Hero of the Great Patriotic War, Kyrgyzstani Krikun Vasily Gavrilovich

Hero of the Soviet Union Krikun Vasily Gavrilovich

Vasily Gavrilovich Krikun was born in 1918 in the village of Oktyabrskoye, Jalal-Abad region of the Kyrgyz SSR.

He was Ukrainian. A member of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union (CPSU). Before the Great Patriotic War, he worked as a veterinary paramedic. In 1942, he voluntarily went to the front. Sergeant. Commander of a platoon, party organizer of a rifle battalion.

During the Great Patriotic War, he took a glorious path from the Volga to the Turkish rampart in Crimea as part of the Southern and 4th Ukrainian fronts. He showed particular courage and heroism in the battles for the liberation of the city of Melitopol.

The Motherland rightly appreciated the military feats of Vasily Gavrilovich Krikun. On November 1, 1943, he was awarded the title of Hero of the Soviet Union.

After the end of the Great Patriotic War, the Hero returned to peaceful labor. He currently lives in the city of Novosibirsk, a pensioner.

IN THE BATTLES FOR MELITOPOL

Vasily Krikun believed that he was very unlucky in life. When they called up guys born in 1918 to the army, the medical conclusion was unexpected but strict and final: unfit for service in the Red Army.

What a surprise! And he had hoped that, if not in aviation, if not in tank troops, he would definitely be useful in the cavalry. Vasily not only loved horses but also knew them—after all, he worked as a veterinary paramedic, serving several collective farms in the Jalal-Abad region. But try to argue against medicine!..

Of course, he envied his peers, seeing how the guys who came back from the army on leave strutted with military bearing. In their village of Oktyabrskoye, it was rare to see a person in military uniform back then, before the war.

Red Army soldiers were held in special respect. It was believed that if a guy served in the army, he was a jack of all trades. No matter what anyone said, Vasily Krikun was indeed unlucky.

In June of '41, he still went to the military enlistment office, and they immediately pulled up his documents and... sent him home. And again he heard the same word: unfit.

He probably would not have made it to the front, but then a chance presented itself. They were sending horses from their region to cavalry units. It was a tense time; in the summer of '42, the enemy was pushing towards the Volga, and the Stalingrad direction was already mentioned in the reports.

In the Volga steppes, the fate of the country was being decided. Soviet soldiers stood to the death here. The iron order of those harsh months became: "Not a step back!"

Krikun was entrusted with escorting the horses. So he was to keep an eye on them during the journey, ensuring they arrived at the front safe and sound. He completed his task and could return home with a clear conscience, but Vasily understood: if he left, he would miss his chance. And he saw a lot on the road. He was caught under bombings and witnessed the grief of refugees.

And from this picture of human suffering and our shared misfortune, Vasily's heart was filled with bitterness and hatred for the fascists. No, no one in his family was harmed, and his home was far away, in blooming orchards, but Krikun understood that he could not go back. Everything in him rebelled against this thought: his arms and legs were intact, and his head was working—how could he turn aside?

He had the accompanying documents from the Oktyabr district military enlistment office of the Jalal-Abad region with him. And here, near Stalingrad, new teams were being formed. Vasily went to the senior officer and told him that he had long wanted to go to the front, but the medics were against it. What to do?

— Well, — smiled the gray-haired, weary colonel. — I see you are a persistent guy. Alright, we'll process your papers and inform home so they won't worry, so they know you are involved in combat operations.

Thus, the veterinary paramedic ended up in courses for miners-explosives experts. He studied eagerly, grasping everything literally on the fly—the commanders were even surprised: what a clever guy! And he, to be honest, was surprised at himself too. But evidently, his character helped him. Vasily was used to doing everything conscientiously, meticulously, taking his time but not dawdling.

— In our business, you can't make mistakes,— the miners were taught. — You have no right to make a mistake.

One careless move, a second of relaxation—and that's it. So, guys, be careful.

Krikun liked this approach. He was always calm for himself, and although he had not yet smelled gunpowder, he showed excellent knowledge and skill during practical exercises.

And now Vasily was at the front. He was engaged in his usual task—clearing the fields of enemy mines and barbed wire, and he was also laying mines. That winter, General Field Marshal Manstein tried to break through to encircled Paulus in Stalingrad with his tanks. It didn't work. General Malinovsky's army held the lines firmly. There, in the Kotelnikovo direction, Sergeant Krikun distinguished himself. There, after fierce battles, when a temporary lull set in, he was accepted into the ranks of the Communist Party.

In the autumn of '43, the unit where Vasily Gavrilovich served approached Melitopol. Everyone knew that the fighting here would be particularly fierce and that the fascists would not easily give up Melitopol. This line, crossing the Zaporozhye steppe from north to south, covered the approaches to the lower reaches of the Dnieper and the Kakhovka bridgehead. The enemy understood: Melitopol was the key to Crimea. Here was concentrated the army of Colonel-General Hollidt, reinforced by several divisions from other fronts.

On October 10, our offensive began. The battles were fierce, and it took three days to finally break through the enemy's defenses and storm into Melitopol. Party organizer of the rifle battalion Vasily Krikun was in the front ranks of the attackers.

Before this, he had not participated in such fierce street battles in the city. The houses in Melitopol are massive, stone. Each house is a bastion. Everywhere—in basements and attics—enemy machine gunners and automatic riflemen were hiding. They broke through with difficulty. Clouds of smoke and dust obscured the sky over the city, and even gusts of wind could not disperse the gloom.

The fight was for every meter, for every house. The fascists frequently counterattacked, often leading to hand-to-hand combat. The battalion was ordered to take the cannery.

Vasily inspired the fighters with his personal example. It seemed impossible to stand under continuous fire and advance to storm a new house, but the party organizer rose and called the others to follow.

Thus, meter by meter, they approached the factory. Krikun remembered one episode. In one of the houses, where it turned out that a depot locksmith, Stepan Arkhipovich Devyatkin, lived, the fascists had established a stronghold. Hand-to-hand combat ensued several times. In the heat of battle, Devyatkin, who was hiding near the house, saw one of the fighters with a rifle trying to rush into the house through the broken door. But a fascist bullet struck the brave man.

Then the place of the fallen was taken by an old worker. Unnoticed, he picked up the rifle of the killed soldier and began to eliminate the Nazis hiding in the house with accurate fire. Taking advantage of their confusion, our automatic riflemen managed to eliminate this enemy stronghold.

The fascists also used tanks in street battles. Terrifying machines, but they could be successfully fought.

— The main thing, — said Vasily Gavrilovich to the young fighters,— is not to panic. You can't take a tank with bare hands, but if you have an anti-tank grenade or even a bottle with incendiary mixture in your hands, you can defeat this monster.

He recalled how he once found himself in a difficult situation. A "Tiger" was coming straight for his trench. Vasily threw a grenade, aiming as always for the tracks, but it was a misfire; the grenade did not explode.

And there was no time for a second throw—within moments, the tank was already crushing his trench. These were heavy minutes. The earth was falling, the sergeant saw nothing and heard almost nothing, while the fascist tank kept turning in one place, crushing the trench.

Perhaps the crew thought that it was all over for this Russian, and with a rumble, the "Tiger" moved on. But the sergeant was alive, he did not succumb to fear, and most importantly, he had grenades with him. The tank did not go far; with a precise throw, Krikun stopped it.

— We have a big task ahead of us, guys,— said the party organizer. — Melitopol is the last fortified line on the way to Crimea. The enemy has considerable forces here, but we have also become more experienced now.

He reminded them that it was here, in Melitopol, that the renowned Soviet commander Mikhail Vasilyevich Frunze fought. Here, in a small room of the station building, he developed the plan for the Chongar and Perekop operations. Here, the fate of Crimea was decided in 1920. And today, they, the warriors of the 51st army, must multiply the glory of our weapon.

On October 17, the battalion launched a decisive attack on the cannery, and the first to break into the enemy's position were Sergeant Krikun and privates Babenko and Sedykh. With accurate fire, Vasily eliminated ten fascists, and three raised their hands in surrender. Three days later, we took the railway station with a fight—and Krikun distinguished himself again.

When the fascists advanced their tanks, he and his fighters did not retreat but, letting the "Tigers" pass, cut off the infantry from the tanks with accurate fire. Our automatic riflemen shot without a miss—120 fascists met their death in this battle.
On October 21, at a crucial moment of fierce fighting, Krikun replaced the wounded company commander, senior lieutenant Lyapin. Rallying the fighters, he led them into the attack—the fascists were driven out of the fortified area.

On October 23, the words of the order of the Supreme Commander-in-Chief sounded across the country: "The troops of the 4th Ukrainian Front have seized the city of Melitopol—an important strategic node of the enemy's defense in the southern direction, blocking the approaches to Crimea and the lower reaches of the Dnieper... The fighters and commanders who distinguished themselves in the battles for breaking through the fortified line and liberating the city of Melitopol are to be nominated for the highest award—the title of Hero of the Soviet Union.

Among those distinguished was also Vasily Gavrilovich Krikun.

He was demobilized in 1946, worked for a long time in Osh, and twenty years ago moved to Novosibirsk, to his son.

But he does not lose contact with his native Kyrgyzstan. He visited Frunze at the invitation of the young pioneers, spoke to the pioneers, and silently stood by the Eternal Flame in Dubovy Park. In the book of the Komsomol post, Hero of the Soviet Union V. G. Krikun left the following note: "I am grateful to all who understand with their hearts that one must always be in the front ranks, learn a lot, work hard, and cherish that vast happy land called the Soviet country."