Remembering the great war.
Grandma's face is sad.
There is a soldier's triangle on the table.
Grandfather's letter from the front
Even now it is very painful for her to read.
We look at grandfather's portrait
And we shake hands with my brother:
- Well, what kind of grandfather is this?
He's still just a boy!

Eternal flame

Above the grave, in a quiet park
The tulips bloomed brightly.
The fire is always burning here,
A Soviet soldier is sleeping here.

We bowed low
At the foot of the obelisk,
Our wreath blossomed on it
Hot, fiery fire.

Soldiers defended the world
They gave their lives for us.
Let's keep it in our hearts
Bright memory of them!

Like a continuation of the life of a soldier
Under the stars of a peaceful power
Flowers burn on military graves
Wreaths of unfading glory.

Salute to Victory

Salute and glory to the anniversary
Forever a memorable day!
Salute to Victory in Berlin
The power of fire has been trampled by fire!
Salute to her big and small

To her soldiers and generals,
To the heroes fallen and alive,
Firework!

Dead and alive

To the dead -
Be constantly on duty
They live in street names and epics.
Their exploits are holy beauty
Artists will display it in paintings.
Alive -
To honor heroes, not to forget,
Keep their names in immortal lists,
Remind everyone of their courage
And lay flowers at the foot of the obelisks!

We need peace

Everyone needs peace and friendship,
Peace is more important than anything in the world,
On a land where there is no war,
The children sleep peacefully at night.
Where the guns don't thunder,
The sun is shining brightly in the sky.
We need peace for all the guys.
We need peace on the entire planet!

Let there be peace!

Let the machine guns not fire,
And the menacing guns are silent,

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!

Victory Day

N. Tomilina

Victory Day May 9 -
A holiday of peace in the country and spring.
On this day we remember the soldiers,
Those who did not return to their families from the war.

On this holiday we honor our grandfathers,
Defending their native country,
To those who gave Victory to the peoples
And who returned peace and spring to us!

Who was in the war

My daughter once turned to me:
- Dad, tell me, who was in the war?

Grandfather Lenya - military pilot -
There was a combat aircraft flying in the sky.

Grandfather Zhenya was a paratrooper.
He didn't like to remember the war

And he answered my questions:
- The battles were very difficult.

Grandma Sonya worked as a doctor,
She saved the lives of soldiers under fire.

Great-grandfather Alyosha in cold winter
He fought with enemies near Moscow itself.

Great-grandfather Arkady died in the war.
Everyone served their homeland well.

Many people did not return from the war.
It's easier to answer who wasn't there.

Congratulations to grandfather on May 9

Congratulations grandpa
Happy Victory Day.
It's even good
That he wasn't there.

Was then as I am now,
Vertically challenged.
Although he did not see the enemy -
I just hated it!

He worked like a big man
For a handful of bread,
The day of Victory was approaching,
Even though he was not a fighter.

Steadfastly endured all hardships,
Paying with childhood
To live and grow in peace
His grandson is wonderful.

So that in abundance and love
Enjoyed life
So that I don't see the war,
My grandfather saved the Fatherland.

Medals

A veteran is a seasoned fighter,
I've seen a lot in my life.
He is brave in battle
Defended his country!

On Victory Day they sparkled
There are medals on his chest.
There are medals on his chest!
My sister and I counted them.

We celebrate Victory Day

A. Igebaev

We celebrate Victory Day,
He comes with flowers and banners.
We are all heroes today
We call by name.

We know: it’s not at all easy
He came to us - Victory Day.
This day has been conquered
Our dads, our grandfathers.

And that's why today
They put on medals.
We, going to the holiday with them,
They sang a sonorous song.

We dedicate this song
To our dads, our grandfathers.
To our beloved Motherland
Glory, glory on Victory Day!

"Friends come to grandpa"

Vladimir Stepanov

Friends come to grandpa
They come on Victory Day.
I like to listen for a long time
Their songs and conversations.

I don't ask them to repeat
Secret stories:
After all, repeating means losing again
Military comrades,
Which are still being sought
Military awards,
One is a sergeant, the other is a major.
And more ordinary people.

I don't ask for them every year
Tell me first
About how the army advances
I walked with losses.
About what kind of gunfire there is,
How bullets are aimed at the heart...
“War,” they sigh, “war.”
Do you remember how in July?”

I'm just sitting next to you
But sometimes it seems
Why am I looking through the sights?
That I'm preparing for a fight.

What do you want. Who writes letters to me?
They are no longer waiting for an answer,
That even summer is at war -
A completely different summer.

Friends come to grandpa
Celebrate the Victory.
There are fewer and fewer of them, but I believe:
They will come, they will come...

No, the word “peace” will hardly remain

V. Berestov

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.

Boy from the village of Popovki

S. Ya. Marshak

Among the snowdrifts and funnels
In a village destroyed to the ground,
The child stands with his eyes closed -
The last citizen of the village.

Scared white kitten
A fragment of a stove and pipe -
And that's all that survived
From my former life and hut.

White-headed Petya is standing
And cries like an old man without tears,
He lived in the world for three years,
And what I learned and endured.

In his presence they burned down his hut,
They drove mom away from the yard,
And in a hastily dug grave
The murdered sister lies.

Don't let go of your rifle, soldier,
Until you take revenge on the enemy
For the blood shed in Popovka,
And for the child in the snow.

The beauty that nature gives us...

A. Surkov

The beauty that nature gives us,
The soldiers defended themselves in the fire,
May day of forty-fifth year
Became the last point in the war.

For everything that we have now,
For every happy hour we have,
Because the sun shines on us,
Thanks to the valiant soldiers -
To our grandfathers and fathers.

No wonder there are fireworks today
In honor of our Fatherland,
In honor of our soldiers!

Victory Day

Many years ago
It was a great Victory Day.
Grandfathers remember Victory Day
Each of the grandchildren knows.
Bright holiday Victory Day
The whole country celebrates.
Our grandparents
They put on orders.
We are talking about the first Victory Day
We love listening to their story
How our grandfathers fought
For the whole world and for all of us.

Even then we were not in the world...

M. Vladimov

When fireworks thundered from one end to another.
Soldiers, you gave to the planet
Great May, victorious May!
Even then we were not in the world,
When in a military storm of fire,
Deciding the fate of future centuries,
You fought a holy battle!

Even then we were not in the world,
When you came home with Victory.
Soldiers of May, glory to you forever
From all the earth, from all the earth!

Thank you, soldiers.
For life, for childhood and spring,
For the silence
For a peaceful home,
For the world we live in!

When you went into mortal combat...

A. Voskoboynikov

When you went into mortal combat,
Faithful sons of the fatherland,
About a peaceful and happy life
You dreamed during the war.

You saved the world from fascism,
You have obscured us with your hearts.
I bow to you deeply,
We are eternally indebted to you.

You passed heroically
With battles all four years,
You were able to defeat the enemy
And earn the love of the people.

Thank you, fathers and grandfathers,
Thank you brothers and sons
For your gift for Victory Day,
Behind main holiday all over the country!

The sun disappeared behind the mountain...

A. Kovalenkov

The sun disappeared behind the mountain,

And along the steppe road

From the heat, from the evil heat
The tunics on the shoulders were faded;
Your battle banner
The soldiers shielded themselves from their enemies with their hearts.

They did not spare lives
Defending the father's land - the native country;
Defeated, won
All enemies in the battles for the holy Motherland.

The sun disappeared behind the mountain,
The river riffles have become foggy,
And along the steppe road
Soviet soldiers were walking home from the war.

May the sky be blue...

N. Naydenova

May the sky be blue
Let there be no smoke in the sky,
Let the menacing guns be silent
And the machine guns don’t fire,
So that people, cities live...
Peace is always needed on earth!

In a clearing, close to the camp...

V. Fetisov

In a clearing, close to the camp,
Where wild rosemary blooms all summer,
Looking at the road from the obelisk
Infantryman, sailor and pilot.

Imprint of a happy childhood
Preserved on the faces of the soldiers,
But they can’t escape anywhere now
From the military severity of dates.

“In the same green June,”
An elderly foreman told us,
She took them, cheerful and young,
And the war did not bring me home.

At dawn, holding the machine guns,
The soldiers were going to storm the heights..."

To our ageless counselors
We placed flowers at our feet.

At the obelisk

The spruce froze on guard,
The blue of the peaceful sky is clear.
Years go by. In an alarming hum
The war is far away.
But here, at the edges of the obelisk,
Bowing my head in silence,
We hear the roar of tanks close
And a soul-tearing explosion of bombs.
We see them - Russian soldiers,
That in that distant terrible hour
They paid with their lives
For bright happiness for us...

Name

S. Pogorelovsky

To the broken pillbox
The guys come
They bring flowers
To the soldier's grave.
He fulfilled his duty
Before our people.
But what's his name?
Where is he from?
Was he killed in the attack?
Died in defense?
Not a word from the grave
He won’t let it slip.
After all, there is no inscription.
Unanswered grave.
To know, in that terrible hour
There was no time for inscriptions.

To the local old ladies
The guys come in -
Find out, ask them,
What once was.
- What happened?!
Oh, darlings!..
Rumble, battle!
The little soldier remained
Alone surrounded.
One -
And didn't give up
Fascist army.
Fought heroically
And he died heroically.
One -
And he kept it
Come on, the whole company!..
He was young, dark-haired,
Short in stature.
Drink before the fight
He ran into the village,
That's what he said, like,
What comes from the Urals.
We ourselves are heartfelt
They buried here -
At the old pine tree
In an unmarked grave.

To the rural post office
The guys are coming.
Registered letter
Will find the addressee.
They will deliver to the capital
His postmen.
The letter will be read
Minister of Defense.
The lists will be reviewed again,
Behind the record is a record...
And here they are -
First name, last name, address!
And will form a column
Countless heroes,
There will be another one -
Posthumously,
Immortal.

Old lady from the Urals
The guys will hug.
They will take her to her son,
To the soldier's grave
Whose bright name
Covered with flowers...
No one is forgotten
And nothing is forgotten!

Let children not know war

I haven't seen the war, but I know
How difficult it was for the people
And hunger, and cold, and horror -
They got to experience everything.

Let them live peacefully on the planet,
Let children not know war,
Let bright sun shining!
We friendly family there must be!

Salute to Victory

Salute and glory to the anniversary
Forever a memorable day!
Salute to Victory in Berlin
The power of fire has been trampled by fire!
Salute to her big and small
To the creators who walked the same path,
To her soldiers and generals,
To the heroes fallen and alive,
Firework!

9th May

May.
Russia.
Spring is blooming.
The war died down long ago.
And today at the mass graves
Let us remember those who saved our lives.

Victory

Frontline songs,
Military awards,
Red tulips,
Veterans' meetings
And fireworks in half the sky,
Huge as Victory.

Day of Remembrance

Day of Remembrance -
Victory holiday,
Carrying wreaths
Living ligature,
Warmth of bouquets
Different colors,
So as not to get lost
Connection with the past.
And the mournful slabs are warmed
Flowers with the breath of the field.
Take it, fighter,
It's all like a gift
After all, this is necessary
Us,
Alive.

Victory

My great grandfather
Told me about the war.
How they fought in a tank,
Burnt in fire
Lost friends
Defending the country.
Victory has come
In the forty-fifth year!

Evening sky
Victory fireworks.
Russian soldiers
Our sleep is protected.
I will grow up -
I'll tell my children
Like their great-grandfathers
Defended the country!

To the victorious army

The whole planet saw
In clouds of fire and smoke -
Your glory is immortal
The will is indestructible.

Your strength is steel
Moved like an avalanche
Along the banks of the Danube,
Through the squares of Berlin.

We were on fire,
We slept in the snowdrifts,
Many have grown old
Many died in the field.

Much is now a memory
Can't restore.
A new day is coming -
The old one will live with glory.

Only time doesn't dare
Take the words out of the song
Only good seed
It comes out again and again -

In new regiments and companies,
In our children and grandchildren,
In your new campaigns,
In new iron marches.

I see other faces
Bayonet and line of the Charter.
Old glory lasts
New glory is brewing!

Tankman's story

Alexander Tvardovsky

What’s his name, I forgot to ask him.

About ten or twelve years old. Bedovy,
Of those who are the leaders of children,
From those in the front-line towns
They greet us like dear guests.

The car is surrounded in parking lots,
Carrying water to them in buckets is not difficult,
Bring soap and towel to the tank
And unripe plums are put in...

There was a battle going on outside. The enemy fire was terrible,
We made our way forward to the square.
And he nails - you can’t look out of the towers, -
And the devil will understand where he’s hitting from.

Here, guess which house is behind
He sat down - there were so many holes,
And suddenly a boy ran up to the car:
- Comrade commander, comrade commander!

I know where their gun is. I scouted...
I crawled up, they were over there in the garden...
- But where, where?.. - Let me go
On the tank with you. I'll give it straight away.

Well, no fight awaits. - Get in here, buddy! —
And so the four of us roll to the place.
The boy is standing - mines, bullets whistling,
And only the shirt has a bubble.

We've arrived. - Here. - And from a turn
We go to the rear and give full throttle.
And this gun, along with the crew,
We sank into loose, greasy black soil.

I wiped off the sweat. Smothered by fumes and soot:
There was a big fire going from house to house.
And I remember I said: “Thank you, lad!” —
And he shook hands like a comrade...

It was a difficult fight. Everything now is as if from sleep,
And I just can’t forgive myself:
From thousands of faces I would recognize the boy,
But what’s his name, I forgot to ask him.

Children sing about war

(Dedication of the veteran poet to schoolchildren)

Schoolchildren today about the war
Sang songs and read poems
In a small cozy school hall,
In extraordinary silence.
Veterans, without hiding their tears,
We listened to the children and remembered
The songs that were sung at the halt,
Despite the noise of military thunderstorms.
Resurrected in the memory of the soldiers
The roar of bombs, victories over enemies,
Bright in a deadly hurricane
The exploits of husbands, sons, fathers.
These children are no worse than us -
Children of wartime hard times.
Naughty people? So, well, they are children.
Is childhood without mischief?
An inquisitive look, like a big question,
Thirst for knowledge, thirst for hobbies,
Impatience of moralizing...
Did anyone grow up differently?
How they sing! And in their eyes -
Pain for troubles, joy for victories,
Pride in Russia and our grandfathers,
Defending the Motherland from evil.
To the dead and the living - bow to the ground,
Poems for great-grandchildren and songs for grandchildren.
The children will get up, God forbid, but if
The enemy will go to war against Russia.

Muscovites

Evgeniy Vinokurov

In the fields beyond the sleepy Vistula
They lie in the damp ground
Earring with Malaya Bronnaya
And Vitka and Mokhovaya.

And somewhere in a crowded world
Which year in a row
Alone in an empty apartment
Their mothers don't sleep.

The light of the lamp is inflamed
Burning over Moscow
In the window on Malaya Bronnaya,
In the window on Mokhovaya.

Friends won't get up. In District
The movie goes on without them.
Girls, their friends,
Everyone has been married for a long time.

The bottomless vault is burning,
And the night rustles with leaves
Above the quiet Malaya Bronnaya,
Above the quiet Mokhovaya.

Don't play war, boys.

V. Vologdin
To the boys playing war
I will hold it out in my big palms
Two dozen taken at random
Tin little soldiers.

Look carefully, my friend,
This one has no arms, and this one has no legs.
The third is black, his teeth are just like chalk.
Apparently he burned alive in the tank.

And the fourth, orders are like a shield -
He was killed in Berlin in May.
And here is this one in the thick dawn
In 1943 he drowned in the Dnieper.

The sixth has tears in his eyes,
Forty years since my eyes went out...
I’ll give a handful of soldiers to the guys,
Don't play war, boys.

True story for children

Sergey Mikhalkov

I am writing this story to children...
__________

Summer night, at dawn,
Hitler gave the troops an order
And he sent German soldiers
Against all Soviet people -
This means - against us.

He wanted free people
Turn the hungry into slaves
To be deprived of everything forever.
And the stubborn and rebels,
Those who did not fall to their knees,
Exterminate every single one!

He ordered them to destroy
Trampled and burned
Everything that we kept together
They took better care of their eyes,
So that we endure need,
They didn’t dare sing our songs
Near his house,
So that there is everything for the Germans,
For foreign fascists,
And for the Russians and for others,
For peasants and workers -
Nothing!

"No! - we told the fascists, -
Our people will not tolerate
So that Russian bread is fragrant
Called by the word "brot".

We live in a Soviet country,
We recognize the German language,
Italian, Danish, Swedish
And we admit Turkish
Both English and French
But in native land in Russian
We write, we think, we eat.

Then we can only breathe freely,
If we hear native speech,
Speech in Russian,
And in his ancient capital,
Both in the village and in the village,
And far from home.

Where is the strength in the world?
So that she can break us,
Bent us under the yoke
In those regions where on the days of victory
Our great-grandparents
Have you feasted so many times?

And from sea to sea
The Bolsheviks rose up
And from sea to sea
The Russian regiments stood up.
We stood up, united with the Russians,
Belarusians, Latvians,
People of free Ukraine,
Both Armenians and Georgians,
Moldovans, Chuvashs -

All Soviet peoples
Against a common enemy
Everyone who loves freedom
And Russia is expensive!

And when Russia stood up
In this difficult menacing hour,
“Everyone - to the front!” - Moscow said.
“We’ll give everything!” - said Kuzbass.

“Never,” said the mountains, “
The Ural has never been in debt!” -
"Enough oil for the engines,
I’ll help!” - said Baku.

"I own riches,
You can’t count them, even if you count them forever!
I won’t regret anything!” -
This is how Altai responded.

"We are left homeless
Ready to welcome you into your home,
Shelter will be given to orphans!” -
Meeting the disadvantaged
Replying to Kazakhstan,
Uzbekistan swore.

"Every faithful warrior will
And fed and watered,
The whole country is shod and dressed.” -
“Everyone - to the front!” - Moscow
said.
"All! - the country answered her. -
Everything is for future victories!”

Days and weeks flew by
This was not the first year of war.
Showed himself in action
Our people are heroic.

You can't even tell it in a fairy tale,
Neither words nor pen,
How helmets flew from enemies
Near Moscow and Orel.

How, advancing to the west,
Red fighters fought -
Our army is dear,
Our brothers and fathers.

How the partisans fought. -
The Motherland is proud of them!
How wounds heal
Battle cities.

You can’t describe what they were like in this one
All the fights there were.
The Germans were beaten here and there,
As soon as they beat you, fireworks!

These fireworks are from Moscow
Were heard by everyone in the world,
Both friend and enemy heard them.
If there are fireworks, that means -
Over some roof somewhere
The red flag waved again.

Look at the school map,
Where were we in February?
How many miles did we walk in March?
In your native land?

Here we stood in April,
Here the troops greeted May,
Here we took so many prisoners,
So try to calculate it!

Glory to our generals,
Glory to our admirals
And to the ordinary soldiers -
On foot, swimming, horseback,
Tempered in hot battles!
Glory to the fallen and the living,
Thank you to them from the bottom of my heart!

Let's not forget those heroes
What lies in the damp ground,
Giving my life on the battlefield
For the people - for you and me.

Wherever we hit the enemy,
Wherever the enemy retreats,
Always remembered about the home front
Our soldier and general:

"Yes!
You can't finish off the fascists
And cleanse the world of them
Without Moscow tractor drivers,
Without Ivanovo weavers,
Without the one who is day and night
There is coal in the mines,
Sows grain, sharpens shells,
Melts steel, forges armor.”

You can't tell you were in this one
All miracles about our rear,
Apparently, the time will come,
And about honest workers,
Famous, unknown
Our people will compose songs.

Without a gun and without a grenade
And away from the front
These people are like soldiers
We were also at war.

We will never forget
Their heroic deeds.
Honor and glory to these people
And great praise!

One by one, on foot,
Over rocks and grass
They drive prisoners under escort,
They are driving to Mother Moscow.

There are not ten or twenty of them,
There are not two hundred and fifty of them -
Maybe the army will gather
Officers and soldiers.

Dust swirls in clouds
Over the front road...
Why are you unhappy, Krauts?
Why did you hang your head?

You didn't wait, you didn't guess
Neither in a dream nor in reality -
Just like we said
You will end up in Moscow.

Trophies are being carried past you
To our Russian museums,
To show people
What did you want to take us with?

And cars are rushing towards me
Our valiant regiments.
- How far is it to Berlin? -
People are shouting at you from the trucks.

Dust swirls in clouds...
Along the roads, here and there,
Murderers and Murderers
They are being taken prisoner under escort...

Dust... Dust... Dust... Dust...

I continue the story for the children!

Under the victorious roar of guns
On these stormy days
In the sea, in the sky and on land
We didn't fight alone.

I shook hands with English fighters
Russian army soldiers,
And distant San Francisco
Turned out to be just as close
Like Moscow and Leningrad.

Next to us, together with us,
Like a stream breaking the ice,
For the sake of liberty and honor
And the people's holy vengeance
The people stood behind the people.

We, said the Yugoslavs,
Let's not give up our glory!
We will not be under the yoke! -
And the Slovaks said:
- Our will was crushed!
How can we not fight! -
Break away from Berlin
Italians and Romanians:
- Stop fighting for Berlin! -
Bulgarians are also reluctant
To die for a German for nothing:
- Let one go to the bottom!

A Frenchman will live in Paris,
In Prague - Czech, in Athens - Greek.
Not offended, not humiliated
He will be a proud man!

Cities will breathe freely -
No raids, no alarms!
Go anywhere
On any of all roads!..

One day the children went to bed -
The windows are all darkened
And we woke up at dawn -
There is light in the windows and there is no war!

You don't have to say goodbye anymore
And don’t accompany me to the front,
And don’t be afraid of raids,
And don't wait for night worries.

Blackout canceled
And now for many years
For people only for treatment
Blue light will be needed.

People celebrate Victory!
The news flies everywhere:
From the front they go, they go, they go
Our brothers and fathers!

Everyone has medals on their chests,
And many have orders.
Where haven't they been?
And what time did they give?
The war did not abandon them!

You can’t tell you were in this one,
What kind of life did they lead?
How they got cold in the Carpathians,
Where they swam by river, where they swam by sea,
How they lived in eight capitals,
How many countries have you walked through?

Like on the streets of Berlin
In the hour of fighting they found the Reichstag,
Like two faithful sons above him -
Russian son and Georgian son -
They hoisted a red flag.

From Berlin to Amur,
And then to Port Arthur,
What lies by the warm waters,
We visited Khingan,
What always stands in the fog,
And on the Pacific
We finished our hike.

Neighbor says to neighbor:
- As soon as I get home to myself,
I'll go straight to school
And collective farm children -
Tanek, Manek, Fedek, Grishek -
I'll start learning again!

Well, I'll come home, -
Neighbor says to neighbor,
After the front I’ll rest,
I'll wear it for another week
A tunic and an overcoat,
I'll start building in the city,
What was destroyed in the war!

And the collective farm misses me, -
The third one from the shelf answers, -
My collective farm near Kostroma.
I've been going for eight days
Yes, I count all the minutes -
Soon, soon home!

Cars run day and night,
Columns are walking along the highway
Frontline trucks,
And the accordions sing
About the affairs of front-line soldiers...

You can’t describe what they were like in this one
(Even a poem won’t help!),
How proud the soldiers were
That the people meet them
They are our protectors!

And mixed on the platforms
With a noisy, joyful crowd:
Sons in military uniforms,
And husbands in military uniforms,
And fathers in military uniforms,
That they came home from the war.

Hello, victorious warrior,
My comrade, friend and brother,
My protector, my savior -
Red Army soldiers!

Throughout the war in any village,
In every house and hut
People thought with excitement
Remembered with admiration
And with love about you.

And everywhere they were proud of you,
And you can't find your family
There is no home where they would not be stored
Your photos:

In modest frames above the bed,
On the chest of drawers, on the wall,
Where are you filmed in your overcoat,
Shot on foot or on horseback,

Is it filmed alone or with a crew?
In a combat situation -
Are you an officer or, let's say,
Private infantryman.

Finally at the desired hour
Our dream come true -
At the hour of the long-awaited victory
You have returned to your father's house!

But there are still quite a few of them
Officers and soldiers
whose death has passed,
But he was hit by a shell in battle.

If you meet someone like this,
Young but gray-haired
Combat veteran
(Sign of a wound on the chest),
Do him a favor
Help him like a friend
Don't pass by indifferently!..

They take on things boldly
Well done front-line soldiers,
And in the country any business
It’s convenient for them, it’s out of their hands!

We need all Soviet citizens
Feed, dress, put on shoes,
So that everyone is happy
From the heart, not just any way!

If earlier "self-propelled guns"
Supplied by another plant
Then today the frying pans
Launched at full speed.

And the platforms with the forest are running,
There - with ore, and there - with coal,
From Donbass to Dneproges
Night after night, day after day.

Yes! We have one concern
And everyone has the same dream,
To the sunny heights
The country has risen again -
Strong, glorious and mighty
From the capital to the village,
Much more beautiful, much better
What ever was.

The days of fighting are over,
We fought well -
Like soldiers, they performed
An order from our Motherland.
And today, in a peaceful hour,
Dear Motherland,
Rely on us again!

With everything that the Motherland has,
Together the people own
Counting the fields, forests,
Cornfields, pastures and waters,
Mines, mines and factories
And as an example to other nations
He manages them himself!

And we are in power
Not a landowner, not a banker,
And a simple worker is a master
And the collective farm foreman.
Chosen by the people
Our Soviet deputy
Not of noble birth
And he is not rich in gold.

He is rich in his freedom
And the consciousness of
What on behalf of the people
He decides his fate!

He is rich in his love
To that land that in a terrible hour,
Sprinkled with your blood,
He, like his own mother, saved.

Two chambers will meet,
Deputies will sit next to you:
Belarusian and Armenian,
Ukrainian, Moldovan,
Ossetian, Kazakh, Tatar,
Both Estonian and Georgian -
All nations as one!

There will be quite a few of them,
Sons and daughters:
And soldiers and commanders,
And other heroes!..

With our beloved party
We are not separated anywhere.
She stands for the people
With her, the Motherland is strong.

Who is unknown today
But fearless, brave and honest,
One who loves his people
And he follows the party,
Who can do anything?
He will help his country
In the region where he lives!

So let's help our government
In cities and villages
Bringing happiness to the people
On your native land!

Forever little sister

Tatiana Gusarova

In that forty-first year, she
Getting up from my school desk,
She went to the front at the age of sixteen,
To become a nurse, voluntarily.

As in the horror of those terrible years
Don't lose faith in life,
We don't understand, we haven't known troubles
THIS is the size.

Under a hail of bullets, forgetting about fear,
She had the strength
Soldier on thin shoulders
She carried me out of the battle.

Savior-angel for fighters:
- Some water... drink... some water...
- I don’t see... it hurts... my face burns...
- I won’t die, sister?!

The war is long over.
That girl with the pigtail
Someone's mother, daughter, wife,
But forever - sister!

I am the ancestors of the Slavic blood

Yuri Solovyov

I am the ancestors of the Slavic blood.
I am the soldier's widow's tear,
Overgrown trench blade of grass,
The dying battle is a thunderstorm.

I am the moan of a young soldier
Killed in the first battle.
I am the feeling of sudden loss
When they give a funeral.

I am the stars on the obelisks,
The tenacity of Soviet soldiers
Those killed near Naro-Fominsk,
Without taking a step back.

I am the bitter joy of Victory!
I am proud of the Russian people!
And no matter what I do
And wherever I am,
All this lives with me!

An experienced company commander and an uncomplaining private

Yuri Solovyov

To battle!
- For the Motherland!
..and resignedly
The private ran towards the enemy...
And he was mowed down along with the company commander
Merciless machine gun fire,
By the ravine...
Forever…
Not buried - too troublesome
this is what happened during the war...
Company daisies sprout,
The private is sleeping, covered with earth.
.............................. ...........
Along the foggy lowland where they were
Two boys were killed then
Mares wander with foals,
...the haystacks breathe like rotted clover.

Grave mound

Yuri Solovyov

An unknown soldier lies
killed in a terrible war,
under the apple tree there is a hillock without dates,
no one will write to relatives...

There is such silence,
no one lives in the area,
just an old lady alone
The ninth of May will come.

She will unravel the knot
with a tired trembling hand,
put a bag of toffee,
pray for peace.

Smoothing the grass with your hand,
the old lady will cry without tears,
she will remember her son in reality
and the smell of birth hair.
………………………………….
A churchyard overgrown with weeds,
There is a ruined temple near the river.
Nettle grows to full height
In places familiar from childhood.

East - West

Yuri Solovyov

Hans fought his way to Ost,
To Moscow, in a straight line, forty miles,
On his chest is a knight's cross
For Brest, left in ruins.

From Siberia, leaving my mother there,
Vanya went to defend the country,
The train rushed the recruit to the West,
The Orthodox guy had a cross.

And they collided on the bridge,
In hand-to-hand combat for Moscow.
Ost na Vest,
life for life,
cross to cross.
...they won't see any more brides.

Bad news flies with the funeral,
Russian mother on Ost,
And the German one is on the West.
……………………………………..
Flowers grow through the ribs near the bridge,
Soldiers are sleeping in the ground...
under the hill...
Without a cross.

I'm leaving the war, I'm going home...

Yuri Solovyov

Rifle company private
I'm leaving the war, I'm going home.
I laugh and cry at myself,
- Alive?..alive.
- Home?.. home.
And they echo behind
Soldiers who became the earth
- Alive...alive...home...home. ..

The village sleeps basking in the fog,
At the temple, a stork waits for dawn.
I'm incredibly lucky
That overpowered pain and evil
And surviving out of spite,
I'm alive...and I'm seeing it again.
..............................

Rifle company private
Came from the war, came home...
...home.

Veterans of the Great Patriotic War

Yuri Solovyov

How few of them are left on earth
My legs can't walk and my wounds bother me,
And at night they smoke, so that in a nightmare,
Again they were not shot at on the battlefield.

Don't let your grandchildren suffer from war
And the dirt will not touch her descendants,
Let the former company sergeant smoke
And listens to his great-granddaughter laugh.

Fragile butterfly of silence

Yuri Solovyov

Among death
Bloody crumble,
People, believe
Something good!
And maybe
After the war,
On a small hill in the sandbox
A fragile butterfly of silence will settle.
I really want to believe this!..

Robert Rozhdestvensky

(excerpt from the poem “REQUIEM”)

Remember! Through the centuries, through the years - remember!
Remember about those who will never come again!
Do not Cry! Hold back the moans in your throat, the bitter moans.
Be worthy of the memory of the fallen! Eternally worthy!
With bread and song, dream and poetry, spacious life,
Be worthy with every second, with every breath!

People! While hearts are knocking, remember!
At what price was happiness won - please remember!
When you send your song into flight, remember!
About those who will never sing again - remember!
Tell your children about them so they will remember them!
Tell your children's children about them so that they remember them too!

At all times of the immortal Earth remember!
When leading ships to the twinkling stars, remember the dead!
Welcome the vibrant spring, people of the Earth.
Kill the war, curse the war, people of the Earth!
Carry your dream through the years and fill it with life!..
But about those who will never come again, I conjure, remember!
1962

Sofye Krevo
The fire is beating in the small stove,
There is resin on the logs, like a tear,
And the accordion sings to me in the dugout
About your smile and eyes.
The bushes whispered to me about you
In snow-white fields near Moscow.
I want you to hear
How my living voice yearns.
You are far, far away now.
Between us there is snow and snow.
It's not easy for me to reach you,
And there are four steps to death.
Sing, harmonica, in spite of the blizzard,
Call lost happiness.
I feel warm in a cold dugout
From my unquenchable love.

Alexey Surkov November 1941

"Do you remember, Alyosha, the roads of the Smolensk region..."
(To A. Surkov)
Do you remember, Alyosha, the roads of the Smolensk region,
How the endless, angry rains fell,
How tired women brought us krinkas,
Holding them to my chest like children from the rain,
How they wiped away tears furtively,
As they whispered after us: “Lord save you!” -
And again they called themselves soldiers,
As was the custom in great Rus' of old.
Measured by tears more often than by miles,
There was a road, hiding from view on the hills:
Villages, villages, villages with graveyards,
It’s as if all of Russia has come to see them,
As if behind every Russian outskirts,
Protecting the living with the cross of your hands,
Having gathered with the whole world, our great-grandfathers pray
For their grandchildren who don’t believe in God.
You know, probably, after all, the Motherland -
Not the city house where I lived on holiday,
And these country roads that our grandfathers passed through,
With simple crosses from their Russian graves.
I don’t know about you, but I and the village girl
Road melancholy from village to village,
With a widow's tear and a woman's song
For the first time, the war came together on the country roads.
Do you remember, Alyosha: a hut near Borisov,
For the dead, a girl's crying cry,
A gray-haired old woman in a corduroy cloak,
All in white, as if dressed to death, an old man.
Well, what could we tell them, how could we console them?
But, understanding grief with my woman’s instincts,
Do you remember the old woman said: - Dear ones,
While you go, we will wait for you.
“We will wait for you!” - the pastures told us.
“We will wait for you!” - said the forests.
You know, Alyosha, at night it seems to me
That their voices are following me.
According to Russian customs, only fires
On Russian soil, scattered behind,
Comrades died before our eyes,
In Russian, he tore his shirt on his chest.
The bullets still have mercy on you and me.
But, having believed three times that life is all over,
I was still proud of the sweetest one,
For the bitter land where I was born,
Because I was bequeathed to die on it,
That a Russian mother gave birth to us,
What, accompanying us into battle, is a Russian woman
She hugged me three times in Russian.

Konstantin Simonov

"Cranes"

Sometimes it seems to me that the soldiers
Those who did not come from the bloody fields,
They once did not perish in this earth,
And they turned into white cranes.
They are still from those distant times
They fly and give us voices.
Isn’t that why it’s so often and sad
Do we fall silent while looking at the heavens?
Today, in the early evening,
I see cranes in the fog
They fly in their own specific formation,
They wandered like people through the fields.
They fly, complete their long journey
And they call out someone's name.
Isn’t that why with the cry of a crane
Has Avar speech been similar since centuries?
A tired wedge flies, flies across the sky -
Flying in the fog at the end of the day,
And in that order there is a small gap -
Maybe this is the place for me!
The day will come, and with a flock of cranes
I will swim in the same gray haze,
Calling from under the sky like a bird
All of you whom I left on earth.

Rasul Gamzatov

"The boy from the village of Popovki"

Among the snowdrifts and funnels
In a village destroyed to the ground,
The child stands with his eyes closed -
The last citizen of the village.
Scared white kitten
A fragment of a stove and pipe -
And that's all that survived
From my former life and hut.
White-headed Petya is standing
And cries like an old man without tears,
He lived in the world for three years,
And what I learned and endured.
In his presence they burned down his hut,
They drove mom away from the yard,
And in a hastily dug grave
The murdered sister lies.
Don't let go of your rifle, soldier,
Until you take revenge on the enemy
For the blood shed in Popovka,
And for the child in the snow.

Samuel Marshak

***
She consoled the tattered bear
Girl in a mutilated hut:
"Don't cry, don't cry... I was malnourished myself,
I left you half a cracker...

The shells flew and exploded,
Black earth mixed with blood...
There was a family, there was a home... Now they remain
All alone in the world - you and I..."

And behind the village the grove was smoking,
Struck by monstrous fire,
And Death flew around like an angry bird,
An unexpected misfortune came to the house...

“Do you hear, Mish, I’m strong, I don’t cry,
And they will give me a machine gun at the front.

I will take revenge for hiding my tears,
Because our pines are burning..."

But in the silence the bullets whistled loudly,
An ominous reflection flashed in the window...
And the girl ran out of the house:
“Oh, Mishka, Mishka, how scared I am!..”

"Fale for Children"

Summer night, at dawn,
Hitler gave the troops an order
And he sent German soldiers
Against all Soviet people -
This means - against us.

He wanted free people
Turn the hungry into slaves
To be deprived of everything forever.
And the stubborn and rebels,
Those who did not fall to their knees,
Exterminate every single one!

He ordered them to destroy
Trampled and burned
Everything that we kept together
They took better care of their eyes,

So that we endure need,
They didn’t dare sing our songs
Near his house.

To have everything for the Germans
For foreign fascists.
And for the Russians and for others,
For peasants and workers - Nothing!

No! - we told the fascists.
- Our people will not tolerate
So that Russian bread is fragrant
Called by the word "brot"...

And from sea to sea
The Bolsheviks rose up
And from sea to sea
The Russian regiments stood up.

We stood up, united with the Russians,
Belarusians, Latvians,
People of free Ukraine,
Both Armenians and Georgians,
Moldovans, Chuvashs -

All Soviet peoples
Against a common enemy
Everyone who loves freedom
And Russia is expensive!

The fighter's eyes are filled with tears,
He lies, tense and white,
And I need fused bandages
Rip it off with one bold movement.
One movement - that's what we were taught.
One movement - only this is a pity...
But having met the gaze of terrible eyes,
I didn’t dare to make this move.
I generously poured peroxide onto the bandage,
Trying to soak it without pain.
And the paramedic became angry
And she repeated: “Woe is me with you!
To stand on ceremony with everyone like that is a disaster.
And you’re only adding to his torment.”
But the wounded always aimed
Fall into my slow hands.

No need to tear the attached bandages,
When they can be removed almost without pain.
I understood it, you will understand it too...
What a pity that the science of kindness
You can't learn from books at school!

" Victory Day"

Victory Day. And in the fireworks
Like thunder: - Remember forever,
That in battles every minute,
Yes, literally every minute
Ten people died!

How to understand and how to comprehend this:
Ten strong, vigorous, young,
Full of faith, joy and light
And alive, desperately alive!

Everyone has a house or hut somewhere,
Somewhere there is a garden, a river, familiar laughter,
Mother, wife... And if unmarried,
That girl is the best of all.

On eight fronts of my fatherland
Swept away by the whirlpool of war
Every minute ten lives
That means every hour is already six hundred!..

And so four bitter years,
Day after day - incredible score!
For our honor and freedom
He managed everything and defeated the people.

Peace came like rain, like miracles,
The bright blue soul was scorched...
On a spring evening, in the voices of birds,
The clouds lifting their sails,
My Earth is sailing like a ship.

And now I want to contact
To everyone who is young and hot,
Whoever you are: a pilot or a doctor.
Teacher, student or driller...

Yes, it's great to think about fate
Very bright, honest and beautiful.
But are we always to ourselves?
Truly strict and fair?

After all, circling between plans and ideas,
To be honest, we often
We're simply wasting our time
For dozens of little things.

On rags, on empty books,
To discord, where no one is right,
For dancing, drinking, passions,
Lord, you never know!

And it would be nice for each of us
But there is probably a soul in everyone,
Suddenly remember something very important,
The most necessary, perhaps now.

And, sweeping away everything small and empty,
Having thrown off boredom, callousness or laziness,
Suddenly remember at what cost
Our every peaceful day was bought!

And, kneading fate coolly,
To love, fight and dream,
How was the minute paid?
Every minute
Dare we forget this?!

And, walking behind the high news,
Remember that every hour
Forever looking with faith and love
Following you are those who lived in your name!

Eduard Asadov

"In the Trench"

How scary! And if you get up, it’s even worse.
Everyone except me is running, I am alone in the trench.
Shrapnel and bullets flew to the remnants of the company,
Like flies to honey. And I... I'm lying about something.

The guys are running because they are soldiers
And not because the elder scolds them with obscenities,
Fearing for some reason that there are detachments behind.
Hooray! - and that’s it! Somehow I need it too.

The wind is at their back, the dust is swirling before their eyes,
There are no enemies visible, but that’s even worse.
And the explosions moved further and a little to the right,
And it would seem possible, but I’m still lying in the trench.

The Germans are no more than two hundred meters from here,
A minute or two - and friends are already there, in place,
Where faces are mixed, bullets, bayonets, shovels...
And I’m still lying there, forgive me, guys.

A little more and we wouldn’t have retreated.
Those who were lucky returned covered in blood and dust.
Not an ounce of reproach in their eyes - they say, you, you...
They also hid them - that’s how it’s supposed to be for the dead.

Attention! The site administration is not responsible for the content methodological developments, as well as for compliance with the development of the Federal State Educational Standard.

Target: implementation of the requirements of the Model Program “From Birth to School” in educational field“Socio-communicative development”, section “Child in the family and community, patriotic education”:

• expanding children's knowledge about their native country, about public holidays;
• consolidating the idea of ​​the Victory Day holiday;
• formation of patriotic feelings in children.

Tasks: to instill in preschoolers a sense of patriotism, citizenship, respect for the defenders of the fatherland, veterans, and fallen soldiers.

Form of organization: group – themed leisure (holiday)

Progress of the event

The music hall is solemnly decorated. On the central wall is the monument “To the Victims of Fascism” (monument in Donetsk), the inscription “May 9”.

IN music hall There are children from the senior groups “Bells” and “Ezhata”, guests, and kindergarten staff.

A recording of Yu. Levitan’s voice “Message about the end of the Second World War and the proclamation of May 9 as Victory Day” sounds, after which children enter the hall to the song “Victory Day” (music by D. Tukhmanov, lyrics by V. Kharitonov) preparatory group The Nightingales change formation and line up for the ceremonial part.

Leading: Hello, dear guests and dear guys. We have gathered today to remember the feat of our people, who defeated the fascists and defended peace on earth.

Child:

Victory Day May 9 –
A holiday of peace in the country and spring.
On this day we remember the soldiers,
Those who did not return to their families from the war.

Child:

On this holiday we honor our grandfathers,
Defending their native country,
To those who gave Victory to the peoples
And who returned peace and spring to us!
(N. Tomilina)

Children perform the song “Victory Day” (music by E. Chetverikov, lyrics by T. Belozerov)

1 verse.

May holiday -
Victory Day -
The whole country celebrates.
Our grandfathers put on
Military orders.
Our grandfathers put on
Military orders!

Verse 2

The road calls them in the morning
To the ceremonial parade.
And thoughtfully from the threshold
The grandmothers look after them.
And thoughtfully from the threshold
I told them their grandmothers were watching!

Child:

Victory Day! The long-awaited holiday!
Peaceful blue skies.
Peoples and countries on Earth remember -
On this day the war ended!

Children from the preparatory group sit down.

Presenter: Let's remember how it all began. And how long it took our people to reach the long-awaited date - May 9, 1945.

Children senior group“Kapitoshki” read an excerpt from “True for Children” by S. Mikhalkov.

Child:

Summer night, at dawn,
Hitler gave the troops an order
And he sent German soldiers
Against all Soviet people -
This means - against us.

Child:

He wanted free people
Turn the hungry into slaves
To be deprived of everything forever.
And the stubborn and rebels,
Those who did not fall to their knees,
Exterminate every single one!

Child:

He ordered them to destroy
Trampled and burned
Everything that we kept together
They took better care of their eyes.

Child:

"No! - we told the fascists, -
Our people will not tolerate
So that Russian bread is fragrant
Called by the word "brot".

Child:

And when Russia stood up
In this difficult menacing hour,
“Everyone - to the front!” – Moscow said.
“We’ll give everything!” – said Kuzbass.

The children take their seats. An image of the poster “The Motherland is Calling” appears. I. Toidze.

The song “Holy War” plays (music by A. Alexandrov, lyrics by V. Lebedev - Kumach), the presenter says the words.

Presenter:

Indeed, then the cry was given:
- Get up, huge country,
Stand up for mortal combat.
With fascist dark power,
With the damned horde.
And hearing the cry of the Earth,
The soldiers of the Motherland have gone to the front.
The soldiers bravely went into battle.
For every city and for you and me!

4 boys come out military uniform, which depict the “soldier” and 2 girls who depict the “mother” and “sister”. They act out the skit “Seeing us off, we are a soldier”

1st boy:

Don't cry, little sister,
Mom don't cry
I will return victorious
To our native land.

2nd boy: We have tanks, we have machine guns!

3rd boy: We have guns and planes!

4th boy:

We will fearlessly destroy our enemies,
To free the fatherland!

Children of the senior group "Yozhata" perform a dance - the march "Farewell of the Slav".

Presenter: War is fear and horror! The war is long, the war is hungry, the war is cold, which destroyed and burned houses and entire cities, trampled flowers, killed people - adults and children. Our city, which was called Stalino during the war, was also destroyed by the Nazis. “..Yes, there is little left of Stalino. The city is now just a heap of ruins, one of the German soldiers wrote in a letter home. “As we retreat, everything is subject to destruction.” Every last house. There will be nothing left but garbage. Just a scorched, dead country, completely unsuitable for life...”

And our soldiers drove the enemy away, drove them from their hometowns and helped others liberate their homelands. There is a wonderful poem that tells us how our fellow countrymen fought.

Children of the preparatory group "Nightingales" read "Soldiers of the Mining Divisions" by N. Khaplanov.

Child 1:

From gray waste heaps, like feather grass,
From huts destroyed by shells,
Columns went into battle
Coal-darkened soldiers.

Child 2:

The path to the desired Victory is not close.
He sprinkled the whiskey with silver. -
From the mining iron divisions
Only regiments reached Berlin.

Child 3:

And the twin miners lie
From Donbass to Oder waters.
Veteran, veteran... If necessary
He will find his way through those graves.

Child 4:

To the graves of fallen comrades
He will bring a piece of coal.
And the dead will remember what it smells like
The land they protected.

Presenter: We also remember all the heroes who fought for our city. These are both commanders and privates. The names of everyone who fought and died for our region are included in the “Book of Memory”. And today we will remember only three outstanding commanders who fought for our Donbass.

Nikolai Fedorovich Vatutin – Hero Soviet Union, army general, liberator of Donetsk from the Nazis.

Kuzma Akimovich Gurov, lieutenant general, member of the Military Council of the Southern Front, liberator of Donetsk.

Franz Andreevich Grinkevich, commander of the 32nd Guards Tank Brigade. He was mortally wounded in the battles for the village of Kharkov during the Great Patriotic War.

Child:

Let's not forget those heroes
What lies in the damp ground,
Life given on the battlefield
For the people, for you and me...

Child:

Glory to our generals
Glory to our admirals
And to ordinary soldiers -

Child:

On foot, swimming, horseback,
Tired, seasoned!
Glory to the fallen and the living -
Thank you to them from the bottom of my heart!

Child:

Fought bravely and stood firm with the enemies
You are for your Fatherland.
Eternal glory and everlasting memory
To the living and those who fell in battle!

To the music from the song “Let us bow to the great those years"(music by A Pakhmutova, lyrics by N. Dobronravov) the presenter says the words

Presenter:

Let us bow to those great years,
To those glorious commanders and fighters,
And the marshals of the country, and the privates,
Let us bow to both the dead and the living,
To all those who must not be forgotten -
Let's bow, bow, friends...
The whole world, all the people, the whole earth -
Let us bow for that great battle!
Guys, let's take a moment of silence to honor the memory of all the heroes who died for peace and happiness on earth.
Stand up for a minute, children,
In memory of all those who did not come from the war.

The children get up. A minute of silence. The metronome sounds. The children take their seats.

Presenter: It was not in vain that our defenders gave their lives for victory, and victory came. Great Patriotic War ended on May 9, 1945. We won. May 9 became the national Victory Day.

1 verse.

The ninth of May - and balloons fly into the sky.
The ninth of May - smiles and flowers everywhere.
The ninth of May - both tears and joy in the eyes,
And the happiness of Victory will remain in our hearts.

Verse 2

The ninth of May - let the doves circle in the sky!
The ninth of May - we remember your feat, soldier!
The ninth of May - orders shine in the sun.
Thanks for the peace! May the country salute you!

Presenter:

Glory to veterans, glory for centuries
To everyone who saved our homeland from the enemy.
We will remember everyone who forged in the rear
Glorious victory, glorious spring.

All: Glory! Glory! Glory!

The children take their seats.

Presenter: Dear guys, I urge you, in memory of the people who kept peace on our Earth many years ago, to be kind, honest and fair. Because evil begets evil, and evil is war!

Child:

I never dream of war,
I always dream of peace.
Let the birds sing
And the flowers bloom
Let people talk about friendship
They dream more.

Child:

Let the sunbeam
It will never go out.
Let the children not know
The words "misfortune"!

Child:

May all countries be friends
And tanks and guns
Send for smelting
We need!

Child:

Let peace reign on the planet,
And let them be happy
And happy children!

Children of the preparatory group "Nightingales" perform the dance "Stork on the Roof".

Presenter: Dear children and distinguished guests, this is our holiday dedicated to the Day Great Victory has come to an end. We invite you to take part in the action " Immortal Regiment", which will be held in our city.

To the sounds of a victorious march, children leave the music hall.

Tamara Mikhailovna Druzhnikova
Summary of thematic lesson, dedicated to the Day Victory "So that there is no war"

Summary of thematic lesson, dedicated

day victory« So that there is no war»

Target: tell children at what high price people got it victory over fascism. To cultivate respect and a sense of gratitude for everyone who defended the Motherland. Promote the perception of patriotic feelings.

Material to occupation: poems "Day victory» , "True for Children" S. Mikhalkova and V. Krasyukova « So that there is no war» , illustrations giving an idea of ​​the festive fireworks, an album with photographs of the war years, a story by L. Kassil “a monument to the Soviet soldier.

Progress of the lesson.

The teacher invites the children to listen to an excerpt from. works by S. Mikhalkov "True for Children".

...On a summer night, at dawn,

When the children were sleeping peacefully,

Hitler gave the troops an order

And he sent German soldiers

Against all Soviet people -

This means - against us.

He wanted free people

Turn the hungry into slaves

To be deprived of everything forever.

And the stubborn and rebels,

Those who did not fall to their knees,

Exterminate every single one!

He ordered to be destroyed,

Trampled and burned

Everything that we kept together

They took better care of their eyes,

So that we endure need,

They didn’t dare sing our songs

Near his house,

To have everything for the Germans,

For foreign fascists,

And for Russians and others -

For peasants and workers -

"No! - we told the fascists, -

Our people will not tolerate

To Russian fragrant bread

Was called by the word "brot".

...And from sea to sea

The Bolsheviks rose up

And from sea to sea

The Russian regiments stood up.

All Soviet peoples

Against a common enemy

Everyone who loves freedom

And Russia is expensive!

The teacher leads a conversation on this work, explaining and clarifying what the author wrote. Then the teacher shows an album with photographs of the war years, telling what is shown in the photographs and answering the children’s questions.

The teacher emphasizes that "Day victory» - This is a joyful and sad holiday. On this day those who fought together meet. They remember military battles, their friends at the front, bring flowers to the monuments of soldiers who died in war. Tell us that in Belgorod we have many monuments to soldiers who died in war, and that we can also go to the monument and honor the memory of the soldiers. The teacher shows illustrations depicting festive fireworks and explains that every year on May 9th there are festive fireworks in many cities, including our city of Belgorod. The teacher summarizes everything that the children heard, emphasizes the idea that no matter where the Russian people fought during wars- at the front or in the rear - they fought for victory, for peace, for happiness. We will not forget their feat.

Reading the story by L. Cossill "Monument to the Soviet soldier".

It took a long time war.

Our troops began to advance on enemy soil. The fascists have nowhere to run anymore. They settled in the main German city of Berlin.

Our troops attacked Berlin. The final battle has begun wars.

No matter how the fascists fought back, they could not resist. The soldiers of the Soviet Army in Berlin began to take street by street, house by house. But the fascists still don’t give up. And suddenly one of our soldiers saw kind soul, during a battle on the street, a little German girl. Apparently, she has fallen behind her own people. Otherwise, out of fear, they forgot about her... The poor thing was left alone in the middle of the street. And she has nowhere to go. There is a battle going on all around. Fire is blazing from all the windows, bombs are exploding, houses are collapsing, bullets are whistling from all sides. He’s about to crush him with a stone, kill him with a shrapnel... Our soldier sees that the girl is missing... “Oh, you bastard, where has this taken you, you’re not doing well.”

The soldier rushed across the street right under the bullets, picked up the German girl in his arms, shielded her from the fire with his shoulder and carried her out of the battle.

And soon our soldiers had already raised the red flag over the most important house in the German capital.

The Nazis surrendered. AND the war is over. We won. The world has begun.

And now they have built a huge monument in the city of Berlin. High above the houses on a green hill stands a hero made of stone - a soldier of the Soviet Army. In one hand he has a heavy sword, with which he defeated his enemies - the Nazis, and in the other - a little girl. She pressed herself against broad shoulder Soviet soldier. The soldier saved her from death, saved all the children in the world from the Nazis, and today he looks menacingly from above to see if the evil enemies are going to start again war and break the peace.

Conversation on the read work.

Class ends with children reading poems by S. Mikhalkov "Day victory» and V. Krasyukova « So that there is no war» which they learn in advance.

DAY VICTORIES

One day the children went to bed -

The windows are all darkened

And we woke up at dawn -

There is light in the windows, and no wars!

You don't have to say goodbye anymore

And don’t accompany me to the front,

And don’t be afraid of raids,

And don't wait for night worries.

People celebrate Victory!

The news flies everywhere:

From the front they go, they go, they go

Our children and fathers!

Hello warrior winner,

My comrade, friend and brother,

My protector, my savior -

Red Army soldiers!

SO THAT THERE IS NO WAR

Our great-grandparents

They defended us victory,

And now we all want

So that there is no war!

We want, so that the birds sing,

So that in the spring the streams rang,

So that the sun warms the earth,

So that the birch tree turns green.

So that everyone's dreams came true,

To make people all laugh,

So that children have dreams,

So that there is no war!

After classes children with a teacher go to the monument to N.F. Vatutin, who liberated our city from German invaders, and lay flowers at the foot of the monument.

Publications on the topic:

Summary of the lesson dedicated to May 9 “We don’t want war!” Goal: To intensify efforts to familiarize older children preschool age with the history and feat of the people in the Great Patriotic War;.

The guys from the group "Fidgets" were preparing for the anniversary of the Victory. We learned poems and songs about the war. The children, together with their teacher, designed a newspaper.

Information for parents. Prevention of safe behavior in case of fire “So that there is no fire, so that there is no trouble” PREVENTION OF SAFE BEHAVIOR IN CASE OF FIRE INFORMATION FOR PARENTS: “So that there is no fire, so that there is no trouble” Now in our time.

Summary of a thematic lesson dedicated to Victory Day Target. Foster a feeling of love for the Motherland. Objectives: 1. teach the rules of good relationships. 2. cultivate respect for WWII veterans. 3.

Literary and musical composition “So that there is no war” in the 2nd junior group Purpose:celebration of leisure time dedicated to Victory Day in the 2nd younger group. 1 child I’ll sit on my grandfather’s lap and whisper quietly, Tell me, darling.