The Stalin Brigade

Sunday, late. Happy Victory Day! You wouldn’t think 65 years after the end of the siege of Leningrad was a particularly big anniversary to celebrate, but Petersburg would prove you wrong. The city has been plastered with red hammer-and-sickle-festooned decorations for weeks now, and while they look rather silly strung up between office buildings on Nevsky or plastered all over the metro, they make for a very dramatic setting when the celebration rolls around.

A rainy Victory Day kicked off with a parade in Palace Square at 10 am. I was informed by text message that this was probably not a good idea to go down to, as Ella, who’d gotten down there an hour early, was positioned a good half a kilometer away from the square and ended up watching the whole parade on a giant TV screen. Add to that the fact that it was raining…so I stayed home and watched the Moscow parade on TV. I was fascinated by the inclusion of American, British, and French regiments in the parade, a tribute to the fact that the victory was not only Russia’s (though Russia does take most of the credit). Medvedev continues to be a less than engaging speaker, but that’s okay, because I understood the important parts (and the many Oorah’s shouted by all the speakers and the military). Long live Russia’s great victory!

The rest of the afternoon was pretty peaceful; Lyudmila Afanasyevna was tickled pink by the bouquet of Mother’s Day orchids I presented to her! :) After lunch, she went to her dacha with her best friend, and I went downtown to meet with a large group of friends to see the parade. Or so I thought. In fact, so many streets branching off of Nevsky were closed, and the bus routes were so tangled up, that there was no way we were going to make it to the Admiralty, so I hopped a couple of alleys over from a closed street and seized a pretty good spot near the Arch. The parade was done in fine style, with marching regiments, lots of veterans from all around the city and the surrounding regions, a large band, some cute kids in uniform, even a band of communists near the end. The only people near me cheering the communists were the kids, who were just seizing the opportunity to scream ‘oorah!’ at the top of their little lungs, but apparently there were quite a few people along the parade route who were still cheering Stalin. I’m not sure how much applause the flags of Che Guevara and Jesus got, but hey, what’s victory without Che?

I did a little shopping after this and headed home in the rain, braving the bollixed-up bus routes. The fireworks were to start at ten, and I was home long enough to drop off my purchases and leave again for the Bronze Horseman. I met up with Katie, Claire, and four rather drunk Russian guys, and we stood in the square sharing shashlik-flavored potato chips (mmmm) and hoping the rain would hold off. Crowds and crowds of St. Petersburgers in varying states of sobriety or non-sobriety were singing patriotic songs, including the anthem, with which I joined in. The fireworks themselves were over too quickly, but against the Peter and Paul Fortress, they were very, very impressive.

The buses were still snarled up after the fireworks, but I hopped onto one and sat until it was finally cleared for takeoff. By that point, the weather had returned to the St. Petersburg norm (cold and rainy), so even sitting on a bus for half an hour without going anywhere wasn’t too bad; the buses are heated, and I had my Solzhenitsyn novel with me. I finally made it home about quarter of midnight and crawled into bed, but not before mounting my little Russian flag above my bed. I hope the city is slow in taking down the decorations, so I can get some even better pictures over the next two weeks. :)