Lesson VOvoina.docx - Script for a literary and musical composition on the theme "Letters from the Front." Scenario of the festive program dedicated to Victory Day “Music of a front-line letter”
Solemn fanfares sound. The video “What is war?” is playing on stage. The presenters and actors of the theater studio take the stage to the music of the war years.
1 reader: I have never seen war
And I can’t imagine its horror,
But the fact that our world wants silence,
Today I understand very clearly.
Reader 2: Scarier than words no other than "war"
Which takes away everything holy.
When the silence weighs ominously,
When a friend did not return from battle...
Reader 3: Yes! The difficult hour is behind us.
We only learned about the war from books.
The windows were no longer darkened anywhere
In the smoky cities of Europe.
Victory was bought at the price of blood.
May the globe always remember this.
Reader 4: What do I know about war, what do I know about separation
When the steppe feather grass burns, and hands grab the emptiness
And the marble of clouds, as far as the eye can see, mints a march with pieces of the sky
You, without hiding, answer, soldier, what does victory taste like?
1 presenter: May 9, 1945 ended the most bloody war in the history of mankind, which is not without reason called world history.
3 presenter: The war, which for our country became Patriotic and Great, Great in the willpower and courage of its citizens, the courage and feat of its defenders!
Presenter 2: Good afternoon, Dear friends! Today this room is warm due to the friendly atmosphere and close due to the closeness of eras and generations. You have carried the hardships on your shoulders terrible war, passed huge life path with joys and successes, losses and hardships. A generation of children has come to meet you who have not experienced the horrors of war and know about it from history lessons, books, and films.
Together: We dedicate our concert to you, dear veterans, home front workers, children of war!
Speaker 1: Touching the three great oceans,
She lies, spreading out the cities,
Covered with a grid of meridians,
Invincible, wide, proud.
Presenter 2: But at the hour when the last grenade
Already in your hand
And in a short moment you need to remember at once
All we have left is in the distance
You don't remember a big country,
Which one have you traveled and learned?
Do you remember your homeland - like this,
How you saw her as a child.
A piece of land, leaning against three birch trees,
The long road behind the forest,
A small river with a creaking carriage,
Sandy shore with low willow trees.
Presenter 3: This is where we were lucky enough to be born,
Where for life, until death, we found
That handful of earth that is suitable,
To see in it the signs of the whole earth.
Yes, you can survive in the heat, in thunderstorms, in frosts,
Yes, you can go hungry and cold,
Go to death... But these three birches
You can't give it to anyone while you're alive.
Performance by 6th grade “A” and 7th grade “A” with the song “Where the Motherland Begins”
1 presenter: The earth slept peacefully. Children snored in their cribs, and adults, tired from the day, rested. And only in the night, full of peace and quiet, was the splash of water in the river occasionally heard, and the leisurely whispering of leaves on the trees. Civilians slept in their beds big cities and small villages, not knowing what awaits them tomorrow, that there will be four long and terrible years, and that many of them no longer have a future. The ground is covered with a light haze. Everywhere is still quiet. These were last minutes silence.
Composition " blue scarf» performed by class 6 “B”
Presenter 2: I’m writing to you from the front, dear.
Bow to my fellow countrymen...
Let them, like you, believe in me and know,
I will not give the land to the enemy.
Sometimes it's hard for us,
but thanks to good fortune:
I'm alive, dear friend,
and I wish the same for you!
3rd presenter: Old paper stubbornly wraps itself along folds pressed through more than sixty years ago. The ink has faded, the printing ink has faded postcards. Letters from the front are still carefully kept in many families. Each triangle has its own story: happy or sad. It also happened that sometimes news from the front that a loved one was alive and well came after a terrible government envelope. But the mothers and wives believed: the funeral came by mistake. And they waited - for years, decades.
1 presenter: Letters from the fronts of the Great Patriotic War - documents enormous power. In the lines that smell of gunpowder - the breath of war, the roughness of harsh everyday life in the trenches, the tenderness of a soldier’s heart, faith in Victory...
Performance by 8th grade “B” with the song “In the Dugout”
1st reader: From a letter from Pyotr Aleksandrovich Gogolev.
December 28, 1942. I was on a campaign for many days, and therefore it was not possible to give regular information about myself. Now I have the opportunity to write. We follow in the footsteps of the departing enemy. Sometimes, instead of the villages indicated on the map, we find a bare place covered with snow. For those who take part in hikes for the first time, it seems scary and unusual. Sometimes you have to pass the fields of hot recent battles. I remember the words of Pushkin in his work “Ruslan and Lyudmila”. This same Ruslan went to the field of past battles, here is Pushkin’s expression: “...Oh field, field! Who littered you with dead bones..." The only difference is that Ruslan had an old battlefield in front of him, and we have fresh traces of battles. And another difference is that Pushkin describes a field strewn with dead bones, but we have a field strewn with dead cars, a mass of broken tanks, planes, cars. Of course, in some places we meet our comrades who have died for their Motherland - soldiers and commanders of the Red Army - who have not yet been collected. There are also those who wanted to take our land, our freedom, our Motherland from us.
2nd reader: From a letter from Senior Sergeant Alyakrinsky.
Hello my dear!
Finally, letters from you began to arrive. I am now sitting in a muddy hole, covered with a tent on top. It was raining recently and there was mud all around. The front is not far away, the walls of the tent are shaking from the echoing sounds of artillery fire. In three days we walked about 80 kilometers. Soon it seems that what we have been preparing for for so long will begin. But now I feel very good and completely calm. I even want to get there sooner. I'm tired of messing around with this crap. We will finish it soon, it seems to me that these fights will be the last. The German is nervous and fires heavy guns - ours are silent. But the day is not far off when thousands of guns will strike at once and their thunder for tens of kilometers will herald a new Russian offensive.
The song “Mother Russia” performed by Daria Leonova 10 “B”
1 presenter: And where from?
Suddenly strength comes
At the hour when
Is it black in the soul?..
Was not the daughter of Russia,
I would have given up long ago.
2 presenter: Shoulder to shoulder with men, those who were destined by nature since ancient times to be the guardians of the hearth, fragile women, girls, yesterday’s girls, stood up to defend the Fatherland. Without a single complaint or groan, they endured all the hardships of front-line life and hard work in the rear, approaching the most long-awaited day - Victory Day!
Speech by Elizaveta Ryzhkova with an excerpt from Y. Bondarev’s story “Battalions Ask for Fire”
The song “Katyusha” performed by Plesskaya Nadezhda from 5th grade “A”
The video “Children and War” is playing on the screen. Against its background, the words of the reader sound.
1st reader: From a letter from Katya Susanina.
March 12, Liozno, 1943.
Dear, good dad!
I am writing you a letter from German captivity. When you, daddy, read this letter, I will not be alive. And my request to you, father: punish the German bloodsuckers. This is a will for your dying daughter.
A few words about my mother. When you return, don't look for your mother. The Germans shot her. When they asked about you, the officer hit her in the face with a whip. Mom couldn’t stand it and proudly said: “You won’t intimidate me by beating me. I’m sure my husband will come back and throw you vile invaders out of here.” And the officer shot my mother in the mouth...
Dad, I turned 15 today, and if you met me now, you wouldn’t recognize your daughter. I became very thin, my eyes were sunken, my pigtails were cut bald, my hands were dry and looked like a rake. When I cough out of my mouth there's blood coming out- My lungs were knocked out.
Yes, dad, and I am a slave of a German baron, I work for the German Charlain as a laundress, I wash clothes, wash floors. Twice I ran away from my owners, but their janitor found me. Then the baron himself tore off my dress and kicked me. I was losing consciousness. Then they poured a bucket of water on me and threw me into the basement.
I bequeath, dad: avenge mom and me. Goodbye, good daddy, I'm leaving to die.
Your daughter Katya Susanina...
My heart believes: the letter will arrive.
1 presenter: Children and war. It’s hard to imagine a more terrible phrase than this. The war swept through the destinies of thousands, millions of boys and girls like a merciless skating rink, taking away their fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, Father's house, depriving them of their childhood.
“Song about the little trumpeter” performed by 5th grade “B”
2 presenter: An excerpt from V. Kataev’s story “Son of the Regiment” performed by Daniil Filatov from 7th grade “B”
Speech by Filatov D. 7 “B”
Presenter 1: Friends come to grandpa,
They come on Victory Day.
I like to listen for a long time
Their songs and conversations.
Presenter 2: I don't ask them to repeat
Secret stories:
After all, repeating means losing again
Military comrades,
Which are still being sought
Military awards.
One is a sergeant, the other is a major,
And more - ordinary people.
Presenter 3: I know: It’s difficult every year
Tell me first
About how the army advances
She walked with hope.
About what kind of gunfire there is,
How bullets are aimed at the heart...
“Fate,” they sigh, “
Fate! Do you remember how in July?
Presenter 1: I’m sitting silently next to you,
But sometimes it seems
Why am I looking through the sights?
That I'm preparing for a fight.
Performance by 8th grade “A” with the song “Great-Grandfather”
Presenter 1: Remember how the guns thundered,
How soldiers died in the fire
In forty-one
Forty-fifth -
The soldiers went to battle for the truth.
Presenter 2: Remember how the earth shook and went blind,
As the dawn rose from the ashes,
Thunder of guns
Let's not forget
We are with you.
Presenter 3: Remember that the spring shoots rustle, -
Don't forget these terrible years!
Our path is difficult
Stand up people
Life is calling!
Performance by 9th grade “B” with the composition “Ah, War”
Presenter 1: Even then we weren’t in the world,
When fireworks thundered from one end to another.
Soldiers, you gave to the planet
Great May, victorious May!
Presenter 2: Even then we weren’t in the world,
When in a military storm of fire,
Deciding the fate of future centuries,
You fought a holy battle!
Presenter 3: Even then we weren’t in the world,
When you came home with Victory.
Soldiers of May, glory to you forever
From all the earth, from all the earth!
Presenter 1: Thank you, soldiers.
For life, for childhood and spring,
For silence, for a peaceful home,
For the world we live in!
Video “Thank you, veterans!”
The song “Russia” performed by Liza Ryzhkova and Yulia Pronina.
Scenario of literary and musical composition
"LETTERS FROM THE FRONT"
The song “Light the candles” - the librarian sings.
The children go out, take out candles, and place them near the obelisk.
Librarian: The war lasted four years—that’s 1,418 days. 27 million dead people! And we live in an era of large scales, we are accustomed to large numbers, we easily, almost without thinking, say “A thousand kilometers per hour, millions of tons of raw materials.” But 27 million dead... Can you imagine what this is? If a minute of silence is declared for each of the 27 million deaths in the country, the country will be silent for 32 years!
^
A minute of silence.
"Holy war". (Presentation: war photos)
Our yards have become quiet,
Our boys raised their heads -
They have matured for the time being
They barely loomed on the threshold
And they left, following the soldier - the soldier...
Goodbye boys!
Boys, try to go back.
No, don't hide, be tall
Spare no bullets or grenades
And don’t spare yourself, and yet
Try to go back.
Oh, war, what have you done, vile one:
Instead of weddings - separation and smoke,
Our girls' dresses are white
They gave it to their sisters.
Boots - well, where can you get away from them?
Yes, green wings...
Don't give a damn about the gossipers, girls.
We'll settle the score with them later.
Let them chatter that you have nothing to believe in,
Why are you going to war at random...
Goodbye girls!
Girls, try to go back.
Presenter 1:
The years are getting further away from us, scorched by war. Veterans are passing away. But the suffering of the war years and the immortal courage of the people are still alive in the people's memory. Frontline letters! Who among the older generation is not familiar with homemade paper triangles! These are wills fallen heroes alive!
Presenter 1:
This is an inexhaustible source of courage and faith in the future.
Presenter 2:
This is a war story written in the blood of brave men. It does without maps and diagrams, without reports and large numbers. And its originality lies in the fact that it passes through the human heart.
Presenter 1:
This is a story written by soldiers in the trenches and dugouts, which provides the final, victorious formula for the entire war. It is a symbol and pledge of a future victory, which must still be achieved at the cost of sacrifice and a long struggle, but this victory can already be read in the heart of the hero, in his firmness and invincibility.
Front letter, don’t be silent, tell me
ABOUT brutal war and about the time
How the soldier fought, how he lived in the trenches,
How he suffered and dreamed, how he loved his father’s house.
Presenter 2:
In every letter from the front there is not only no stamp of doom, there is not even a shadow of this, almost inevitable in the face of near death, state of mind.
I am reading a letter that has already turned yellow over the years,
On the envelope in the corner there is a field postal number.
It was in '42 that my father wrote to my mother
Before going into your last decisive battle.
“My dear, at the front we have a break,
Friends are sleeping in the trenches, there is silence on the steep bank.
Darling, give your little son a big kiss,
Know that I will always save you from harm.”
I read the letter and it’s like it’s getting closer and closer
That alarming dawn and the beating of soldiers' hearts.
I read the letter, and through the years I clearly hear
I now remember the words that my father said before the fight.
I read the letter, and the sun laughs outside the windows,
New buildings are growing, and hearts continue to love.
I'm reading the letter and I'm sure that if I have to,
Everything that my father did, I can always repeat.
Presenter 2:
War is a difficult and cruel test for the human soul. What helped to survive, endure, engage in a fierce, irreconcilable battle with everything.
Presenter 1:
Letters. The connection with home, the confidence that you are protecting your family, that they are waiting for you, gave you the strength to fight and believe in victory.
Those who were at the front, they probably experienced it,
What do letters mean to a fighter?
How these letters made you beat
Hearts hardened in battle.
How people waited for them with excitement,
Sometimes they made my eyes moisten.
The day will come - they will come up with medals
For kind letters for soldiers!
Presenter 1:
It is difficult to express in words how much pain, bitterness and tears befell mothers during the war? What an immeasurable weight has fallen on the fragile female shoulders! Women selflessly worked at machines, in the fields, together with the soldiers they forged victory, fed and clothed the defenders of the Motherland.
Presenter 2:
How did mothers worry about their sons who went to the front? How they kept their beloved sons warm, kind words in their letters.
The words in the line ran smoothly, straight,
And suddenly a distant image appeared through them.
Darling, as if alive, mother!
The soldier read the letter for the tenth time.
Worries, worries - how familiar!
All mom, in every word and line.
It seemed: press the letter to your cheek,
And you will feel the warmth and smell of home...
Presenter 1:
There is no person in the world dearer and closer than a mother. Her love for children is limitless. From a lullaby to last breath mother gives selfless love, affection, affection. And children should respond in kind - love, attention, care.
Presenter 2:
We treat with respect and gratitude the people who gray hair They reverently pronounce the mother’s name, protect her old age, and give her peace and joy.
In one village under a wide pear tree,
Just yesterday I heard the roar of the Panthers.
Wrote a postcard on the wing of a Katyusha
A tall, black-eyed officer.
The shells haven't arrived yet,
There is time to make a postcard.
He knew how happy mom would be
Receive a letter from your son from the front.
And I believed again and again
What will I find in each envelope?
Her mother's word
Her innermost: “I’m waiting!”
During these years I knew cool
That every line of the letter
Russia wrote with her,
Russia, Russia itself!
Presenter 1:
“Missing...”, “Fell the death of the brave...”, “Your son...”, “Your
husband...", "Your father...". An endless line of “funerals” came from the front. They burned hearts, dressed women in mourning, and orphaned children.
When I see someone killed
My neighbor falls in battle,
I don't remember his insults
I remember about his family.
It seems to me involuntarily
His deceived comfort...
He's already dead. It doesn't hurt him
And they will also be killed by letter.
Presenter 2:
How much the letters meant to those who were on the front line and to those who worked for victory in the rear.
Presenter 1:
The soldiers were eagerly awaiting them. Letters from a distant home warmed hearts.
Presenter 2:
And what patriotism flowed in the blood of every soldier. In letters to their relatives they said that if they did not return, they would die for their relatives, for their Motherland!
Hello dad,
I'm dreaming about you again
Only this time not in war.
I was even a little surprised
How old you were in the dream.
You will return unharmed
After all, the war will end someday.
My dear, my dear darling,
Soon the May holiday will come to us.
Of course, I congratulate you
And I wish you not to get sick at all, I wish you with all my soul
Defeat the fascists as quickly as possible.
So that they don’t destroy our land,
So that you can live like before,
So that they don't bother me anymore
Hug you, love you.
"Conversation with a Portrait"
My kitten is sleeping
Zoya doll is crying.
There is a boy Sashka in the yard,
He has a dog
And there is also a car,
And then there is dad.
And when will you arrive,
Mom promised
Me and my doll Zoya
Let's run to the station
I'll wear the best dress,
Like for a birthday
Mom will make us a cake
This will be fun
You and I will walk through the park
Let everyone see
That Katya's dad is at home,
And not in war.
Presenter 1:
In the lull between battles, front-line soldiers read and re-read lines written by a dear and close person, remembering their wives, loved ones...
Presenter 2:
Konstantin Simonov’s poem “Wait for Me,” dedicated to the poet’s beloved woman, Valentina Serova, was popular.
Presenter 1:
Written in 1941, already in February 1942, when under attack Soviet troops The Nazis retreated from Moscow, Pravda published this poem, which soon won the hearts of readers.
Presenter 2:
The soldiers cut it out of newspapers, copied it while sitting in the trenches, memorized it and sent it in letters to their wives and brides. It was found in the breast pockets of the wounded and dead...
Wait for me and I will come back.
Just wait a lot.
Wait when they make you sad
Yellow rains,
Wait for the snow to blow
Wait for it to be hot.
Wait when others are not waiting,
Forgetting yesterday.
Wait when from distant places
No letters will arrive.
Wait until you get bored
To everyone who is waiting together.
Wait for me and I will come back.
Don't be sorry for the good
To everyone who knows by heart,
It's time to forget.
Let the son and mother believe
In the fact that I am not there
Let friends get tired of waiting
They'll sit by the fire
Drink bitter wine
In honor of the soul...
Wait. And take it off at the same time
Don't rush to drink.
Wait for me and I will come back
All deaths are out of spite.
Whoever didn't wait for me, let him
He will say: “Lucky”
They don’t understand, they didn’t expect it,
Like in the middle of fire
By your expectation
You saved me.
We'll know how I survived
Just you and me, -
You just knew how to wait
Like no one else.
Presenter 1:
It is impossible to live without faith in love and friendship. This is ardently confirmed by Eduard Asadov with his lyricism, with bright power and expressiveness. The poem “I can really wait for you...” sounds like a response to the poem “Wait for me.”
I can really wait for you
Long, long and true, true,
And I can't sleep at night
A year, or two, and probably all my life!
Let the leaves of the calendar
They will fly around like leaves in a garden,
What do you really need?
I can follow you
Through thickets and climbs,
On sand, almost without roads,
Over the mountains, along any path,
Where the devil has never been!
I’ll go through everything without reproaching anyone,
I will overcome any worries,
Just to know that everything is not in vain,
That you won’t betray it later on the road.
I can give it for you
Everything I have and will have.
I can accept for you
The bitterness of the worst destinies in the world.
The whole world to you every hour.
Just to know that everything is not in vain,
That I love you not in vain!
"Random Waltz" (dance)
Presenter 1:
The dead bequeathed to us to protect the world. We draw strength from the heroic past of our Motherland to fight for peace. Our example is the feat of our grandfathers and great-grandfathers, who at one time did everything they could to protect and prosper Russia.
Do you think the fallen are silent?
Of course, yes - you say. Wrong!
They scream while they're still knocking
The hearts of the living and the nerves touch.
They scream not somewhere, but at us.
They shout for us. Especially at night
When there is insomnia in the eyes
And the past crowds behind you.
... They scream and wake us, the living,
Invisible, sensitive hands.
They want a monument to them
There was a land with five continents.
Great! She flies in the darkness
Rocket speed to the globe is reduced.
All residential. And walks on the ground
Barefoot Memory is a small woman.
Presenter 1:
May is and will be in our minds the neighborhood of Spring and Victory, Spring and Labor, Spring and Peace.
Presenter 2:
Listen: it is the May wind itself that is speaking to you now.
Presenter 1:
Turn around after the cloud moving above the ground, remember those who could have lived, but did not live to see today in May.
Presenter 2:
Think about those who will celebrate May without us - after us. It is for them that we must preserve the holiday of Spring and Victory.
Presenter 1:
Presenter 2: Wind of Victory.
Presenter 1: Wind of the World.
Presenter 2: Wind of Love.
Presenter 1:
There are fewer of us every year,
Passed through lead, fire and smoke.
I bless both men and women
Plant flowers, raise grandchildren.
No, not so that one day again
The earth groaned, burning alive,
And so that war is a damned word
Found only in dictionaries.
The song "Cranes" is playing
Script prepared
head of the library
Municipal educational institution secondary school No. 1
Olga Petrovna Rzhevskaya
Scenario holiday program, dedicated to the Day Victory "Music" front letter».
The stage is decorated in the form of a soldier's resting place (tree, stumps, fire, bowler hat, helmet, rifle).
Presenter:
Feather grass rings on the roads of Russia,
Like a bell of memory beating in the distance,
And the dawn plays in the sky in the morning
Again, peace and war are on the scales for people
Many years have passed since that terrible war
Dear sons did not return home,
But we remember them and mourn to this day.
We keep photographs of old houses.
In each of our families there is someone to remember,
Who remained forever in the steppes to fight
Well, those who returned and survived then
They have become a support for us in life forever.
Feather grass is ringing on the roads of Russia...
They will remind you of the sad date.
Good afternoon May 9 – Victory Day! And, of course, today’s program is dedicated to the soldiers who did not spare the most precious thing - their lives! If only she came...Victory. And about those who loved, faithfully waited and worked desperately, just so that it would come closer...Victory.
And they wrote letters to each other, so lively, so touching. How nice it is to see the glowing eyes of a soldier who has received news from home. Small soldier triangles can in one minute overcome fatigue, relieve pain, lift your spirits and give strength for further struggle, the fight for victory.
(3 soldiers come out, settle down and write letters)
Soldier 1: Hello, my Varya!
Soldier 2: Dear Masha!
Soldier 3: Dear Sonechka!
Soldier 1: I'm happy that I have you, Varya.
Soldier 2: You always supported me...
Soldier 3:….and here. Thank you, my dear!…
(3 girls appear with unfolded letters in their hands)
Girl 1: Thank you, dear! A man grows old, but the sky is forever young...
Girl 2:...like your eyes, which you can look into for a long time...
Girl 3:... and admire. They will never grow old or fade.
Soldier 1: Time will pass, people will heal their wounds...
Soldier 2:...new cities will be built...
Soldier 3:... new gardens will grow, other songs will be sung...
Girl 1:...other songs will be sung. We will have beautiful children...
Girl 2:...we will love each other...
Girl 3:...and live happily. Wait for me!
Soldier 1: Yours Ivan.
Soldier 2: Kiss. Shurik.
Soldier 3: Alyoshka.
(They leave with letters)
Leading: Russian soldiers and officers went into battle for them, their loved ones and relatives. The light and warmth of their home was carefully preserved in memory. And we still sing songs of those years about love and fidelity.
Song performed:
Words by Y. Galitsky, music by G. Petersburg “Blue Handkerchief”
Leading: Russian soldier! You stood to the death on the borders of our Motherland, transporting grain to besieged Leningrad, died saving millions of lives. Through time, those who will never return, who will never hug their loved ones, loved ones, children and grandchildren, speak to us. Never. How scary it is!:
Words by I. Shaferan, music by M. Minkov “My dear, if there were no war”
The Soldier comes onto the stage and sits down in the clearing to write a letter to his mother. At the same time, Mother comes out to the table in front of the stage and sits down at the table. He unfolds the soldier’s triangle and reads:
Soldier: Mother! I am writing these lines to you,
I send you my filial greetings,
I remember you so dear,
So good, there are no words!
For life, for you, for your native land
I'm walking towards the leaden wind.
And even though there are kilometers between us now,
You are here, you are with me, my dear!
Mother: On a cold night under an unkind sky
And together with you to distant victories
I will walk the soldier's road invisibly.
Soldier: and no matter what the war threatens me on the way
You know: I will not give up, no matter where I breathe!
I know you blessed me
And in the morning, without flinching, I go into battle!
Mother: I am with you to distant victories
I'll walk the soldier's road invisibly
On a cold night under an unkind sky,
Leaning towards you, I will sing a song.
Soldier: Mom, even if you didn’t fight in the war,
But I can say without hesitation
Like the blood of children shed in fire
Gives you a military rank forever!
After all, for us, at that time young fighters,
Perhaps I didn’t even fully dream it,
How difficult it was for our fathers because of us,
And what was going on in the mothers’ hearts.
Words by R. Rozhdestvensky, music by O. Feltsman “The Ballad of Colors”
Presenter: It would seem that all the hardships and suffering of wartime leave no room for songs...Nevertheless, the song always accompanied the soldier on a campaign, at a rest stop, in battle...The Soviet soldier liberated the soldier from the Nazis not only the homeland of his ancestors, his homeland, but was victorious marching across Europe, whose grateful inhabitants erected monuments to our soldiers.
Song performed:
Words by K. Venshenkin, music by E. Kolmanovsky “Alyosha”
The children come out.
1st: I want that on our planet
The children were never sad.
So that no one cries, so that no one gets sick
If only our cheerful laughter would ring.
2nd: So that everyone’s hearts become akin forever,
So that everyone can learn kindness
So that planet Earth forgets,
What is enmity and war?
3rd: You left us clear sky Fatherland,
Home, and road, and tender bread on the table,
You left us the most important thing in life -
The joy of learning in a peaceful, happy land.
Leading:
The war died down on a sunny day on the forty-fifth
And the victorious fireworks shone over the vast country
Everyone who beat the damned fascist mercilessly
Victory Day became related to that happy spring.
Tears, joys, laughter, kisses, hugs...
Everything merged together in that rapture of love!
People were drunk with great happiness,
What from slavery home country saved.
How many peaceful springs have ringed since then,
But no one is forgotten, who was killed in that cruel war
And they look from the photographs openly and boldly
Those who are no longer with us on our land.
Eternal glory to you, both the living and the fallen
Those who did not spare themselves for us in the fiercest battles
Those who gave their lives for our freedom,
For your house, which you saw in short dreams.
The war ended, the country was rising from the ruins. Devastation was becoming a thing of the past, and in its place came bright, passionate hope for a better future. People continued to live, love and, of course, sing. Let us remember one of our favorite post-war songs.
Words by V. Lebedev-Kumach, music by Dm.. and Dan. Pokrass "Moscow May"
Presenter: Years have passed and the sons and grandsons of those who won victory in the Great Patriotic War are now fulfilling their military duty.
Afghanistan, Transnistria, Karabakh, Chechnya, South Ossetia...there were a lot of them, so-called hot spots
Another country. Other songs. And a soldier, he is always a soldier.
Song performed:
Words by S. Sashin, music by K. Breitburg “Russian Guy”
Leading: Another country. Other songs. But also in that distant war, the soldier was waiting for letters. From relatives, friends, loved ones!
The song “Write me a letter” is performed
Leading: It is very difficult to fulfill your military duty far from your loved ones. The atmosphere in a soldier’s team, like in any other, is made up of correctly placed guidelines in communicating with each other, the ability to see the main thing and not get hung up on the little things. Appreciate the best human qualities and just be friends. And all this, as they say, comes from childhood.
Words by V. Shainsky, music by M. Tanich “When my friends are with me”
Leading: Of course, the program could have ended on this optimistic note. But...the program is dedicated to Victory Day and it would be strange if at the end of our concert you did not hear the famous song.
Song performed:
Words by V. Kharitonov, music by D. Tukhmanov “Victory Day”
Leading: But now we can safely complete our program. Happy holiday to you all! Happy Victory! Good luck to you, prosperity, health and, of course, peaceful skies above your head!
For festive events Victory Day very often requires concert programs that can be shown on the open areas of Houses of Culture or the stages of recreation parks, during moments of mass festivities on the occasion of this wonderful and beloved holiday, in these cases, one of the winning ideas for storyline The concert may be analogous to the performances of front-line brigades. We offer one of the options with entertainment and games - Scenario of the festive program for May 9 “Music of Victory”
Scenario of the holiday program for May 9
The ceremonial start of the program.
It is better to make the beginning of the program solemn and patriotic, for example, by turning on the block " Immortal Regiment"from this, and only then move on to the concert block.
Leading: The topic of our concert program We were prompted by letters from the front. Each of the letters from the front is fate. Behind every line - big life. And we understood the most simple truth: for all the people who created the Victory, and those who fought, and those who worked for the Victory, the main thing was peace.
Presenter: It seems that this is already clear. But remember, how many stories about the horrors of war have you heard from veterans? They didn't like to remember this. But they remembered their friends and sang songs of those years with pleasure. And what songs!
Leading: And your favorite war films tell not only about fear and pain. They have a place for both love and true friendship, And good humor. But many of these films were shot by people who lived through the forties, at the front.
Presenter: Yes, these films have everything: military brotherhood, internationalism, love for the Motherland, and faith in victory.
Leading: Do you remember Captain Titarenko, commander of the singing squadron? It is his words that will become the main leitmotif of this concert.
Presenter:“Who said that we need to give up singing in war? After a battle, the heart asks for music doubly!”
Leading: During the war years, 45 thousand artists went to the front. The front-line brigades included singers, musicians, actors, readers, and circus performers. They gave 1.5 million concerts in the rear and on the front line. There were up to ten concerts a day. Artists under bullets, risking their lives, raised morale Soviet soldiers and with songs they walked to Victory.
Presenter: Thank God, our land has not heard the sounds of war for many decades, and yet, perhaps on this day we should remember the songs of those years? Moreover, they are all life-affirming, and even funny. Exactly what you need at every holiday!
Performance of the "front" brigade
A “front brigade” appears: musician, reader, singer, “entertainer”. Specialties are conditional; each artist can be a reader, a singer, or an accordionist.
Reader:
Is reading poem “Who said that we should give up singing in war?”(Author V. Lebedev-Kumach)
The remade song of War Correspondents sounds
Lyrics
From Moscow to Brest
There is no such place
Wherever we wander in the dust.
With song and accordion,
And sometimes with a revolver
We went through fire and cold.
Without a sip, comrade,
You can't make a song,
So let's pour it a little at a time.
For everyone who spoke,
With an army of marchers,
Let's drink to those singing under fire!
How the soldiers walked
We weren't expecting flowers
And onto the stage, like the last battle:
With full dedication
Coped with the task
And we have another concert with you.
From the winds and vodka
Our throats are hoarse,
But we will say to those who reproach:
“Roam with us,
Spend the night with us,
Fight with us for at least a year!”
Where we've been
They didn't give us a stage.
Without spotlights, ramps and scenes
Let the suits be in tatters,
Morning, noon and night
We always performed as an encore!
So let's drink to victory,
For the circus and operetta.
But we won’t live long enough, my dear,
A new day will come
A friend will sing a song,
And he will remember you and me with it!
Reader:
Is reading poem "Wait for me and I will come back" (Author K. Simonov)
Song "Oh, roads"
Reader:
Is reading excerpt from the poem “Vasily Terkin” from the words: “To go into any fight” to the words: “Or some kind of saying.” ( Author A. Tvardovsky)
Front ditties
The ditties from 41-45 are performed, for example, the option below.
(download by clicking on the file)
Entertainer:
Well, friends, you sing beautifully.
Looks like we came in vain?
But as the poet said, “it’s not evening yet,”
And our meeting will not be fun.
Another poet said: Yes there were people
And in our time, there won’t be such people.
(Sorry, for the free interpretation),
And now we will test your dexterity.
Let's play partisans, are you ready?
The conditions are as simple as a horseshoe.
Team game - relay race "Partisans in the swamp"
PROPS: chalk if the surface of the site is asphalt, or a stick with which you can draw on the ground.
Two teams are participating. The goal is to pass through the swamp in a chain “footprint to footstep”. The teams line up one after another, the first one has chalk. On command, the first numbers walk along the distance, outlining their tracks, when the first numbers reach the other side of the “swamp”, the second numbers follow the tracks, trying not to fall into the “quagmire”.
The game is being played
Reader:
No, the word "peace" will hardly remain,
When there will be wars people will not know.
After all, what was previously called the world,
Everyone will just call it life.
And only children, experts on the past,
Having fun playing war,
Having run around, they will remember this word,
With whom they died in the old days.
Entertainer: The post-war generation of boys probably remembers that the most difficult thing when playing war in those distant times was to find an opponent. Nobody wanted to be either a fascist or a policeman. But being partisans is a completely different matter. So now you have your own invisible fighters. And how dexterous they are! It's time for a guerrilla song.
The song “Darkie” is performed if technically possible, a karaoke video is displayed on the screen
(download by clicking on the file)
Entertainer: Are there any successful scouts among you? Shall we check? We will not get used to the images of enemies. We simply form two teams of rivals, but capture the language. you still have to.
Game “Who will bring the most “tongues”?”
This is a team competition based on the game “Breaking Chains”, when one team stands tightly clinging to each other and shouts to the opposing team: “Forged chains, unchain us!”, And they ask: “Which one of us?” The one who is named runs with all his might, trying to break the “chains”; if he succeeds, he takes the strongest player and leads him to his team; if he fails, then he himself joins the ranks of the established team. Only in in this case conditions change a little. The teams line up opposite each other. Each captain appoints three to four “scouts” who, on command, must break the enemy line and lead the “tongue” away, or be captured.
The game is being played
Entertainer: I would also like to remember those who did not perform visible feats. Yes, they worked. "Everything for the front, everything for Victory!" - the slogan with which the whole country lived. But remembering losses and exploits, we often forget about those for whom these exploits were performed: mothers, children, loved ones - wives and brides who wrote letters, prayed, who waited. And it is no coincidence that a simple song about the love of a simple girl became a military symbol.
Song "Katyusha" or other concert number
Entertainer: No matter how much we would like to stay with you, friends, the trumpet is calling. After all, a front-line artist has many viewers. And it should be noted that in Peaceful time We are no less in demand. Especially on a day like this. We congratulate all residents on happy holiday, Victory Day. Let our common sky be clear, and the clouds be only stormy. Happiness to you, dears!
Girl reading poem “Children made the sun from their palms”(Author O. Maslova)
Concert number
Scenario of literary and musical composition on
topic "Front-line letters"
Goals:
1. Expand children’s knowledge about war; interest the unknown historical facts;
cultivate respect for the defenders of the Motherland; develop patriotic feelings and experience
moral behavior individuals, encouraging interest in the history of their country, small homeland,
sat down.
2. To contribute to the formation of students’ ideas about the history of correspondence, about
letters from the war years, as an integral part of the history of our country and our people.
Props.
For student fighters, army caps, for girls - postmen's bags. Letters,
which students read are folded into a triangle shape.
Decoration of the hall (stage, classroom).
It is necessary to place a screen in the center to display music videos. . Near
screen table covered with a tablecloth. On the table are army caps, triangle letters, a gramophone,
postman's bag. To the right and left of the screen there are several chairs according to the number of students participating in
scenarios. During the scenario, some students go to the center of the hall, some just stand up and
read their words from their seats. The sequence of actions is decided at “large” rehearsals. IN
10 people took part in the scenarios.
Musical arrangement.
1.
Presentations 12
2. Presentation Front letters
3. Fire curls in a cramped stove I. Kobzon (music)
4. Battle music
5. Computer. Projector screen
Progress of the scenario.
Presentation “Memory”1
Teacher: Good afternoon, dear children and dear guests, teachers of literature
Shatrovsky district. Many years have passed since the end of the Second World War, but
its echoes still reach us. These are the graves of unknown soldiers, shells and fragments,
trenches and funnels. This is both the memory of the surviving participants in the battles and the memory of those who
forged our victory in the rear. One of these monuments are soldiers' letters
"triangles". They are stored in treasured boxes and bundled folders. Reading these mean
lines, one can imagine how our victory over the brown plague of the last century was forged.
Our lesson on courage is dedicated to soldier triangles, and is called literary
musical composition “Front-line letters”
Slide1
2 Presenter
I know it's not my fault
The fact that others did not come from the war,
The fact is that they, who are older, who are younger
We stayed there, and it’s not about the same thing,
That I could, but failed to save them -
This is not about that, but still, still, still... A.T. Tvardovsky
1 presenter: There is no family that would not be affected by the Great Patriotic War. How we waited
letters from the front, these small yellow triangles were a guarantee that the one who sent them: the husband,
son, brother, beloved is alive and well, which means there is hope to see him alive. It was so scary
When letters stop coming from the front, it means the person is missing or killed.
Slide2
2 presenter: It’s difficult, very difficult to tell your beloved husband, son, brother when parting
"Goodbye". If only we knew in advance what would happen to them, our loved ones, there, in the war, in a fierce battle
with the enemy.
1 presenter: The rear was also like the front line. Everyone who remained in the rear took on the hardships of life:
worked 1618 hours, raised children. And they waited anxiously, waiting for news from the front.
2 presenter: Letters from the war years preserve the memory of those days. They had everything: short, mean
stories about the war and poems, photographs, if there was an opportunity to be photographed by a front-line photographer,
clippings from front-line newspapers, words of love for loved ones, they contained at that time
LIFE!
1 presenter
White flocks of letters
They flew to Rus'.
They were read with excitement,
They knew them by heart.
2 presenter
These letters are still
They don’t lose, they don’t burn,
Like a big shrine
They take care of their sons.
Slide3
The postal students come out.
1. Student postwoman: Letters from the front They did not come in envelopes, there were no stamps on them.
They were folded into triangles. Like this. (shows) There were others in my bag
letters written in laconic clerical handwriting: “Your husband (son, brother) has fallen
the death of the brave in battles for our Motherland.”
2. Student postwoman: We had to be hardy, patient,
merciful. We were the first to take to heart the first bursts of endless joy
or boundless grief.
Slide 4
2 presenter
They wrote them on the verge of death
Under the grinding of tanks, the roar of guns.
They wrote them in the trenches, dugouts,
On the bomb-scarred border,
On the streets of burned cities.
1 presenter
Oh, letters from the front lines of those terrible years -
There are no more priceless documents in the world!
1. Studentpostwoman
How to sort by quarters
Voices of all the living and the dead,
That they arrived like a roar of metal,
In half-erased triangles?
Only the address is on the envelope,
And in the envelope of life and death,
If only you knew, at the post office right there
What's inside there!
2 Studentpostwoman
Were you surrounded?
Alive? Found? Injured? Shell-shocked?
He fell, according to rumors. In the first battle...
But a girl comes in old
Mom's boots knocked to one side.
And takes all the blows of fate,
Someone's joy and someone's death.
1 studentpostwoman
The exhausted, tormented recipients were waiting for us with impatience and hidden anxiety.
2 Student postwoman: In addition to letters and newspapers, we always carried bottles of ammonia
alcohol.
There is no other way. We were both a post office and an ambulance.
1Student postwoman: There is joy in four letters, and a funeral in the fifth. It was great
grief.
We, hiding our eyes, swallowing tears, not finding words of consolation, felt our involuntary guilt for this
letter.
The “postwomen” take out triangle letters and hand them to the “addressees.”
Students in soldier's uniform write letters on a tree stump.
Battle music (sounds) explosions
Slide5
1 student soldier: “There are only a few of us left. Reinforcements will arrive in the evening, and we will fight until the evening
to the last drop of blood, but we will not give up our position to the enemy. Take care of your son."
2 student soldier “was on the front line. I crawled through it, and then counted 50 bullet holes in the overcoat. But
They didn’t cast the bullet that would have killed me. Don’t worry about me, mom, I’ll be back!”
1 presenter
On one front triangle there is a note: “Dear military censorship! Don't throw this one away
flower. I’m sending it for the girl I love.” And inside the letter is some kind of dried flower.
You look at him and tears come.
Student: Poem by I. Utkin “You are writing a letter to me”
It's midnight outside. The candle burns out.
High stars are visible.
You write a letter to me, my dear,
To the blazing address of war.
How long have you been writing this, my dear?
Finish and start again.
But I'm sure: to the leading edge
Such love will break through!
...We've been away from home for a long time. The lights of our rooms
Wars are not visible behind the smoke.
But the one who is loved
But the one who is remembered
At home and in the smoke of war!
Warmer at the front from affectionate letters,
Reading, behind every line
You see your beloved
And you hear your homeland,
Like a voice behind a thin wall...
We'll be back soon. I know. I believe.
And the time will come:
Sadness and separation will remain at the door,
And only joy will enter the house.
And some evening with you,
Pressing your shoulder to your shoulder,
We will sit down and write letters, like a chronicle of the battle.
Let's chronicle feelings...
Slide6
Teacher
The students of our school created the book “Memory of the Distant, but Alive.” Close and
fellow villagers told the bitter truth about the war days, about how scary it was to live during
war, even in the rear. With this project the guys wanted to thank all the people, soldiers,
who have gone through the hardships of war.
Letters from the front from the book “Memory of the Distant but Alive”
Letter from Shabashov S.I.
Letter from Nesterov I.F.
Letter from Rezepin I.E.
Slide7
2 Presenter
“I will return, wait for me”, these words often ended messages to relatives. In them, in these
in words, there was both hope and a spell. And faith in the victory of life over death.
Student. Poem by K. Simonov “Wait for me”
Wait for me and I will come back.
Just wait a lot
Wait when they make you sad
Yellow rains,
Wait for the snow to blow
Wait for it to be hot
Wait when others are not waiting,
Forgetting yesterday.
Wait when from distant places
No letters will arrive
Wait until you get bored
To everyone who is waiting together.
Wait for me and I will come back,
Don't wish well
To everyone who knows by heart,
It's time to forget.
Let the son and mother believe
In the fact that I am not there
Let friends get tired of waiting
They'll sit by the fire
Drink bitter wine
In honor of the soul...
Wait. And at the same time with them
Don't rush to drink.
Wait for me and I will come back,
All deaths are out of spite.
Whoever didn't wait for me, let him
He will say: Lucky.
They don’t understand, those who didn’t expect them,
Like in the middle of fire
By your expectation
You saved me.
We'll know how I survived
Just you and me
You just knew how to wait
Like no one else.
Slide8
1 Presenter
Only at the front will you test your best feelings,
2 Presenter
Only at the front can you measure the strength and strength of love.
Slide9
1 Presenter
How many poems and songs were composed at this time! One of these songs is a hymn of love and fidelity
the song “In the Dugout” appeared. These were 16 “home lines” from the letter front-line poet Alexei.
Surkov to his wife Sophia Krevs.
(Everyone sings while squatting around the fire)
Song “In the Dugout” (Music)
The fire is beating in the small stove,
There is resin on the logs, like a tear.
And the accordion sings to me in the dugout
About your smile and eyes.
The bushes whispered to me about you
In snow-white fields near Moscow.
I want you to hear
How my living voice yearns.
You're far, far away now
Between us there is snow and snow.
It's not easy for me to reach you,
And there are four steps to death.
Sing, harmonica, in spite of the blizzard,
Call lost happiness.
I feel warm in a cold dugout
From my undying love
Slide 10 FIGHT MUSIC
2 Presenter
Letters from the war years. They were written in moments of calm between battles, in the trenches, in craters from under
bombs. The authors did not think that after so many years their thoughts about the war would be published, so they
They didn’t pay attention to either the style of their letters or the language; they didn’t care then.
1 Presenter
The soldier walked in the impenetrable smoke,
And from all the roads and marinas
The eyes of his loved ones followed him silently,
And love cannot be imagined stronger!
2 Presenter
Letters warmed a soldier rising to attack in a cold trench, protected him from death and
instilled hope of meeting in the home...
Pupil
(Reads the letter.) “May my love save you! May my hope touch you. Will stand next to you
will look into your eyes and breathe life into dead lips! Press his face to the bloody bandages on
feet, will say: “It’s me, your Katya! I came to you, wherever you were. I'm with you no matter what
It happened". Let someone else help you, support you, give you something to drink and feed - it’s me, your Katya! AND
if death bends over your bedside, and you no longer have the strength to fight it, and
only the smallest one last force will remain in the heart - it will be me and I will save you!”
Slide11
1 Presenter
Day after day and year after year, soldier triangles marched from the front to the rear. And every time I read these
lines, you feel the thrill of meeting Memory. These pages are priceless. With trepidation and
The children waited with hope for letters from the front, dreaming of meeting their father. Many of them expected
hungry, cold post-war childhood.
1 presenter
In his painting “Letter from the Front” the artist A.I. Laktionov showed life Soviet people V
days of war. Its plot is simple. In some small Russian town at a wide open door
old wooden house The family of a front-line soldier gathered.
2 presenter
A wounded soldier brought the long-awaited news from the front. A boy reads his father's letter out loud,
carefully holding the expensive sheets of paper in front of you. Painted in light, jubilant colors, the picture
literally filled with the sun: the sky is pierced with golden rays, the girl’s blond hair...
The air itself seems to glow. The breath of the close and so desired Victory is felt in everything.
Slide12
Student Poem by E. Blaginin “To Dad at the Front”
Hello, dad! »
I dreamed about you again
Only this time not in war.
I was even a little surprised -
How old you were in the dream!
Same old, same old
We haven't seen each other for two days.
You ran in, kissed your mom,
And then he kissed me.
Mom seems to be crying and laughing,
I squeal and hang on you.
You and I started to fight,
I defeated you in the fight.
And then I give those two fragments,
What was recently found at the gate,
I tell you: “The Christmas tree is coming soon!
Will you come to us for New Year?”
I said, and then I woke up,
I don’t understand how this happened.
Carefully touched the wall,
She looked into the darkness in surprise.
It’s so dark, you can’t see anything,
There are already circles in the eyes from this darkness!
How offended I was,
Why did we suddenly break up with you...
Dad! You will return unharmed!
Will the war ever end?
My dear, my dear darling,
You know, New Year is really coming soon!
Of course, I congratulate you
And I wish you not to get sick at all.
I wish you - I wish you
Defeat the fascists quickly!
So that they don’t destroy our land,
So that you can live as before,
So that they don't bother me anymore
Hug you, love you.
So that above all such a huge world
There was a cheerful light day and night...
Bow to the soldiers and commanders,
Say hi to them from me.
Wish them every luck,
Let them attack the Germans day and night...
...I am writing to you and almost crying,
This is so... out of happiness... Your daughter.
2 Presenter
Slide13
The hardest thing is to inform your family about death at the front. close friend. About it -
poem “Zinka” by Yulia Drunina, dedicated to the memory of Hero’s fellow soldier
Soviet Union Zina Samsonova.
We lay down by the broken fir tree,
We are waiting for it to start getting brighter.
It's warmer for two under an overcoat
On the chilled damp earth.
You know, Yulka, I am against sadness,
But today it doesn't count.
At home, in the apple outback,
Mom, my mother lives.
You have friends, darling.
I only have one.
Spring is bubbling beyond the threshold.
It seems old: every bush
A restless daughter is waiting
You know, Yulka, I am against sadness,
But today it doesn't count.
We barely warmed up,
Suddenly the order: “Move forward!”
Again next to me in a damp overcoat
The blonde soldier is coming.
Every day it became worse.
There were no rallies or replacements.
Surrounded near Orsha
Our battered battalion.
Zinka led us into the attack.
We made our way through the black rye,
Along funnels and gullies,
Through mortal boundaries.
We didn't expect posthumous fame
We wanted to live with glory.
Why in bloody bandages
The blonde soldier lies
Her body with her overcoat
I covered it up, clenching my teeth.
Belarusian huts sang
About the Ryazan wilderness gardens.
You know, Zina, I am against sadness,
But today it doesn't count.
Somewhere, in the apple outback,
Mom, your mother lives.
I have friends, my love,
She had you alone...
The house smells like bread and smoke,
Spring is just around the corner.
And an old lady in a flowery dress
She lit a candle at the icon.
I don't know how to write to her
So that she doesn't wait for you.
1 Presenter
Slide14
– Letters written with pencil stubs in trenches, dugouts, hospitals reached
loved ones, as if “live”, from hand to hand, preserving the warmth of native fingers, hearts and souls. And sometimes
and didn’t get there...
Student Poem by G. Gorbovsky “Letter”.
At the bottom of a trench ravine
I got a shell casing from the wall.
And there is decayed paper in it,
a letter that came from the war.
Must be someone before the fight
wetted the graphite of the pencil
and with a smeared lip
I wrote, as I thought, slowly.
Handed the words to mortal paper,
wrote, leaning towards the wick.
...And so time devoured the words.
And only one thing comes through: “I love you”...
One thing remains... But stubbornly
burns through everything in life...
...What did he “love”?.. The Fatherland? Mom?
Or the one?.. God knows.
Loved it and that's it. Not by order.
And on orders he did that time.
He probably stood up and died immediately.
And then he rose again.
In my. Now
1 Presenter
War is a difficult and cruel test for a person. What helped to survive, withstand, enter
into a fierce, irreconcilable battle with the enemy? Of course... Letters. Connection with home, confidence that you
you protect your family, that they are waiting for you, gave you strength to fight and believe in victory. And every news from
front - this is both joy that the news about the soldier came and anxiety: “Did something happen?”, and letters
transported from home to peaceful pre-war times, warmed the soul.
2 Presenter
Those who were at the front, they probably experienced it,
What do letters mean to a fighter?
How these letters made you beat
Hearts hardened in battle.
1 Presenter
How people waited for them with excitement,
Sometimes they made my eyes moisten.
The day will come - they will come up with medals
For kind letters for soldiers!
2 Presenter
Letters were the light in the window for relatives, soldiers' triangles were carried from house to house, they
illuminated everyday life, gave strength, instilled faith in Victory, inspired to work. And also soldiers'
the letters created the image of a warrior, told about his feat, about his friends at the front.
1 Presenter Millions died so that there would be eternal peace.
2 Presenter
That’s why your heart aches so much when you hear reports of wars, be it Afghanistan, Chechnya,
Ukraine, Syria...
1 Presenter
The war has passed, the suffering has passed,
But pain calls to people:
"Come on people, never
Let’s not forget about this!”
Presentation “Memory 2” “Never forget!”
Teacher:
During the war, triangle letters connected the front and rear. I think the letters will be linked today
entire generations. And what impression the lesson made on you, I think we will find out when we check
homework.
Reflection.
D/Z:
Think about what words can and should be said to guys serving in the army or
those who have chosen the profession of officer. Write the words you wanted to address
defenders of the Fatherland. Maybe your parents will help you with this. Let your
words of sincere gratitude will become a small part of the unpaid debt of the living to
fallen, grateful descendants to those who preserved our Motherland and freedom, as well as
to those who perform this duty today. We will definitely send letters to the recipients
to our fellow countrymen.
Thank you for preparing for the event and for your cooperation during the lesson. Y'all today
worthy of good and excellent ratings.