Death
On the evening of December 23, 1942, Filippov's parents were told by their neighbors that their son had been arrested by the Germans; Mr. and Mrs. Filippov had apparently been anticipating this event for several weeks. The Germans had discovered his spying activities and had sentenced him to death for espionage.
His mother rushed out of their house to see her son being led barefoot by a German platoon through the falling snow, accompanied by two other young persons, one of them a girl. Sasha's mother passed him some food, apparently with the thought that her son was being led off into captivity. However, the procession was marched to a grove of peashrub trees on Bryanskaya street, where Sasha and two other youngsters were hanged in view of neighbors and his parents. Mr. Filippov was unable to witness the actual execution of his son and left before this order was given, while Sasha's mom remained alone with the body of her son (and the other guy and girl) after the soldiers had marched off.
Early in 1980s the researchers have revealed the name of the woman hanged together with Sasha: it was 22-year-old Maria "Masha" Uskova, a single mother, an inhabitant of the nearby urban-type settlement Katrichevo. The other hanged man's name still remains unknown.
Read more about this topic: Sasha Filippov
Famous quotes containing the word death:
“To die proudly when it is no longer possible to live proudly. Death freely chosen, death at the right time, brightly and cheerfully accomplished amid children and witnesses: then a real farewell is still possible, as the one who is taking leave is still there; also a real estimate of what one has wished, drawing the sum of one’s life—all in opposition to the wretched and revolting comedy that Christianity has made of the hour of death.”
—Friedrich Nietzsche (1844–1900)
“My verse your virtues rare shall eternize,
And in the heavens write your glorious name.
Where, whenas death shall all the world subdue,
Our love shall live, and later life renew.”
—Edmund Spenser (1552?–1599)
“What we think of as our sensitivity is only the higher evolution of terror in a poor dumb beast. We suffer for nothing. Our own death wish is our only real tragedy.”
—Mario Puzo (b. 1920)