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Special Incidents
bustling about them. Off to the side lay
our beloved Lyalya, unattended,
completely naked.
Kharchev was beside himself. He
snatched his pistol from its holster. He
fired into the ceiling and shouted that
this was premeditated.“If you don’t save
her life I am going to shoot everybody
here.” But Professor Schwartz and the
other doctors and nurses did not even
flinch. Evidently their dealings with SS
officers had hardened them. Our
surgeon, Major Musatov, deftly disarmed
Kharchev. He examined Lyalya, spoke
with Schwartz, and told us, “They did
everything they could. Now they have
From the author’s archives. given her the opportunity to die peace-
“Our beloved Lyalya.”
fully. She doesn’t have more than an
hour to live.” Kharchev began to sob.
The doctor motioned to one of the nurses. She approached Kharchev, rolled up his
sleeve, and gave him an injection.
Lyalya was given a funeral with honors. She had not only worked at the institute,
but had helped on her own initiative in the division, and she had enjoyed
great success with her artistic talent.A standard pyramid with a red star was erected
at her gravesite in the garden next to the institute. On one of the facets was a
portrait of Lyalya—a beautiful, talented young Russian woman from near Tula,
whose life came to such a tragic end in Germany. I wrote to Isayev about Lyalya’s
death. He was shaken—all the more so because he was making arrangements to
fulfill his dream of her working in our Moscow institute after repatriation.
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