Piskaryovskoye Memorial Cemetery

Piskaryovskoye Memorial Cemetery

Katie Cook

Today was our first sight of rain in St. Petersburg. It was metaphoric in a way, we are always taught in school that rain brings about change, and in this case, I believe it brings a rebirth. The sweltering heat of days previous would not have been appropriate for the solemn scenery of the memorial. I like to think the sun represented the unbearable suffering that burned in St. Petersburg during the siege of Leningrad, but the rain, it brought a calmness and peace to the land. The sky was grey, but the grass was a fresh, lush green that starkly contrasted its surroundings. The dew gave a lovely sheen to the grass and trees — it felt as if it was an early morning sunrise, rather than the afternoon.

Over the course of WWII, no country suffered as much loss as the Soviet Union. They lost 11 million soldiers, and as least as many civilians, though these numbers range anywhere from 7 million civilian casualties to 20 million. The siege of Leningrad was the most brutal battle of the war, lasting nearly 900 days and claimed over a million civilian lives. With this in mind, the monument stands as a huge testament to the bravery and perseverance of not only Soviet soldiers, but people as well.

As you approach the memorial, the motherland welcomes you with open arms, as if she was asking you to pass over her children, to lay flowers and give thanks. This place was more than a place of remembrance, but one of self-reflection as well. I walked through the path of trees and felt an overwhelming sadness, but soon it gave way to such an overwhelming sense of happiness that I began to cry; in this moment I understood the phrase, “joy with tears.” I was happy because I felt such peace in this place. Everything was still, and I had the impression of a relieving sigh hanging overhead like a breath of fresh air and the beauty of spring. The air smelled sweet and the trees laced within each other creating the perfect path of solitude. Indeed, I thought anyone could be at peace here, simultaneously feeling connected to both one’s self and others that they had never even known. I had no conception of nationality or the decades that separated me from those buried here; simply that all humans are the same in that they understand the precious gift of life and the desire to hold on to it.

The only disturbance to the silence was the sound of birds. People strolled this way and that, but no one dared to speak, as if it was an insult to the memory of others. Though, what words could be said? In such grave contemplation, no words would do justice, only poetry seems profound enough, because it is like a song and only music can portray the indescribable and unspeakable. I thought of Anna Akhmatova’s poem about the war:

Nikto nam ne khotel pomoch’
Za to, chto my ostalis’ doma,
Za to, chto, gorod svoi liubia,
A ne krylatuiu svododu,
My sokhranili dlia sebia
Ego dvortsy, ogon’ i vodu.

(No one wanted to help us
Because we stayed home,
Because, loving our city
And not winged freedom,
We preserved for ourselves
Its palaces, its fire and water.)

These people had hopes and dreams all rooted within this city. They dared not abandon it because the thought that it could be taken away and destroyed in an instant was inconceivable. It is a truly humbling experience, realizing how easily it could have been you lying beneath this grass. You, or your mother, or your father, or your sisters, or your brothers, or your dearest friend. My chest was tight as I thought of the love I held for my family and how that was stripped away for so many lying right beneath my feet. Who am I to be able to walk here, to reap the benefits of their perseverance and strength? A strength I myself don’t think I could have kept in their same circumstance. To think one man’s selfish war could have destroyed the love of so many is despicable to say the least, but as I said before, what words can even be used to portray such deep feelings of sorrow and humility?

If you ever find yourself in St. Petersburg, I beg you take the trek to this memorial. Though it may seem a grim thought, you will realize the depth of emotion goes so much farther than that. It is more than a memory of people you didn’t know, but a reminder of how lucky we are to live such privileged lives. Truly, I am humbled and I hope one day I can stroll those peaceful paths again with the people I love.

Sources:

http://www.eisenhowerinstitute.org/about/living_history/wwii_soviet_experience.dot

https://www.history.com/topics/world-war-ii/siege-of-leningrad