Fomin E. M. Efim Moiseevich Fomin
Jewish eyes, Soviet upbringing... Commissar Fomin... His favorite song was the song from the film "Children of Captain Grant" And when his heart was heavy, he sang "Captain, Captain, smile..."... A black-haired young man with a slightly sad look - this is how we see Regimental Commissar Fomin in the photo. He took over the leadership of the defense Brest Fortress, and defended her to the last ... He was only 32, and the soldiers considered him their father ... But there were always traitors ...
The son of a blacksmith and a seamstress from the small Belarusian town of Pegs near Vitebsk, he grew up as an orphan. He left his relatives who sheltered him after the death of his parents and went to an orphanage. So, classic story growing up of a Soviet boy of that time ... Work at a shoe factory in Vitebsk, moving to Pskov, promotion along the Komsomol line. And then Efim Fomin became the commander of the Red Army.
By the beginning of the war, he was already married and had a young son, Yura. On June 21, Fomin was going to Latvia to move his family to his place in Brest. I did not have time… Fortunately for his wife and son, who managed to evacuate from Latvia.
And Fomin had to become a combat commissar on June 22. He was not the classic fearless hero. And people who knew him did not notice anything outstanding and fighting in his face. But he was a man who knew how to take responsibility for his actions. And yet, his soldiers were dear to him ...
Efim Fomin is described in an essay on the history of the Brest Fortress:
“He was only thirty-two years old, and he still expected a lot from life. He had a family dear to his heart, a son whom he loved very much, and anxiety for the fate of those close to him always relentlessly lived in his memory next to all the worries, sorrows and dangers that fell heavily on his shoulders from the first day of the defense of the fortress.
Shortly after the shelling began, Fomin, together with Matevosyan, ran down the stairs to the basement under the headquarters of the regiment, where by that time hundreds and a half fighters from headquarters and economic units had already gathered. He barely had time to jump out of the office, where the incendiary shell had hit, and came downstairs half-dressed, as the war found him in bed, carrying his uniform under his arm. Here, in the basement, there were many of the same half-dressed people, and Fomin's arrival went unnoticed. He was as pale as the others, and he listened just as apprehensively to the rumble of nearby explosions shaking the cellar. He was clearly confused, like everyone else, and in an undertone asked Matevosyan if he didn’t think that it was ammunition depots that were being torn up, set on fire by saboteurs. He seemed to be afraid to utter the last fatal word - “war”.
Then he got dressed. And as soon as he was wearing a commissar's tunic with four sleepers on the buttonholes and he tightened his waist belt with a habitual movement, everyone recognized him. A movement passed through the basement, and dozens of pairs of eyes turned to him at once. He read in those eyes a silent question, an ardent desire to obey and an irresistible desire for action. People saw in him a representative of the party, a commissar, a commander, they believed that only he now knew what to do. Let him be the same inexperienced, unfired warrior as they are, the same mortal man who suddenly found himself in the midst of the raging menacing elements of war! Those questioning, demanding eyes immediately reminded him that he was not just a man and not only a warrior, but also a commissar. And with this consciousness, the last traces of confusion and indecision disappeared from his face, and in his usual calm, even voice, the commissar gave his first orders.
From that moment to the end, Fomin never forgot that he was a commissar. If tears of impotent anger, despair and pity for perishing comrades appeared before his eyes, then it was only in the darkness of the night, when no one could see his face. People invariably saw him as stern, but calm and deeply confident in the successful outcome of this difficult struggle. Only once, in a conversation with Matevosyan, in a moment of brief lull, did Fomin burst out with something that he hid from everyone in the very depths of his soul.
“Still, it’s easier for a lonely person to die,” he said quietly to the Komsomol organizer with a sigh. “It is easier when you know that your death will not be a disaster for others.
He did not say anything more, and Matevosyan remained silent in response, understanding what the commissar was thinking.
He was a commissar in the highest sense of the word, showing in everything an example of courage, selflessness and modesty. Soon he had to put on the tunic of a simple fighter: the Nazi snipers and saboteurs hunted primarily for our commanders, and the entire command staff was ordered to change clothes. But even in this tunic, everyone knew Fomin - he appeared in the most dangerous bridges and sometimes he himself led people into attacks. He almost did not sleep, was languishing from hunger and thirst, like his fighters, but when he managed to get water and food, he received the last, strictly making sure that he did not try to give him any preference over others.
Several times the scouts, who searched the dead Nazis, brought biscuits or buns found in German knapsacks to Fomin. He sent it all to the cellars - to children and women, leaving not a crumb for himself. Once, thirsty fighters dug in the basement where the wounded were, a small hole-well, which gave about a glass of water per hour. The first portion of this water - muddy and dirty - the paramedic Milkevich brought upstairs to the commissar, offering him a drink.
It was a hot day, and for the second day there was not a drop of moisture in Fomin's mouth. His dry lips were cracked and he was breathing heavily. But when Milkevich handed him a glass, the commissar raised his red eyes, inflamed with insomnia, sternly.
- Take it to the wounded! he said hoarsely, and it was said in such a way that Milkevich did not dare to object.
Already at the end of the defense, Fomin was wounded in the hand by a German grenade thrown through the window. He went down to the basement for dressing. But when the orderly, around whom several wounded soldiers crowded, saw the commissar and rushed to him, Fomin stopped him.
“Them first!” he ordered curtly. And, sitting on a box in the corner, he waited for his turn to come.
For a long time the fate of Fomin remained unknown. The most contradictory rumors circulated about him. Some said that the commissar was killed during the fighting in the fortress, others heard that he was captured. One way or another, no one saw with their own eyes either his death or his capture, and all these versions had to be taken into question.
The fate of Fomin became clear only after they managed to find a former sergeant of the 84th in the Belsky district of the Kalinin region rifle regiment and now director high school, Alexander Sergeevich Rebzuev.
On June 29 and 30, Sergeant Rebzuev found himself, together with the regimental commissar, in one of the premises of the barracks, when the Nazi saboteurs blew up this part of the building with explosives. The fighters and commanders who were here, for the most part, were destroyed by this explosion, covered up and crushed by the rubble of the walls, and those who were still alive were pulled half-dead from under the ruins and taken prisoner. Among them were Commissar Fomin and Sergeant Rebzuev.
The prisoners were brought to their senses and, under a strong escort, were driven to the Kholmsky Gate. There they were met by a Hitlerite officer, who spoke good Russian, who ordered machine gunners to thoroughly search each of them.
All the documents of the Soviet commanders were destroyed long ago by order of Fomin. The commissar himself was dressed in a simple soldier's quilt and a tunic without insignia. Emaciated, overgrown with a beard, in tattered clothes, he was no different from other prisoners, and the soldiers hoped that they would be able to hide from the enemies who this man was and save the life of their commissar.
But among the captives there was a traitor who had not previously defected to the enemy, apparently only because he was afraid to get a bullet in the back from Soviet soldiers. Now his hour has come, and he decided to curry favor with the Nazis.
Smiling flatteringly, he stepped out of the line of prisoners and turned to the officer.
“Mr. officer, this man is not a soldier,” he said ingratiatingly, pointing to Fomin. “This is the commissar, the big commissar. He ordered us to fight to the end and not to surrender.
The officer gave a short order, and the submachine gunners pushed Fomin out of the line. The smile slipped from the face of the traitor - the inflamed, sunken eyes of the prisoners looked at him with mute menace. One of German soldiers nudged him with the butt, and, immediately taking a back seat, the traitor again stood in line.
Several machine gunners, on the orders of the officer, surrounded the commissar in a ring and led him through the Kholmsky Gate to the bank of the Mukhavets. A minute later, bursts of machine guns came from there.
At that time, not far from the gate on the banks of the Mukhavets, there was another group of prisoners - Soviet soldiers. Among them were soldiers of the 84th regiment, who immediately recognized their commissar. They saw how the submachine gunners placed Fomin near the fortress wall, how the commissar raised his hand, shouted something, but his voice was immediately muffled by the shots.
The rest of the prisoners were taken out of the fortress half an hour later under escort. Already at dusk they were driven to a small stone shed on the banks of the Bug and locked up there for the night. And when the next morning the guards opened the doors and the command was given to leave, the German guards missed one of the prisoners.
In a dark corner of the shed, on the straw, lay the corpse of a man who had betrayed Commissar Fomin the day before. He lay with his head thrown back, terribly bulging eyes, and blue fingerprints were clearly visible on his throat. This was retribution for betrayal.
The organizer and leader of the legendary defense of the Brest Fortress was only thirty-two ... And he was scared, like everyone else. But he couldn’t have done otherwise… And I was glad to know that the traitor got what he deserved right away… Although you won’t return this big and bright man with a slightly sad smile, who supported himself with the song “Captain, captain, smile…”
Efim Moiseevich Fomin posthumously awarded the order Lenin. BUT main award received by his son Yuri Fomin
resident of Kiev, candidate historical sciences after learning the details of his father's death:
In 1951, as a student, I went to Brest with the hope of learning something about my father. At the military registration and enlistment office they showed me the district newspaper “For the Glory of the Motherland” with materials about the remains of 34 Soviet soldiers found in the ruins of the fortress, their weapons and things. A partially preserved order on the fortress dated June 24, 1941 was found in the commander's bag, where regimental commissar Fomin was named among the leaders of the defense.
From the editorial office of the named newspaper, I was informed of the address of one of the defenders of the Brest Fortress, the former clerk of the headquarters of the 84th Infantry Regiment A.M. Phil, who lived in Yakutia. I sent him a letter and in January 1952 received a reply. A.M. Fil said that he fought in the fortress under the command of Commissar Fomin, he knows that the shell-shocked commissar with several fighters was captured by the Nazis and executed.
No. 70. Letter from an ordinary clerk of the headquarters of the 84th brigade Alexander Mitrofanovich Fil to Yuri Efimovich Fomin - the son of Efim Moiseevich Fomin.
Tov. Fomin Yu.E.
If you are the son of Efim Moiseevich Fomin, I ask you to stand up before reading my letter. May the image of an honest warrior, a courageous defender of the Russian land, a hero Patriotic War with the black forces of the enemy, the fearless leader of the heroic defense of the Brest-Litovsk fortress in June 1941 ....
I know Regimental Commissar Efim Moiseevich Fomin from his service in the 84th joint venture, 6th class. When he arrived to us, I was already serving at the headquarters of the unit. Below average height, dense, freshly shaven, ruddy, from the first days, with his attention to every little thing, to the most insignificant flaw, his responsiveness and simplicity, he acquired the good name of the Red Army milieu - "father". To his help, without timidity in the heart, resorted to all members of a large team. Efim Moiseevich was always among the fighters. I do not remember such a day or evening when he did not visit the units in free time from occupation. I do not remember such a case when the commissioner did not satisfy the request of the applicant. Severity and kindness, exactingness and practical help - were his daily routine for educating the personnel of the unit. Until late (before lights out), Commissar Fomin - "father" - moved from the location of his unit to another, talked on various topics of his personal life, military, was interested in the requests, desires of the soldiers, told stories of past campaigns of the Red Army, explained the policy of enemies, called for study, vigilance and loyalty to the oath. Sometimes, in a close circle of the assembled fighters, he conducted conversations, as they say, "heartfelt" on various intimate topics, amused and joked. Very often he was at the location of staff workers who lived on the same floor with him, along the same corridor with him. When, in conversations about relatives, staff officers (including myself) recalled children and wives, Commissar Fomin (as I remember now), sitting on his bunk, lowered his eyes, but immediately, smiling, supported the conversation with a story about his family, which was in the Latvian SSR. If you are his son, then he talked a lot about you. Then he talked about his funny, good son, whom he loved very much.
Before last day before the war, he lived in the fortress, in his office, on the second floor. If you were there, in the fortress, you should remember...
21. VI.41, by order of the command of the Zap. OVO units 6 and 42 sd were withdrawn to the training ground for exercises at dawn on June 22, 1941 in selective strength. The commander of the unit, Major Dorodnykh, left the fortress with battalions at 22.30. Commissioner Fomin E.M. went to the station for a family trip. In connection with the departure for the teachings of the head. office work tech. int. 2nd rank Nevzorova P., I remained on the orders of the command to fulfill the position of head. office work. That evening, quiet and warm, the films “4th Periscope”, “Circus”, “Ruslan and Lyudmila”, etc. were shown in the fortress. In the building of the garrison club (near the ruins of the White Palace of the Polish Periscope”, before the start of the session, Commissar Fomin had a short conversation about the content of the film, pointing out the vile machinations of the enemies of the socialist Motherland, after which, surrounded by fighters, he stood near the club, as if continuing the conversation that had begun in front of the audience. Leaving the club, the commissioner said goodbye to the fighters, saying that he would have continued the conversation, but his official duty required him to leave for a short time. Peace and happiness emanated on this wonderful evening. The fortress rested.
At about 1:00 a.m., Commissar Fomin returned from the station. This was already the beginning of the fateful 22 June 1941. The composition of the staff workers had not yet slept, and he came in to find out why this was so. We were doing who. That evening I wrote a letter home and didn’t finish it, left it until the morning, many read books. When we asked why they didn’t leave, Commissioner Fomin replied: “A little oddity, even a surprise, the tickets are all sold out.” Then he joked a bit and went to bed. We also went to bed.
At dawn at 4.00 the first exploding shell hit a small house opposite the hospital gates, and then ... the war began.
AT difficult moments battles, at the climax of attacks, your father always found words for the Russian heart, Soviet soldier. As a son, I want to tell you a little more than the usual story. Your father was very fond of human simple life. He was very fond of the fighters, our Soviet ones, and from the bottom of his heart, with all the fibers of his soul, despised the enemies and alarmists. He terribly hated the Fritz and the Hans. When he was informed about the fallen fighters, tears flowed from his courageous eyes. Many times, using all kinds of tactical cunning, he organized a breakthrough and exit from the fortress under his leadership, but ... it was impossible. Our small group, almost unarmed, was surrounded by units (as I learned from correspondence in 1950) of the 12th Army. enemy corps.
28.6.41 was the most decisive day and the most terrible day of the war. The Germans threw everything they could throw at the fortress. On this day, we were at the same entrance, in the same building, where we wrote the first order. I was wounded and was on the defensive at one of the windows of the building. The explosion collapsed the ceiling of the building and I was crushed by a collapse, when I began to remember myself, I was already surrounded by Germans among other fighting friends of the fortress. Your father, regimental commissar E. M. Fomin, was then still with Captain Zubachev in another section of the building. According to eyewitnesses, Commissar Fomin was unconscious when the Germans broke into the building we occupied. On this day, a fate befell that for the rest of the life of the survivors lay a black seal or deprived of life.
Your father, regimental commissar Efim Moiseevich Fomin, was the first organizer of the defense of the fortress and until the last minutes of the struggle he himself believed and inspired the fighters with the victory of Soviet weapons over fascism. In the last minutes of the battle, he was in a simple Red Army sweatshirt, in a tunic with insignia and with a TT pistol, when he ran along the line of defense past me and other comrades, inspiring me to fight to the death. His face was already pale. At that moment I saw him for the last time, then what I wrote about above followed (he was stunned and shell-shocked by the explosion, but soon came to mind).
The custom of fascist monsters to take off their hats and sort by hair cut in one direction, and with hair in the other. From subsequent stories in the camp, it was definitely established that the regimental father was Fomin E.M. was shot by the Nazis at the first fort on the way across the wooden bridge from the fortress to the mountains. Tiraspol. There was a sort of collection point”, and the vile part, the smallest of the “Westerners” who passed the 45-day gathering, who still 22. VI threw white sheets out the windows, but were partly destroyed, from the stories of eyewitnesses, pointed to your father and his rank. I can't remember exactly, but maybe it will help you...
Eternal and bright memory will be this place, watered with pure blood of the faithful son of the party and the Soviet people.
In order to give you a little idea of how courageous your father was, I will say a few words of secondary importance. From June 21 in the evening until the last day of the defense, the fighters brought down one "press" (as we said then) of raw green peas. Your father also got a portion, but he gave it to the wounded. Scouts also brought other “gifts” to Efim Moiseevich (bread, buns), although it was in grams, but he never ate it, but gave it away with the words: “You are our strength, comrade soldiers, without you I cannot defend the fortress, so share it yourself and eat, there will definitely come a day when we will gather at a large round table, eat and drink. We didn't even have water; they drank what a comrade would release. It was.
Once again, I apologize for the little and poorly written. You must understand me that the memories of what I experienced very ... excites me, and, despite the past 10 years, everything rises before my eyes, exciting, terrible.
19.VII.52
Essay on the regimental commissar Efim Fomin, who led the defense of the Brest Fortress. The feat of the defenders. Gennady Lyubashevsky.
“I am dying, but I do not give up. Farewell, Motherland! 20.VII.41"
(The inscription on the wall of the barracks of the 132nd battalion
convoy troops of the NKVD in the Brest Fortress)
That day I woke up very early. A vague anxiety crept into my soul, made me get out of bed and go to the open window. There was that special stillness that happens before a nascent summer morning. The city, spreading the arms of the avenues, was sound asleep. The clock outside the wall chimed four times. The low lingering sound of the last blow gradually subsided, dissolved in the air, and the feeling of anxiety did not pass. Lord, it's now four o'clock, today is June 22... 70 years ago, at this very time, according to the fate of people, like a machine-gun fire, a time line passed, dividing life into "before the war" and "after the war." And I almost physically felt next to me the person I want to tell you about in this story.
I felt his shoulder in an officer's jacket touch my shoulder, heard him breathing heavily, peering out the window. We were separated by 70 years, and we saw completely different pictures outside the window: I am a peacefully sleeping city, and he is the silhouettes of German aircraft, explosions of bombs and shells. I enjoyed the silence, and he heard the screams and groans of the wounded, the crackle of automatic bursts, grenade explosions. Another moment and my vision was gone. The man tore himself away from the window and, fastening his collar as he went, stepped into the doorway. Thirty-two-year-old regimental commissar Efim Moiseevich Fomin died on June 22, 1941 - he will lead the heroic garrison defending the Brest Fortress.
He will never know about the bitterness of our retreat, or about the battle near Moscow, or about Kursk Bulge, nor about Stalingrad. He will not see the ruins of defeated Berlin and bright as a drop of blood, the red flag of the Banner of Victory over the Reichstag. And he will not have a chance to stand in the parade columns of victorious warriors on Red Square. Although ... who knows - maybe that's why Marshal Zhukov's horse stumbled because on the right flank of these parade columns stood a column of those known and unknown to the human eye, invisible to the human eye, who could not stand up alive ... Let's bow to them again once and remember the words of A. Tvardovsky:
“And the dead, the voiceless have one consolation:
We have fallen for the Motherland, but it has been saved.”
The Brest Fortress... A lot of books have been written about the feat of its defenders and several films have been shot. Alas, the further the events of those heroic days go from us, the more conjectures, and even outright untruths about the events of the first days of the war, appear on the pages and on movie screens. I will not argue with those who had the conscience to distort history, but I will do as I did in my time when writing the story “For posterity as an example” about the Hero Soviet Union Izrail Fisanovich, a North Sea submariner: I will give excerpts from a letter to me from a person whom we can trust - the son of Efim Fomin. I managed to find Yuri Efimovich, he turned out to be our fellow countryman, lives and works in Kyiv. Yuriy Fomin - Candidate of Historical Sciences, Honored Lawyer of Ukraine. We talked with him on the phone more than once, the commissar's son sent his story about his father. Let's read his son's memoirs together.
“The bright image of my father, regimental commissar E. M. Fomin, lives in my memory. He was one of the organizers and leaders of the heroic defense of the Brest Fortress and died heroically at the very beginning of the Great Patriotic War in July 1941.
Then I was 11 years old, and my memories of my father, of course, are connected with childhood. Like all boys of my age, I loved to play “war” and was very proud that my father was a military man. When we lived in Kharkov, I remember he carved for me a wooden saber with a beautiful hilt. True, it soon broke down, and I wept bitterly, and my father, consoling, promised me to make a new one and kept his word. Returning from business trips, he brought gifts, interesting books, trying to instill in me a love of reading.
I saw little of my father at home, especially in the troubled pre-war years, when we lived in the Latvian city of Daugavpils. He left for work at dawn and returned late in the evening, when I was already asleep. But, despite being very busy, my father was interested in my studies at school and found time to talk with teachers.
I remember the accuracy and exactingness of my father to himself. He was always trim, well-dressed and shaved. At the same time, the father was not a dry, callous pedant. He was distinguished by his love of life. On occasion, he joked and laughed, was fond of playing chess, which he called "combat training", rejoiced at a new book, a movie, a good song.
Many of my father's colleagues noted his sincere attention to people, and my mother, Augustina Gerasimovna, and I knew that at any time a Red Army soldier, commander or political worker could turn to him with a request or for advice. Once in Daugavpils, he learned that one fighter, originally from the Caucasus, was very worried: his mother fell ill. Thanks to the help of his father, the guy was granted leave. Father always sought to encourage a person, if necessary, help him in word or deed.
In March 1941, my father received a new assignment - to the western border, to the city of Brest. My mother and I stayed temporarily to live in Daugavpils. From his father's letters, it was known that he had a lot of work at his new duty station: he sought to bring his regiment to the forefront. Without an apartment, my father lived at the location of the regiment in the Brest Fortress, in a service room, where there was a table for work and a bunk. Father promised to come and take us to Brest as soon as possible.
Last telephone conversation with him took place in the early morning of June 19, 1941. Mom said that some military families were leaving Daugavpils, she asked what we should do. The father replied: “Do as everyone else ...” Three days later, the war began ...
There was no news about the fate of the father for a long time. Only in 1942 did a notice come that he had been missing since September 1941.
In 1951, already a student Kyiv University, I went to Brest with the hope of finding out something about my father. At the military registration and enlistment office they showed me the district newspaper “For the Glory of the Motherland” with materials about the remains of 34 Soviet soldiers found in the ruins of the fortress, their weapons and things. A partially preserved Order No. 1 on the fortress dated June 24, 1941 was found in the commander's bag, where regimental commissar Fomin was named among the leaders of the defense.
From the editorial office of the named newspaper, I was given the address of one of the defenders of the Brest Fortress, the former clerk of the headquarters of the 84th Infantry Regiment, A. M. Fil, who lived in Yakutia. I sent him a letter and in January 1952 received a reply. A. M. Fil said that he fought in the fortress under the command of Commissar Fomin, he knows that the shell-shocked commissar with several fighters was captured by the Nazis and executed.
After that, I turned to the USSR Ministry of Defense and other authorities with a request to take measures to establish the fate of the defenders of the Brest Fortress in the summer of 1941, in particular, my father. However, I was told that the military district does not have the opportunity to conduct excavations in the Brest Fortress. However, I continued searching.
As you know, a remarkable front-line writer, laureate of the Lenin Prize Sergei Sergeyevich Smirnov did a lot to study the defense of the Brest Fortress. We first saw him in July 1956 in Moscow at a meeting of the defenders of the Brest Fortress, dedicated to the 15th anniversary of its heroic defense. The writer gave me his book “Fortress on the Border” with the inscription: “To the son of the hero and head of the defense of the fortress, Yuri Fomin, in memory of our meeting and with deep respect for the memory of the father-hero. S. S. Smirnov”.
Then I got acquainted with the participants of the Brest defense who came to Moscow. They said that from the first minutes of the battle, the regimental commissar E. M. Fomin became the organizer of the defense, showed exceptional courage, bravery, by personal example leading the soldiers to fight the enemy.
The heroic deed of the commissioner, of course, was not accidental. Its origins are associated with way of life father, unfortunately, short, but illuminated by loyalty to the ideas of freedom and social justice, devotion to the Soviet Fatherland. This is confirmed by the compressed facts of his biography.
Efim Moiseevich Fomin was born on January 15, 1909 in the town of Kolyshki, Liozno District, Vitebsk Region, into a Jewish working-class family. His parents - a blacksmith father, a seamstress mother - died early, and he was brought up first by his aunt, then by his uncle. Started at the age of 12 labor activity apprentice, or rather, a servant of a handicraft hairdresser in the city of Vitebsk, then was an apprentice shoemaker. He was brought up in an orphanage, worked at the Vitebsk shoe factory, where in 1924 he was admitted to the Komsomol.
In 1927 Yefim moved to Pskov to his older brother Boris. Here he entered the district soviet school. During his studies, he was accepted into the ranks of the Communist Party. After graduating from the Soviet party school, my father worked in trade union and party bodies, studied in absentia at the Leningrad Communist University.
By party mobilization in March 1932, my father became a career political worker in the Red Army. He served first in Pskov, then in Feodosia and Simferopol as secretary of the Komsomol organization of the anti-aircraft regiment, political instructor of the company, instructor of the political department rifle division, commissar of the infantry regiment.
In August 1938 he was appointed military commissar of the 23rd Kharkov Order of Lenin Red Banner Rifle Division. Together with this division in 1939 he took part in the liberation of Western Ukraine. For success in service, he was twice promoted ahead of schedule military rank, in 1939 he was awarded the rank of regimental commissar, corresponding to the rank of colonel.
Arriving in April 1941 at a new duty station in Brest, E. M. Fomin managed to win the trust and love of soldiers and commanders in a short time. His fellow soldier A. M. Fil later recalled this: “From the first days, with his attention, his responsiveness and simplicity, he acquired the good name “father” in the Red Army environment. All members of the large team resorted to his help without timidity in their hearts. Severity and kindness, exactingness and practical assistance were the main methods of his work in the education of personnel.
At dawn on June 22, with the first explosions of enemy shells in the Brest Fortress, Commissar Fomin found himself at the center of events. Due to the lack of commanders, he took command of the units of the 84th Infantry Regiment of the 6th Infantry Division, which were in the barracks, and ordered the soldiers to take up defense in the Kholmsky Gates of the citadel. An attempt by the Nazis to break through these gates was repulsed. After that, he organized a counterattack against a German detachment that broke through the neighboring Terespol Gates in the center of the fortress. As a result, this detachment was defeated and driven back. The first success inspired the defenders of the citadel.
In order for the soldiers to see in their ranks another senior commander, he ordered the Komsomol organizer of the regiment S. M. Matevosyan to put on his spare tunic with the insignia of the regimental commissar. On his orders, the Komsomol organizer tried to break out of the fortress on an armored car in order to contact the command Soviet troops, but unsuccessfully. The Nazis blocked all exits from the fortress.
Commissar Fomin participated in battles with the Nazis, often leading bayonet attacks himself, leading the fighters by personal example. At the same time, he understood that disunited groups from different military units they would not be able to resist the superior forces of the Nazis for a long time, so he sought to unite all the defenders of the fortress.
On June 24, 1941, on his initiative and with his active participation, during a break between battles in one of the casemates, the commanders of individual groups that fought in the citadel gathered for a meeting. They resolved the issue of uniting into a consolidated group and creating a single command and defense headquarters.
The moral qualities of Efim Moiseevich are also evidenced by the fact that he, being the most senior in rank among all officers, granted the right to command the garrison to a regular military man with combat experience. A communist was appointed commander, a participant civil war, captain Zubachev, and regimental commissar Fomin became his deputy.
Together with Captain Zubachev, my father led the military operations of an organized breakthrough from the encirclement, but they were unsuccessful - the enemy's advantage was too great. The forces of the defenders of the fortress, who received no help from anywhere, were melting, and their situation became more and more difficult.
The Nazis blocked all approaches to the Mukhavets River, which washes the fortress. As a result of this, the defenders of the fortress (and many of them were wounded) suffered severely from thirst. There was no water, food, medicines, ammunition ran out. However, the heroes held out to the last bullet, to the last drop of blood.
According to the surviving defenders of the fortress, Commissar Fomin showed will and restraint in incredibly difficult conditions. No wonder they called him the soul of defense. When one of the fighters said that he would keep the last cartridge for himself, the father objected: “We can die in hand-to-hand combat, and we will shoot the cartridges at the Nazis.” He convinced those who lost heart that aimless death, suicide is cowardice, life must be devoted entirely to the fight against a fierce enemy.
Along with all the defenders of the fortress, Commissar Fomin suffered from thirst and hunger, but did not allow himself to be given any preference. Paramedic S.E. Milkevich once brought the commissar some muddy water, which was collected with difficulty in a hole dug under the floor. Father had been thirsty for several days, but he said: “Water is only for the wounded.” When he was wounded in the arm, he went down to the cellar, where several wounded men were waiting to be bandaged. The paramedic rushed to him, but the father said: “First them,” and began to wait for his turn. The scouts brought bread and biscuits found from the dead Nazis to the commissar, and he gave food to the wounded, women and children who were in the cellars.
In rare breaks between battles, Yefim Moiseevich sought to cheer up the fighters with a heartfelt word, instilled in them faith in our victory over the enemy, and urged them to fulfill their military duty to the end.
When the Nazis seized a group of wounded, hungry, exhausted fighters from many days of heavy fighting, among whom was the wounded commissar Fomin, the traitor betrayed him to the Nazis. According to eyewitnesses, the Germans shot the commissar near the fortress wall. Before his death, he managed to shout to the soldiers: “Do not lose heart, victory will be ours!”
What can be added to these sincere filial memories? Yuri Efimovich writes very sparingly about the details of his father's death, and I understand why. He is a historian and used to trust proven facts. For him, his father still remains alive, the way he was remembered in those “forties fatal”. The father to this day is an example for the son.
We also cannot describe with documentary accuracy what happened in the fortress in those terrible days. Built according to all the rules of fortification art, it was able to survive a long siege, if only ... If its defenders had enough weapons, ammunition, food, water, medicines, if in the heat of retreat they were simply not abandoned to their fate. And how not to remember the words of the writer Boris Vasiliev: “The fortress did not fall. She bled out."
The Germans could not immediately take powerful fortifications, they could not break the resistance of the garrison. Then they began a methodical siege. Endless bombardments, shelling from giant 600-mm mortars specially delivered to Brest, the use of flamethrowers and poison gases did their job. The ranks of the defenders were melting. In the end, the Nazis began to drop super-heavy bombs of half a ton on the fortress, from the explosions of which the earth trembled and the walls of the casemates collapsed. And, on top of this nightmare, a monster bomb weighing almost two tons was dropped on the fortress on June 29th. A terrible blow, like an earthquake, shook not only the fortress, but the whole city. Many fortifications were destroyed, some people died under the rubble, some were wounded or shell-shocked, covered with earth and wall fragments and could no longer physically resist the enemy.
Apparently, Fomin was among these wounded and shell-shocked defenders. According to the recollections of other miraculously surviving defenders of the fortress, its commissar was still alive on July 15, after 24 days of stubborn defense. Maybe the strength of the spirit of this man, his influence on those around him were so great that people did not want to believe in his death and continued to consider him alive? .. We will never know this. One thing is known for certain: Efim Moiseevich Fomin died a heroic death, but remained forever in the memory of our people.
Writer S. S. Smirnov, who revealed many circumstances of the heroic defense and resurrected names from oblivion heroic defenders Brest Fortress, petitioned for the award of the title of Hero of the Soviet Union to Commissar Fomin. However, the Ministry of Defense of the USSR presented him for awarding only ... the Order of the Patriotic War. Remember my story "Commissar", about the feat of the commissioner of the icebreaker "Sibiryakov" - the Soviet "Varyag"). The commissioner of "Sibiryakov" Elimelakh was also awarded posthumously ... only the Order of the Patriotic War. Alas, the Motherland, generously showering some with the highest awards, was clearly stingy with respect to others, no less worthy of their sons.
And yet, Sergei Smirnov again and again filed petitions. As a result, E. M. Fomin, by the Decree of the Presidium of the Supreme Soviet of the USSR of January 3, 1957, was awarded the Order of Lenin. Since 1981, war veterans and their organizations have repeatedly appealed to the top leadership of the USSR, Russian Federation, Republic of Belarus with petitions for conferring the title of Hero posthumously on E. M. Fomin, but in vain.
The memory of the faithful son of the Soviet people - the commissar both by position and by vocation - Efim Fomin lives on. Streets are named after him in the Belarusian cities of Brest and Minsk, in the village of Liozno in the Vitebsk region, where he comes from, and in Russian Pskov, three schools in Belarus and Russia, and memorial plaques are installed in the Brest Fortress, the Ukrainian cities of Kharkov and Simferopol.
Every summer on June 22, on the anniversary of the start of the war, our neighbor Uncle Seryozha early in the morning, when everyone was still sleeping, put on a jacket with an empty left sleeve and the Order of the Patriotic War with a chipped enamel on one of the rays of a five-pointed star. He went outside the gates of his old house, and, folding the palm of his surviving right hand in a boat, looked for a long time in the direction where the dawn was born. The timid rays of the morning sun slid over his face and dried the tears that rolled down his unshaven cheeks. He stood alone until the first passers-by appeared on the streets. Then he went to his room, sat down under an apple tree and sang in a dull, interrupted voice one and the same song:
June twenty-second, exactly at four o'clock
Kyiv was bombed, they announced to us that the war had begun ... "
Neither Uncle Seryozha nor his old house has long been gone. And the song is alive. How alive is the memory. The memory of those heroes who were the first to take the fight and for whom the front line where they fought was the last. The memory of the millions who died for the Victory and those who returned with the Victory.
I put the last point in this story and got up. In the semi-darkness of a summer evening, I again saw the silhouette of the commissar at the window and stood next to him. Stand up and you, my reader. Remember the fallen and be silent. We all live thanks to them. They will stay with us forever.
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In 1950, under the ruins near the Brest Fortress, the remains of documents were found that testify to fierce battles in the first months of the war. Previously, there was an opinion that the military operations in June-July 1941 were given to the Germans without much loss. However, the discovered papers said otherwise. Soldiers and officers of the Red Army fought to the last drop of blood. Among them was Efim Moiseevich Fomin, the regimental commissar mentioned in the found document. Until 1950, few people knew his name.
22nd of June
Before presenting the biography of Efim Moiseevich Fomin, one must recall the tragic events that occurred in 1945. After all, the name of this man is inextricably linked with, more precisely, with the capture of the ancient citadel by the Germans.
Early in the morning, at four o'clock, new, hitherto unseen stars appeared above the quiet and surprisingly non-military garrison, located in a picturesque area. They dotted the horizon, and their appearance was accompanied by a strange rumble, which, however, could not be heard by either Efim Moiseevich Fomin or other officers. The garrison was asleep. His awakening came only when the predawn haze was lit up by violent flashes of explosions and a monstrous roar rose up, shaking the earth within a radius of several kilometers. Thousands of German mortars opened fire on the border strip. Thus the war began.
ruined fortress
The German army failed to implement the Barbarossa plan, but the first months of the war were successful for it. No one could tell about what happened at the end of June in the Brest Fortress. Witnesses of bloody battles were silent stones. But a miracle happened, and they started talking. In 1944 Brest was liberated. Then on the walls of the ruined fortress they found inscriptions made by Soviet soldiers and officers in the first days of the war. One of them reads: "I'm dying, but I don't give up." Some inscriptions were signed by soldiers.
Last Witnesses
The name of Efim Moiseevich Fomin was not found on the walls of the Brest Fortress. The aforementioned document testifies to his feat, as well as those few witnesses and participants in the battles who, fortunately, survived. Some of them were captured, after the end of the war they were sent to camps. Such was the fate of all Soviet soldiers caught in the occupation. Translate German first concentration camp, and then domestic, managed to units. But those who survived told in the battles for the Brest Fortress, including the defense of the citadel in the area near the Kholmsky Gate, which was led by Efim Moiseevich Fomin.
Fighting in the early days of the war
Let's go back to the June 21 event. The sudden roar of cannonade, shells, bombs. The people awakened by the explosions are in a panic... Efim Moiseevich Fomin takes command of the unit. He is in the central fortress, instantly gathers fighters, and instructs one of them to lead the counterattack. Thus, the Soviet soldiers destroy machine gunners who broke through to the very center in the citadel. And then there are battles that continue, according to many historical sources, until the end of July. Efim Moiseevich Fomin was an active participant in the defense of the Brest Fortress in the first four days of the war.
Legends of the citadel
How Soviet soldiers defended the citadel became known only at the end of the war. Then those that survived were sent to camps. And only in 1954 began rehabilitation. They started talking about the Brest Fortress. There were many legends and myths.
How did the fighters manage to hold out for so long? Probably, the whole thing is in a powerful stone fortress? Or in superior weaponry? Or, perhaps, in the training of military personnel? The Brest Fortress was indeed defended by military professionals. Only, unfortunately, there were very few of them, because the main part was on the exercises. As for the fortress, yes, this imposing citadel was able to prevent enemy attacks ... in the 18th and 19th centuries. In the twentieth century, and with modern German aviation, the powerful walls of the fortress have lost all meaning.
The defense of the fortress rested solely on the incredible patriotism and courage of Soviet soldiers, such as Commissar Efim Moiseevich Fomin. From June 21 to June 22, there was only one battalion and several units in the position. Three lieutenants lived in a hostel, and Fomin was also here. The day before, he received a vacation, during which he planned to bring his family, who was in Latvia, to Brest. But he was not destined to leave the fortress. A few hours before the start of the war, he went to the station. There were no tickets. I had to return.
One of the shells hit the commissar's office. Fomin almost suffocated from the acrid smoke, but he still managed to get out of the room. Thanks to an experienced command, the fighters took up defense within a few hours. The commanders' wives and children were sent to the basement. Fomin addressed the soldiers, urging them to remember their duty and not to panic. The machine gunners took up positions on the second floor near the windows.
At the Kholmsky gate
Fomin and his fighters took up a position not far from the Kholmsky Gate. A bridge was located here, along which the Germans made many attempts to reach the center of the fortress. The enemy did not manage to reach the gate for several days. Ammunition, the amount of which did not at all correspond to wartime, was spent very sparingly. Once one of the fighters said that the last cartridge should be kept for himself. Commissar Efim Moiseevich Fomin objected, stating that he should be sent to the enemy. And you can die in hand-to-hand combat.
But in hand-to-hand combat Fomin failed to die. On June 26, the enemy captured the Soviet command. The half-dead commissar fell into the hands of the Nazis and was soon shot.
Commissioner's portrait
Efim Moiseevich Fomin did not receive the title of Hero of the Soviet Union. But in 1957 he was posthumously awarded the Order of Lenin. About what this man was, it is known thanks to the memories of a few of his colleagues.
He ended up in the Brest Fortress three months before the start of the war. But already in this short time he managed to gain authority among officers and soldiers. Fomin knew how to listen, was an understanding and sympathetic person. Perhaps he acquired these qualities due to a difficult fate. According to the memoirs of colleagues, he was short, black-haired, with intelligent, slightly sad eyes.
short biography
At the age of six, the future commissar was orphaned. In 1922 he was sent to an orphanage located in Vitebsk. In need, maturity comes very early. By the age of 15, Yefim had already graduated from secondary school and became a completely independent person. For some time he worked at the Vitebsk shoe factory, then moved to the city of Pskov.
The nomadic life of the military began in 1932. Fomin visited Pskov, Crimea, Latvia, Moscow. He rarely saw his wife and son. His short life was spent traveling. Military career turned out well, but shortly before the war he was sent to Brest on an unfair charge. Few photos of Fomin Efim Moiseevich have survived to this day. One of them can be seen in this article.
The hero of today's article was not a fearless, experienced warrior. For many years he wore a military tunic, but he had a chance to go to battle only in the last days of his life. The morning of June 22 was a baptism of fire for Commissioner Yefim Fomin.
Many books have been written about the heroes of the Brest Fortress and no less films have been made. The image of Yefim Fomin was embodied by talented actors on the stage and in the cinema. In 2010, the film "Brest Fortress" was released, where the commissioner played
A short, thirty-two-year-old black-haired man, already beginning to gain weight,
a man with intelligent and a little sad eyes - this remained the regimental
Commissar Fomin in the memory of those who knew him.
As a musician, it is unthinkable without a sharp ear, just as an artist is impossible without
special subtle perception of colors, so you can’t be a party, political
worker without a close, friendly and sincere interest in people, in their
thoughts and feelings, to their dreams and desires. This quality is fully
Fomin possessed. And people immediately felt it. Already in the way he knew how to listen
people - patiently, without interrupting, carefully peering into the face of the interlocutor
myopically narrowed eyes - in all this there was a deep understanding
human needs, lively and active sympathy, a sincere desire to help. And
although Fomin just three months before the war got here, in the fortress, the fighters of the 84th
regiment already knew that any
his misfortune, sadness or doubt, and the commissioner will always help, advise,
will explain.
No wonder they say that their hard life helps to understand difficulties
others, and a person who has endured a lot himself becomes more responsive to human
I'm burning. Difficult life path Efim Moiseevich Fomin, no doubt, taught
to many things, and above all to the knowledge and understanding of people.
Son of a blacksmith and a seamstress small town in the Vitebsk region,
Belarus, he has been an orphan for six years and was brought up by his uncle.
It was the hard life of a poor relative in a poor family. And in 1922
thirteen-year-old Efim leaves his relatives for the Vitebsk orphanage.
In trouble and need, maturity comes early. Fifteen years old, graduating from high school
the first stage and becoming a member of the Komsomol, Fomin already feels quite
an independent person. He works at a shoe factory in Vitebsk, and
then moved to Pskov. There he was sent to a Soviet party school, and soon, having entered
into the ranks of the party, he becomes a professional party worker -
propagandist of the Pskov city committee of the CPSU (b).
From those years, a photograph of Komsomol member Efim Fomin, a listener, has come down to us
Soviet party schools. Protective cap with an asterisk, Jungsturmovka with a harness,
direct and stubborn look - a typical photograph of a Komsomol member of the late twenties
Yefim Fomin grew up as a selfless ordinary soldier of his party. When in
In 1932, the party decided to send him to political work in the troops, he
in a soldier's way he said "Yes!" and changed his civilian tunic as a party worker
on the tunic of the commander of the Red Army.
The nomadic life of the military began. Pskov - Crimea - Kharkov - Moscow -
Latvia. The new work required the exertion of all forces, continuous study.
Rarely had to be with his family - his wife and little son. The day passed in
trips to departments, in conversations with people. In the evenings, closing in
office, he read Lenin, studied military literature, taught German
or preparing for the next report, and then until late at night they heard him
measured steps. Putting his hands behind his back and at times ruffling the thick black
hair, he paced from corner to corner, thinking about the upcoming performance and
automatically singing his favorite: "Captain, captain, smile!"
In the Brest Fortress, he lived alone, and he was not left longing for his wife and
son, who was still in the Latvian town, at the place of his former service.
He had been planning to go for them for a long time, but they didn’t let things go, and the situation on
border became more and more menacing, and a dull alarm for loved ones
rose in my heart. Still, it would be easier if the family was together with
from Brest. She said some military sent their families inland
country and asked what she should do.
Fomin did not answer immediately. He understood the danger of the situation, but, as
communist, considered himself not entitled to sow alarm in advance.
Do what everyone will do,” he said shortly and added that
will soon come and take his family to Brest.
ticket, and at dawn the war began. And with her first explosions, the army
political worker Fomin became combat commissar Fomin.
year he became commissioner in deeds. Heroes are not born, and no the light of the people,
devoid of fear. Heroism is the will that conquers fear in itself, it is
a sense of duty that turned out to be stronger than the fear of danger and death.
Fomin was by no means a seasoned or fearless warrior. On the contrary, it was
in all his appearance there is something indestructibly civilian, deeply
to a peaceful man, far from war, although he had been wearing military clothes for many years
tunic. He did not have to take part in the Finnish campaign, as many
other fighters and commanders from the Brest Fortress, and for him a terrible morning
He was only thirty-two years old, and he still expected a lot from life. At
he had a family dear to his heart, a son whom he loved very much, and anxiety
for the fate of loved ones always relentlessly lived in his memory next to everyone
worries, sorrows and dangers that weighed heavily on his shoulders from the first
day of the defense of the fortress.
Shortly after the shelling began, Fomin, together with Matevosyan
ran down the stairs to the basement under the headquarters of the regiment, where by this time already
a hundred and a half fighters from headquarters and economic units gathered. He
barely had time to jump out of the office, where the incendiary projectile had hit, and came
down half-dressed, as the war found him in bed, carrying his
outfit. Here, in the basement, there were many of the same half-dressed people, and
Fomin's arrival went unnoticed. He was as pale as the others, and so
he cautiously listened to the rumble of nearby explosions that shook the cellar. He
does he think that these are ammunition depots torn, set on fire by saboteurs.
He seemed to be afraid to utter the last fatal word - "war".
Then he got dressed. And as soon as he was wearing a commissar's tunic
with four sleepers on the buttonholes, and with a habitual movement he tightened the waist
belt, everyone recognized it. Some movement passed through the basement, and dozens of couples
eyes turned to him. He read in those eyes a dumb question, hot
a desire to obey and an irresistible desire for action. People saw him
party representative, commissar, commander, they believed that only he now
knows what to do. Let him be as inexperienced, unfired
a warrior like them, a mortal man just as suddenly found himself among
raging formidable elements of war! Those questioning, demanding eyes at once
reminded him that he was not just a man and not only a warrior, but also
commissioner. And with this consciousness the last traces of confusion and
indecision disappeared from his face, and in his usual calm, even voice
the commissar gave his first orders.
From that moment to the end, Fomin never forgot that he -
commissioner. If tears of impotent anger, despair and pity for the perishing
comrades spoke before his eyes, it was only in the darkness of the night,
when no one could see his face. People invariably saw him as stern, but
calm and deeply confident in the successful outcome of this difficult struggle. Only
once, in a conversation with Matevosyan, in a moment of brief lull, a
Fomin what he hid from everyone in the very depths of his soul.
Still, it’s easier for a lonely person to die,” he said quietly, sighing.
Komsomol organizer. - It's easier when you know that your death will not be a disaster for others.
He did not say anything more, and Matevosyan remained silent in response, realizing that
what the commissioner thinks.
He was a commissar in the highest sense of the word, showing in everything
an example of courage, selflessness and modesty. Soon he had to
put on the tunic of a simple fighter: Hitler's snipers and saboteurs
hunted primarily for our commanders, and for the entire command staff
was ordered to change. But even in this tunic everyone knew Fomin - he
appeared in the most dangerous bridges and sometimes he himself led people into attacks. He hardly
slept, languished from hunger and thirst, like his fighters, but water and food, when they
managed to get it, received it last, strictly making sure that he did not take it into his head
give some preference over others.
Several times the scouts, who searched the dead Nazis, brought
Fomin found biscuits or buns found in German knapsacks. He sent it all
to the cellars - to children and women, leaving not a crumb for themselves. Once tormented
thirsty, the fighters dug out in the basement where the wounded were, a small
a hole-well, which gave about a glass of water per hour. The first portion of this water -
muddy and dirty - the paramedic Milkevich brought upstairs to the commissar, offering him
get drunk.
It was a hot day, and for the second day there was not a drop of moisture in Fomin's mouth.
His dry lips were cracked and he was breathing heavily. But when Milkevich
handed him a glass, the commissar sternly raised red, inflamed
sleepless eyes.
Take it to the wounded! he said hoarsely, and it was said in such a way that
Milkevich did not dare to object.
Already at the end of the defense, Fomin was wounded in the arm during the break of the German
grenade thrown through the window. He went down to the basement for dressing. But when
an orderly, around whom several wounded soldiers crowded, seeing
Commissar, rushed to him, Fomin stopped him.
First them! he ordered curtly. And, sitting on a box in the corner, he waited,
until it's his turn.
For a long time the fate of Fomin remained unknown. The most went about him
conflicting rumors. Some said that the commissar was killed during the fighting in
fortress, others heard that he was captured. Somehow no one saw
with my own eyes neither his death nor his captivity, and all these versions had to
take into question.
Fomin's fate became clear only after I managed to find
Belsky district of the Kalinin region of the former sergeant of the 84th infantry
regiment, and now the director of a secondary school, Alexander Sergeevich Rebzuev.
from the premises of the barracks, when the Nazi saboteurs blew up with explosives
this part of the building. The fighters and commanders who were here, for the most part
were destroyed by this explosion, covered and crushed by the rubble of the walls, and those
who was still alive, submachine gunners dragged out half-dead from under the ruins and took
in captivity. Among them were Commissar Fomin and Sergeant Rebzuev.
The prisoners were brought to their senses and, under a strong escort, were driven to the Kholmsky
gate. There they were met by a Nazi officer who spoke Russian well,
who ordered machine gunners to thoroughly search each of them.
All documents of Soviet commanders were destroyed long ago by order
Fomin. The commissar himself was dressed in a simple soldier's quilt and tunic.
no insignia. Emaciated, overgrown with a beard, in tattered clothes, he
was no different from other prisoners, and the fighters hoped that they would succeed
hide from the enemies who this man was and save the life of his commissar.
But among the captives was a traitor who had not defected earlier to
enemy, apparently only because he was afraid to get a bullet in the back from the Soviet
fighters. Now his hour has come, and he decided to curry favor with the Nazis.
Smiling flatteringly, he stepped out of the line of prisoners and turned to the officer.
Mr. officer, this man is not a soldier, - he said ingratiatingly,
pointing to Fomin. - This is the commissioner, the big commissioner. He told us to fight
to the end and not surrender.
The officer gave a short order, and the submachine gunners pushed Fomin out of the
ranks. The smile slipped from the traitor's face - inflamed, sunken eyes
The prisoners looked at him with mute menace. One of the German soldiers pushed
butt, and, immediately fading away and lasciviously running his eyes around,
the traitor stood up again.
Several machine gunners, on the orders of the officer, surrounded the commissar in a ring and
they led him through the Kholmsky gate to the bank of the Mukhavets. A minute later from there
came bursts of machine guns.
At that time, not far from the gate on the banks of Mukhavets, there was another
a group of prisoners - Soviet soldiers. Among them were soldiers of the 84th regiment, immediately
who recognized their commissioner. They saw how machine gunners put Fomin at
fortress wall, as the commissar threw up his hand, shouted something, but his voice
was immediately silenced by gunshots.
The rest of the prisoners were taken out of the fortress half an hour later under escort. Already in
twilight drove them to a small stone shed on the banks of the Bug and here
locked up for the night. And when the next morning the guards opened the doors and
there was a command to leave, the German guards missed one of the prisoners.
In a dark corner of the shed, on the straw, lay the corpse of a man who had betrayed
Commissioner Fomin. He lay with his head thrown back, bulging terribly
his eyes were glassy, and blue fingerprints were clearly visible on his throat.
It was payback for betrayal.
Such is the story of the death of Yefim Fomin, the glorious commissar of the Brest
fortress, warrior and hero, faithful son of the Communist Party, one of the main
organizers and leaders of the legendary defense.
His feat is highly appreciated by the people and the government - by the Decree of the Presidium
of the Supreme Soviet of the USSR Efim Moiseevich Fomin was posthumously awarded the Order
Lenin, and an extract from this Decree, like a precious relic, is now kept
in a new apartment in Kyiv, where the wife and son of the deceased commissar live.
And in the Brest Fortress, not far from the Kholmsky Gate, to the bullet-riddled
a marble plaque was nailed to the barracks wall, on which it is written that
here the regimental commissar Fomin bravely met death at the hands of the Nazis
executioners. And numerous sightseers visiting the fortress come here,
to lay a wreath at the foot of the wall or just leave it near this board
a bunch of flowers - a modest tribute to people's gratitude and respect for memory
Original taken from grimnir74 in EFIM FOMIN. "COMMISSIONER, COMMISSIONER, SMILE..."
Jewish eyes, Soviet upbringing... Commissar Fomin... His favorite song was the song from the film "Children of Captain Grant" And when his heart was heavy, he sang "Captain, Captain, smile..."... A black-haired young man with a slightly sad look - this is how we see Regimental Commissar Fomin in the photo. He took over the leadership of the defense of the Brest Fortress, and defended it to the last ... He was only 32, and the soldiers considered him their father ... But there were always traitors ...
The son of a blacksmith and a seamstress from the small Belarusian town of Pegs near Vitebsk, he grew up as an orphan. He left his relatives who sheltered him after the death of his parents and went to an orphanage. And then, the classic story of the growing up of a Soviet boy of that time ... Work at a shoe factory in Vitebsk, moving to Pskov, promotion along the Komsomol line. And then Efim Fomin became the commander of the Red Army.
By the beginning of the war, he was already married and had a young son, Yura. On June 21, Fomin was going to Latvia to move his family to his place in Brest. I did not have time… Fortunately for his wife and son, who managed to evacuate from Latvia.
And Fomin had to become a combat commissar on June 22. He was not the classic fearless hero. And people who knew him did not notice anything outstanding and fighting in his face. But he was a man who knew how to take responsibility for his actions. And yet, his soldiers were dear to him ...
Efim Fomin is described in an essay on the history of the Brest Fortress:
“He was only thirty-two years old, and he still expected a lot from life. He had a family dear to his heart, a son whom he loved very much, and anxiety for the fate of those close to him always relentlessly lived in his memory next to all the worries, sorrows and dangers that fell heavily on his shoulders from the first day of the defense of the fortress.
Shortly after the shelling began, Fomin, together with Matevosyan, ran down the stairs to the basement under the headquarters of the regiment, where by that time hundreds and a half fighters from headquarters and economic units had already gathered. He barely had time to jump out of the office, where the incendiary shell had hit, and came downstairs half-dressed, as the war found him in bed, carrying his uniform under his arm. Here, in the basement, there were many of the same half-dressed people, and Fomin's arrival went unnoticed. He was as pale as the others, and he listened just as apprehensively to the rumble of nearby explosions shaking the cellar. He was clearly confused, like everyone else, and in an undertone asked Matevosyan if he didn’t think that it was ammunition depots that were being torn up, set on fire by saboteurs. He seemed to be afraid to utter the last fatal word - “war”.
Then he got dressed. And as soon as he was wearing a commissar's tunic with four sleepers on the buttonholes and he tightened his waist belt with a habitual movement, everyone recognized him. A movement passed through the basement, and dozens of pairs of eyes turned to him at once. He read in those eyes a silent question, an ardent desire to obey and an irresistible desire for action. People saw in him a representative of the party, a commissar, a commander, they believed that only he now knew what to do. Let him be the same inexperienced, unfired warrior as they are, the same mortal man who suddenly found himself in the midst of the raging menacing elements of war! Those questioning, demanding eyes immediately reminded him that he was not just a man and not only a warrior, but also a commissar. And with this consciousness, the last traces of confusion and indecision disappeared from his face, and in his usual calm, even voice, the commissar gave his first orders.
From that moment to the end, Fomin never forgot that he was a commissar. If tears of impotent anger, despair and pity for perishing comrades appeared before his eyes, then it was only in the darkness of the night, when no one could see his face. People invariably saw him as stern, but calm and deeply confident in the successful outcome of this difficult struggle. Only once, in a conversation with Matevosyan, in a moment of brief lull, did Fomin burst out with something that he hid from everyone in the very depths of his soul.
“Still, it’s easier for a lonely person to die,” he said quietly to the Komsomol organizer with a sigh. “It is easier when you know that your death will not be a disaster for others.
He did not say anything more, and Matevosyan remained silent in response, understanding what the commissar was thinking.
He was a commissar in the highest sense of the word, showing in everything an example of courage, selflessness and modesty. Soon he had to put on the tunic of a simple fighter: the Nazi snipers and saboteurs hunted primarily for our commanders, and the entire command staff was ordered to change clothes. But even in this tunic, everyone knew Fomin - he appeared in the most dangerous bridges and sometimes he himself led people into attacks. He almost did not sleep, was languishing from hunger and thirst, like his fighters, but when he managed to get water and food, he received the last, strictly making sure that he did not try to give him any preference over others.
Several times the scouts, who searched the dead Nazis, brought biscuits or buns found in German knapsacks to Fomin. He sent it all to the cellars - to children and women, leaving not a crumb for himself. Once, thirsty fighters dug in the basement where the wounded were, a small hole-well, which gave about a glass of water per hour. The first portion of this water - muddy and dirty - the paramedic Milkevich brought upstairs to the commissar, offering him a drink.
It was a hot day, and for the second day there was not a drop of moisture in Fomin's mouth. His dry lips were cracked and he was breathing heavily. But when Milkevich handed him a glass, the commissar raised his red eyes, inflamed with insomnia, sternly.
- Take it to the wounded! he said hoarsely, and it was said in such a way that Milkevich did not dare to object.
Already at the end of the defense, Fomin was wounded in the hand by a German grenade thrown through the window. He went down to the basement for dressing. But when the orderly, around whom several wounded soldiers crowded, saw the commissar and rushed to him, Fomin stopped him.
“Them first!” he ordered curtly. And, sitting on a box in the corner, he waited for his turn to come.
For a long time the fate of Fomin remained unknown. The most contradictory rumors circulated about him. Some said that the commissar was killed during the fighting in the fortress, others heard that he was captured. One way or another, no one saw with their own eyes either his death or his capture, and all these versions had to be taken into question.
Fomin's fate became clear only after Alexander Sergeevich Rebzuev, a former sergeant of the 84th Infantry Regiment, and now the director of a secondary school, was found in the Belsky district of the Kalinin region.
On June 29 and 30, Sergeant Rebzuev found himself, together with the regimental commissar, in one of the premises of the barracks, when the Nazi saboteurs blew up this part of the building with explosives. The fighters and commanders who were here, for the most part, were destroyed by this explosion, covered up and crushed by the rubble of the walls, and those who were still alive were pulled half-dead from under the ruins and taken prisoner. Among them were Commissar Fomin and Sergeant Rebzuev.
The prisoners were brought to their senses and, under a strong escort, were driven to the Kholmsky Gate. There they were met by a Hitlerite officer, who spoke good Russian, who ordered machine gunners to thoroughly search each of them.
All the documents of the Soviet commanders were destroyed long ago by order of Fomin. The commissar himself was dressed in a simple soldier's quilt and a tunic without insignia. Emaciated, overgrown with a beard, in tattered clothes, he was no different from other prisoners, and the soldiers hoped that they would be able to hide from the enemies who this man was and save the life of their commissar.
But among the captives there was a traitor who had not previously defected to the enemy, apparently only because he was afraid to get a bullet in the back from Soviet soldiers. Now his hour has come, and he decided to curry favor with the Nazis.
Smiling flatteringly, he stepped out of the line of prisoners and turned to the officer.
“Mr. officer, this man is not a soldier,” he said ingratiatingly, pointing to Fomin. “This is the commissar, the big commissar. He ordered us to fight to the end and not to surrender.
The officer gave a short order, and the submachine gunners pushed Fomin out of the line. The smile slipped from the face of the traitor - the inflamed, sunken eyes of the prisoners looked at him with mute menace. One of the German soldiers pushed him with the butt, and, immediately taking a back seat, the traitor again became in line.
Several machine gunners, on the orders of the officer, surrounded the commissar in a ring and led him through the Kholmsky Gate to the bank of the Mukhavets. A minute later, bursts of machine guns came from there.
At that time, not far from the gate on the banks of the Mukhavets, there was another group of prisoners - Soviet soldiers. Among them were soldiers of the 84th regiment, who immediately recognized their commissar. They saw how the submachine gunners placed Fomin near the fortress wall, how the commissar raised his hand, shouted something, but his voice was immediately muffled by the shots.
The rest of the prisoners were taken out of the fortress half an hour later under escort. Already at dusk they were driven to a small stone shed on the banks of the Bug and locked up there for the night. And when the next morning the guards opened the doors and the command was given to leave, the German guards missed one of the prisoners.
In a dark corner of the shed, on the straw, lay the corpse of a man who had betrayed Commissar Fomin the day before. He lay with his head thrown back, terribly bulging eyes, and blue fingerprints were clearly visible on his throat. This was retribution for betrayal.
The organizer and leader of the legendary defense of the Brest Fortress was only thirty-two ... And he was scared, like everyone else. But he couldn’t have done otherwise… And I was glad to know that the traitor got what he deserved right away… Although you won’t return this big and bright man with a slightly sad smile, who supported himself with the song “Captain, captain, smile…”
Efim Moiseevich Fomin was posthumously awarded the Order of Lenin. And the main award was received by his son Yuri Fomin
resident of Kiev, candidate of historical sciences, having learned the details of his father's death:
In 1951, as a student, I went to Brest with the hope of learning something about my father. At the military registration and enlistment office they showed me the district newspaper “For the Glory of the Motherland” with materials about the remains of 34 Soviet soldiers found in the ruins of the fortress, their weapons and things. A partially preserved order on the fortress dated June 24, 1941 was found in the commander's bag, where regimental commissar Fomin was named among the leaders of the defense.
From the editorial office of the named newspaper, I was informed of the address of one of the defenders of the Brest Fortress, the former clerk of the headquarters of the 84th Infantry Regiment A.M. Phil, who lived in Yakutia. I sent him a letter and in January 1952 received a reply. A.M. Fil said that he fought in the fortress under the command of Commissar Fomin, he knows that the shell-shocked commissar with several fighters was captured by the Nazis and executed.
No. 70. Letter from an ordinary clerk of the headquarters of the 84th brigade Alexander Mitrofanovich Fil to Yuri Efimovich Fomin - the son of Efim Moiseevich Fomin.
Tov. Fomin Yu.E.
If you are the son of Efim Moiseevich Fomin, I ask you to stand up before reading my letter. May the image of an honest warrior, a courageous defender of the Russian land, a hero of the Patriotic War against the black forces of the enemy, a fearless leader of the heroic defense of the Brest-Litovsk fortress in June 1941, rise in bright memory in your filial heart ...
I know Regimental Commissar Efim Moiseevich Fomin from his service in the 84th joint venture, 6th class. When he arrived to us, I was already serving at the headquarters of the unit. Below average height, dense, freshly shaved, ruddy, from the first days, with his attention to every little thing, to the most insignificant flaw, his responsiveness and simplicity, he acquired the good name of the Red Army milieu - "father". To his help, without timidity in the heart, resorted to all members of a large team. Efim Moiseevich was always among the fighters. I do not remember such a day or evening when he did not visit the units in his spare time from class. I do not remember such a case when the commissioner did not satisfy the request of the applicant. Severity and kindness, exactingness and practical help were his daily routine for educating the personnel of the unit. Until late (before lights out), Commissar Fomin - "father" - moved from the location of his unit to another, talked on various topics of his personal life, military, was interested in the requests, desires of the fighters, told stories of past campaigns of the Red Army, explained the policy of enemies, called for study, vigilance and loyalty to the oath. Sometimes, in a close circle of the assembled fighters, he conducted conversations, as they say, "heartfelt" on various intimate topics, amused and joked. Very often he was at the location of staff workers who lived on the same floor with him, along the same corridor with him. When, in conversations about relatives, staff officers (including myself) recalled children and wives, Commissar Fomin (as I remember now), sitting on his bunk, lowered his eyes, but immediately, smiling, supported the conversation with a story about his family, which was in the Latvian SSR. If you are his son, then he talked a lot about you. Then he talked about his funny, good son, whom he loved very much.
Until the last day before the war, he lived in the fortress, in his office, on the second floor. If you were there, in the fortress, you should remember...
21. VI.41, by order of the command of the Zap. OVO units 6 and 42 sd were withdrawn to the training ground for exercises at dawn on June 22, 1941 in selective strength. The commander of the unit, Major Dorodnykh, left the fortress with battalions at 22.30. Commissioner Fomin E.M. went to the station for a family trip. In connection with the departure for the teachings of the head. office work tech. int. 2nd rank Nevzorova P., I remained on the orders of the command to fulfill the position of head. office work. That evening, quiet and warm, the films “4th Periscope”, “Circus”, “Ruslan and Lyudmila”, etc. were shown in the fortress. In the building of the garrison club (near the ruins of the White Palace of the Polish Periscope”, before the start of the session, Commissar Fomin had a short conversation about the content of the film, pointing out the vile machinations of the enemies of the socialist Motherland, after which, surrounded by fighters, he stood near the club, as if continuing the conversation that had begun in front of the audience. Leaving the club, the commissioner said goodbye to the fighters, saying that he would continue the conversation, but his official duty required him to leave for a short time. Peace and happiness emanated on this wonderful evening. The fortress rested.
At about 1:00 a.m., Commissar Fomin returned from the station. This was already the beginning of the fateful 22 June 1941. The composition of the staff workers had not yet slept, and he came in to find out why this was so. We were doing who. That evening I wrote a letter home and didn’t finish it, left it until the morning, many read books. When we asked why they didn’t leave, Commissioner Fomin replied: “A little oddity, even a surprise, the tickets are all sold out.” Then he joked a bit and went to bed. We also went to bed.
At dawn at 4.00 the first exploding shell hit a small house opposite the hospital gates, and then ... the war began.
In difficult moments of battles, at the climax of attacks, your father always found words for the heart of a Russian, Soviet warrior. As a son, I want to tell you a little more than the usual story. Your father was very fond of human simple life. He was very fond of the fighters, our Soviet ones, and from the bottom of his heart, with all the fibers of his soul, despised the enemies and alarmists. He terribly hated the Fritz and the Hans. When he was informed about the fallen fighters, tears flowed from his courageous eyes. Many times, using all kinds of tactical cunning, he organized a breakthrough and exit from the fortress under his leadership, but ... it was impossible. Our small group, almost unarmed, was surrounded by units (as I learned from correspondence in 1950) of the 12th Army. enemy corps.
28.6.41 was the most decisive day and the most terrible day of the war. The Germans threw everything they could throw at the fortress. On this day, we were at the same entrance, in the same building, where we wrote the first order. I was wounded and was on the defensive at one of the windows of the building. The explosion collapsed the ceiling of the building and I was crushed by a collapse, when I began to remember myself, I was already surrounded by Germans among other fighting friends of the fortress. Your father, regimental commissar E. M. Fomin, was then still with Captain Zubachev in another section of the building. According to eyewitnesses, Commissar Fomin was unconscious when the Germans broke into the building we occupied. On this day, a fate befell that for the rest of the life of the survivors lay a black seal or deprived of life.
Your father, regimental commissar Efim Moiseevich Fomin, was the first organizer of the defense of the fortress and until the last minutes of the struggle he himself believed and inspired the fighters with the victory of Soviet weapons over fascism. In the last minutes of the battle, he was in a simple Red Army sweatshirt, in a tunic with insignia and with a TT pistol, when he ran along the line of defense past me and other comrades, inspiring me to fight to the death. His face was already pale. At that moment I saw him for the last time, then what I wrote about above followed (he was stunned and shell-shocked by the explosion, but soon came to mind).
The custom of fascist monsters to take off their hats and sort by hair cut in one direction, and with hair in the other. From subsequent stories in the camp, it was definitely established that the regimental father was Fomin E.M. was shot by the Nazis at the first fort on the way across the wooden bridge from the fortress to the mountains. Tiraspol. There was a kind of "collection point", and the vile part, the smallest of the "Westerners" who passed the 45-day gathering, who are still 22. VI, threw white sheets out the windows, but were partly destroyed, from the stories of eyewitnesses, pointed to your father and his title. I can't remember exactly, but maybe it will help you...
Eternal and bright memory will be this place, watered with pure blood of the faithful son of the party and the Soviet people.
In order to give you a little idea of how courageous your father was, I will say a few words of secondary importance. From June 21 in the evening until the last day of the defense, the fighters brought down one "press" (as we said then) of raw green peas. Your father also got a portion, but he gave it to the wounded. Scouts brought other “gifts” to Efim Moiseevich (bread, buns), although it was in grams, but he never ate it, but gave it away with the words: “You are our strength, comrade soldiers, without you I cannot defend the fortress, so share it yourself and eat, there will definitely come a day when we will gather at a large round table, eat and drink.” We didn't even have water; they drank what a comrade would release. It was.
Once again, I apologize for the little and poorly written. You must understand me that the memories of what I experienced very ... excites me, and, despite the past 10 years, everything rises before my eyes, exciting, terrible.
Today, the memory of Efim Fomin is kept by the grandson ...
The image of Fomin is depicted in the best feature films about the defense of the Brest Fortress.
And in the Brest Fortress itself, not far from the Kholmsky Gate, a marble memorial plaque was nailed, on which it is written that the regimental commissar Fomin died here. Flowers are often brought here ...
Blessed memory of this man...