Lyubou Usova: “Ia, mozhet byt’, nemnozhko schastlivee drugikh” [Lyubou Usava: “I am probably a little luckier than the others”], Respublikanskaya stroitel’naya gazeta, 2014, No. 13 (562). Available online: https://web.archive.org/web/20151018225123/http://arcp.by/ru/article/lyubov-usova-ya-mozhet-byt-nemnozhko-schastlivee-drugih

– In 1941 I was studying at the institute. This was a gift I could have dreamt about as a child. Not only my dream came true, but also my father’s. Once he also very much wanted to become an architect, but life decided otherwise: my father became a builder. My life seemed to be getting better: we lived with my mother (my father was subjected to repression). She worked at the main post office as a typist. I also earned a little bit of extra money as a draughtswoman in an art workshop. My first year as a student passed like a beautiful dream. And suddenly out of the blue – the war! Tragedy caught me in my second year and turned everything upside down, – says Lyubov Dmitriyevna. – Though the alarm bells had been ringing for a while: since 1937, our boys, graduating from school and even entering the institute, were called up to the army, some of them were sent to artillery colleges straight from school. But I couldn’t believe it until the last moment…

On July 24, 1941 the Moscow Architectural Institute converted its work to the military mode: groups became divisions, courses – squads, and the students, replacing the classroom at the Institute for a carpentry workshop, mastered a new kind of “art” – making containers for bottle bombs against German tanks. Talented Lyubov Usova worked along with everyone else. A bit later she finished expedited nursing courses and helped caring for the wounded in the hospital. From the first days of the war she became a donor: her first blood group came in handy.

Today Lubov Dmitrievna smiles remembering the time when they were on duty at night on the roofs of houses and dug trenches in the garden ….

Finally, in October 1942, at the call of comrade Stalin, the rescue of the institute’s personnel finally started–the students were evacuated. Even the boys in the third year were no longer conscripted. [This made] everyone believe: the war will end, the Red Army will win, and the country will need qualified specialists.

The militarized Moscow Architectural Institute was transported to the sunny city of Tashkent: students in a railroad container, teachers on a passenger train. Lyubov Usova took her photographs and… her mother: she was allowed to. She had to leave behind everything else: her apartment, her things, her textbooks. She was evacuated in a business-like manner: she put on her father’s leather jacket, which had 12 pockets, and stuffed knives, cups, and other things in them. All this came in handy on the road. In addition, the architects were provided with soldier’s food and modest uniforms.

– It took us a month and five days to get there. In the freezing cold, across the country… We slept on the bunks like sardines in a jar. We turned around on command. On the whole, we lived in a friendly way – as a group. We cooked food for everybody– this was the girls’ responsibility. It was the boys’ task to fetch water and firewood. Somewhere they stole buckets and faithfully did their work. At night we had laundry and “bath time”. Everything was wonderful, friendly and fun,” says Lyubov Dmitriyevna.

…

And here they were, in Tashkent… However, despite the beauty of its streets, danger lurked at every turn: the Uzbeks did not like the refugees. A stolen handful of nuts could get you killed.

Upon arrival, the students were lodged in the building of the Tashkent Institute. The juniors settled in their classrooms: they slept under their desks, and in the morning, after cleaning their “beds,” they sat down at their study tables. The senior students were accommodated in the concert hall. Young architects studied four days a week, and in their free time they unloaded wagons, worked in a military factory, where they ground ingots for shells. Life went on in its own way: work – study – work. There was also time for recreation: students often bathed at the lake, went to the conservatory and theater.

– In Tashkent we admired many things: the magnificent monuments of architecture, the water, the warmth. Along the roads, aryks gurgled nicely, and everywhere was full of people. Everything would have been fine if not for hunger. To survive, we had to cheat: during lectures, we redrew food coupons. Once the guys told us that a commercial cafe had opened. The menu: a meatball with mashed potatoes, a glass of tea, a hundred grams of bread. The price is 10 rubles. We all contributed some money and bought one coupon to try; it was later counterfeited by everyone who wanted it. By the way, there were a lot of them. The next day the cafe was closed. We ate it all up! – Lubov Dmitriyevna said. – There were, however, those of us who did nothing on principle. They were dying of hunger…

By the end of the academic year, ten people from the cohort were awarded by a trip to Bukhara to take measurements of architectural monuments. Lyubov Usova was among the lucky ten. She carried the memory of that trip throughout her life. The city breathed with history: amazing buildings and constructions, landscape, people – everything was impressive.

– The only problem was that were always hunger… Our boys quickly adapted to the new city and became good at catching crows. We returned to Tashkent tired but happy. We used the rest of the money to buy a Bukhara melon. It was the tastiest thing I’ve ever eaten in my life. …

They also had another fabulous trip – to Samarkand. In the new city the student was astonished by Oriental bazaars: dainties, handicrafts, Uzbek shawls, beautiful tableware. But those prices!

This time was the brightest in the life of [Usava]: it was the beginning of a friendship with her future husband, architect Vasil Gerashchenko (then a student at the Kharkiv Institute of Engineering and Construction). He was ten years older than her and knew more about life, so he took her under his tutelage. He became a husband, a friend, and to some extent even substituted her father.

…

The war would not let forget about it… A decisive battle was approaching, which was to change the course of history drastically – the Battle for Stalingrad. Many promising architects were then taken to defend the hero-city. The Komsomol also decided to stand out and promoted three most active girls to the active army. Among them was Lyubov Usova. However she was not sent to the frontlines – during the checkup she was diagnosed with an open form of tuberculosis. In addition, as a result of long malnutrition she developed another rare disease – pellagra.  She was rejected, and also by that time her mother had fallen ill with typhoid fever.

– It was the hardest time in our evacuation. The management was exhausted: how to feed, how to help the wounded. They put me to work in vineyards, but nothing made me happy anymore, – the architect recolls with tears in her eyes. – And now – Victory! Stalingrad was defended. The outcome of the war became clear, and we began to think about home. Some of us left on their own. Our class returned to Moscow in the spring 1944, but that was no longer the class of young, full of life students, but student who were sick, depressed, exhausted students (some of them were even lifted on the train on stretchers and by hands)… But [they were] happy! After all, we were going home. Ahead of us was a complete victory, in which we never doubted.

Lubov Dmitrievna and her husband moved into the institute’s dormitory. The wives of the front-line soldiers were already living in her ancestral home on Potapovsky Lane. She did not want to evict them… In 1947, she graduated with honors from the Institute and received the long-awaited diploma of an architect. By then, Vasil Gerashchenko worked in Minsk. Soon their family had their first child. Following her husband, Lyubov, her mother and her small son left for the capital of Belarus. It was May 1, 1947.

…

– Minsk… I could never think that someday this city, this republic would be my second homeland. I had been a Muscovite since I was 10 years old, before the terrible war [Lubov Usova was born in Irkutsk]. … I remember how we packed our belongings and went to the Belorusian train station. The music was thundering everywhere, the streets shone with lights and people were smiling… It was as if the war had never happened. Then, we arrived in Minsk. … It is difficult to describe the first feeling of horror… The face of a mutilated city appeared before our eyes: ruins, torn apart houses and brick walls, like open wounds. They seemed to bleed…

On the second day – May 3 – her architectural life began. Lubov Dmitrievna, with her husband, went to get a job at the architectural and planning studio of Yury Yegorov (now the Institute “Minskproekt”). …

… The older generation warmly patronized the young. There was a lot of interesting work. We had a clear task – to restore Minsk.

Gradually, the city began to come back to life, rising from the ruins. People were already thinking about the creation of a new Minsk, the draft of the general plan was being discussed. The first postwar congress of architects took place in the Officers’ building, and from time to time architectural discussions were organized. Particular attention was paid to the creation of the capital’s center. There was a lot of work. In due course the studio became crowded, so gradually it expanded and was subsequently transformed into Mingorproekt and then into the Institute “Minskproekt”.

…

At her 92, Lubov Dmitrievna feels great, tries to attend various events at the Union of Architects whenever possible, and writes memoirs about her colleagues. But her favorite thing to do is to walk around the city. Behind every building, park, street – she sees her comrades. This one was designed by Sasha Voinov, and this one by Mishka Baklanov, Georgy Zaborsky, and Arkady Bregman… Her eyes recall the friendly nightly gatherings, arguments and laughter, which resulted in the ingenious projects that fundamentally changed the face of the Belarusian capital.

– I may be a little luckier than others. Maybe I was lucky, or maybe it was a matter of chance… I was just lucky that my creative life turned out to be closely connected with a number of outstanding architects. My work gave me great pleasure, – said Lyubov Dmitriyevna at the end and smiled.