With such extraordinary ancestors, Leonid couldn't help but believe that fate had something equally extraordinary and fascinating in store for him!
To tell the truth, Leonid's daily life also boasted plenty of extraordinary experiences. How many could claim to have bathed in a river with brackish water or luxuriated in the lake aptly named «Salty»? The village of Solonytsya itself seemed to announce its presence on saline soils. The local water bodies teemed with delectable fish, a true delicacy…
During the summer, the village children flocked to the lake with enthusiasm. Upon reaching its shores, they promptly shed their clothes and dove into the water, creating majestic fountains of splashes and savoring the brackish taste on their tongues. After their invigorating dip, they engaged in their cherished game «Chumatskiy Shliah,» (Chumaks' Route) a tribute to the ancient path to the Black Sea, once trodden by the salt-carrying Chumaks.
Alas, true salt marshes eluded this locale, but the boys delighted in discovering spots where salt crusts formed along the lake's edge, particularly during the heat. Their fervor knew no bounds as they diligently extracted salt grains, relishing the endeavor, and ultimately devouring their prized salt-infused rye bread with sheer delight!
Upon completing elementary school, new adventures beckoned. In the village, there existed only a one-class public school – a zemstvo school, so for further education, Lubny, the district town, was their destination, merely a few versts (miles) away by train. The railroad assumed an even more prominent role in Leonid's life…
The jaunts on the train proved thoroughly enjoyable. Amidst exuberant banter and playful jostling, the boys hopped aboard the local train and reached their destination with infectious excitement. However, amidst the boisterousness, one girl stood out by her composure. Olga Gurko, who was familiar to Leonid, seemed to exude an air of calm majesty as she gracefully found her seat and settled in. It was on one fateful day that Leonid Mirachevsky took particular notice of her and saw her in a new light… As neighbors, their fathers worked together – Sergei Gurko served as a railway foreman at Solonytska station.
Perhaps, the pivotal moment occurred when Ivan Shramko, always in a hurry and making a ruckus, accidentally pushed Olga while boarding the train. She stumbled precariously, nearly losing her balance on the elevated steps. In the nick of time, Leonid reached out from above, clasping her under the arm:
«Hold on!» he exclaimed, chastising his comrade. «Ivan, what are you doing?!»
«I didn't mean to; it was an accident,» Ivan retorted in his characteristic manner. «In any case, she didn't fall, did she?»
«Thank you,» Olga responded with grace.
«And weren't you frightened?» Leonid inquired with genuine concern.
Her face illuminated with a serene, grateful smile. A smile that was undeniably beautiful…
From that moment onward, Leonid began to view his neighbor with newfound attentiveness, subtly assuming a protective role over her.
Chapter 3: The Great Catastrophe
Overnight, the world collapsed in an unexpected twist of events. Yet, at Solonytska station, nobody fully grasped the impending calamity, except, perhaps, Mikhail Mirachevsky. He had forewarned that if the war persisted, trouble would ensue.
Initially, the vast Russian Empire's entry into the war seemed remote from the daily life of a small Ukrainian village. However, soon farewells to future soldiers echoed in the huts, and excited boys eagerly shared news of their relatives conscripted to the frontlines, using the newly acquired term «mobilization.» Gradually, the once tranquil station of Solonytska was drawn into the tumultuous whirlwind of wartime. Trains laden with troops, supplies, and weapons arrived from the west, while those heading eastward brought refugees, wounded, and prisoners. Echelons piled up, not only at major hub stations but also, gradually, at smaller stations like Solonytska.
As autumn waned, Mikhail found himself toiling ceaselessly, working around the clock. Exhausted, he would return home, barely having time to exchange words with his son. While Olga maintained her composure, she grew increasingly anxious as managing the household became increasingly challenging due to shortages of familiar goods and even firewood.
One fateful day, the boys hastened to the station upon hearing of a prolonged delay of a train carrying refugees. At first, their boisterous group strode confidently, feeling masters of their domain, but their excitement waned as they neared the wagons. Silently, they huddled closer, moved a little further away from the railroad tracks, nudging each other along, their remarks growing subdued until even the most vocal amongst them fell silent.
Their collective gaze fell upon a sight etched forever in their memories.
Haggard women with soot-blackened faces sat near the wagons, some cradling wailing infants, while older children huddled nearby. Suffering, fatigue, and fear of the unknown etched deep lines on the faces of ordinary people, compelled to abandon their homes due to war. For the boys, it was an eye-opening revelation of the true face of war, far removed from the headlines penned in newspapers…
Amidst conversations with the refugees, they learned that most hailed from the western provinces of Vistula Land. Curiously, the boys even managed to communicate with a group of their peers, finding no hostility in the strangers' expressions.
For a few moments, the two groups, the locals and the refugees, stood there, scrutinizing each other, until a young lad of about fourteen broke the silence with a question:
«Brothers! Do you have any bread? There's still a long way to go…»
Ivan, unable to resist, interjected with a jest, «Maybe we do. But not for you!»
«Wait a minute,» Leonid intervened. «Are you guys hungry?»
The bread beggar bashfully lowered his eyes, prompting Leonid to spring into action.
«Well, you wait here.»
They promptly returned with provisions – boiled potatoes, bread, dried apples, and cherries, and seeds.
They returned from the station with a sense of duty fulfilled, and the following day, they agreed to come again with provisions. The train was eventually allowed to proceed late into the night, heading toward Kharkov, where refugee reception centers awaited.
For eleven-year-old Leonid Mirachevsky, that day marked a turning point, crystallizing the significance of events unfolding around him, illuminating his parents' behavior, overheard adult conversations, and his own emotions.
Yet, the true trials had only just begun. Alongside the influx of refugees, disease crept into the village.
When Mikhail fell ill, Olga forbade her son from going near him, sensing danger. Leonid yearned to be of help and pleaded.
«I can give him some water! Why can't I help more?»
Olga remained steadfast, and the doctor's diagnosis confirmed her worst fears – «typhus» sounded like a dreadful verdict. For two weeks, the patient battled in a feverish haze, but his weakened body, exhausted from months of arduous work and anxiety, struggled against the infection.
Days passed in a blur – funeral, wake, an influx of acquaintances and strangers, followed by the profound quietude of an empty house.
As Leonid sat there silently, his gaze fixed on his father's photograph adorning the dresser, vivid memories flashed before him – fishing on the Sula, attending fairs in Poltava, and the precious moments of learning from his father about steam locomotives. He couldn't fathom a world without his father – the man who had been his mentor, his hero. It seemed impossible that Mikhail would not return, strolling out of the kitchen to resume his daily routines…
Olga approached her son, tenderly stroking his head, breaking the spell of silence. Leonid shuddered, sighed deeply, and finally allowed himself to cry – for the first time since he had learned of his father's death.
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