Memories of Soviet immigrants to Kaliningrad
Anatoly Plyushkov, born in 1922, living in the Kaliningrad region since 1947
All of us, party workers from Leningrad, were traveling on the same train. Most of the party members sent to the region were single, including me. (...) Everyone’s mood was upbeat. Two phrases stick in my mind, things my fellow travellers said that most clearly show the way we were thinking. One girl, I don’t remember her name, who was also being sent to the Kaliningrad region on party business, said: “I can’t shake the feeling that we’re going to the past.” And it’s true that most of us war survivors felt that we were bringing with us the advanced Soviet culture and way of life. Europe seemed to us a backward and hostile region of capitalism. The prospect of bringing Soviet culture to East Prussia was very attractive. At the same time, we knew almost nothing about the place where we were going to be working. And a young officer who was traveling with us remarked: “A Russian soldier, arriving in Europe, won’t notice that he’s not at home.” We considered the newly-acquired Kaliningrad territory not as someone else’s, but as land that we needed to bring under control. We were full of optimism, and no task seemed too hard for us to manage.
Valentina Korabelnikova born in 1935, living in the Kaliningrad region since 1946
I have only vague memories of the move itself—nothing special happened—but I do remember an incident at the railway station. I was left sitting on a suitcase (at that time everyone had one or two suitcases, mainly the things we needed most), and someone came up to me and said: “Little girl, you’re sitting on my suitcase. Get up, I’m taking it now.” I got up, and he took the suitcase and left. That’s how the whole family lost all their things.
...I saw Germans, real, live Germans... You can understand ..., there’d been the war, and we’d been told that the Germans were very bad—that they were “not humans”. (...) What a shock — they turned out to be ordinary people, just like us.
Elbrus Belyaev, born in 1926, living in the Kaliningrad region since 1947
When I arrived here, I saw a professor of botany at the University of Konigsberg, who was walking around the Botanical Garden, wiping away tears, saying goodbye. He said: “I have given my whole life to this garden. This is one of the best gardens in the world.” It was true. The garden was very well maintained and beautiful. There were unique trees from all over the world. Our people did not appreciate this treasure. (...) So the man who had looked after the garden was gone, and with him the care the garden needed. In short, all cultural and natural values began to die.
Source: Meduza, «Зашла немецкая семья, просили хлеба» 70 лет назад Кенигсберг стал Калининградом: воспоминания переселенцев, https://bit.ly/3EA2FYq, last visited 27.12.21