Laying flowers at old memorials, unveiling new ones, and children meeting with bandits in uniform - recently, Crimea celebrated the Russian propaganda holiday “Day of the Hero of the Motherland”. How do residents of the occupied peninsula feel about such holidays and the “heroes” themselves? СEMAAT asked the Crimeans themselves about this.

“Sovok as it is. A few officials, some pensioners with carnations and schoolchildren in an honor guard. In fifteen minutes, they performed all the necessary rituals, gave interviews to the propagandists and scattered in different directions,” describes one of the residents of Feodosia the unveiling of memorial steles dedicated to the paratroopers who participated in the aggression against Ukraine and were liquidated.

In Simferopol, the number of celebrations was limited to the opening of a thematic photo exhibition on one of the central streets. “People have been approaching the stands since the morning,” a Russian propagandist broadcasts to the camera against the backdrop of completely deserted banners with fictional heroic stories of the invaders. Later in the story, Crimean collaborator Albert Kurshutov says something about setting an example for the future generation, while behind him people indifferently pass by the exhibition without even turning their heads toward the photos.

“The holiday is exactly like its heroes” smiles a resident of Yalta, talking about laying flowers on the local Hill of Glory. According to her, the crowd of twenty people was barely provided by employees of children's clubs and libraries. “They clearly knew that no one was interested in it, it was their holiday, and that no one would go to that hill. So they gathered as many state employees as they could to report that they had organized a mass event,” my interlocutor does not hide her disgust.

“I especially liked the one about 'a debt of gratitude to the heroes of the Armed Forces,'” she laughs and recalls how two months ago, on the waterfront, City Council member Storozhuk broke one of the ‘heroes’ jaw and the base of his skull, and then the deputy's father kicked and dragged the soldier on the asphalt. However, no patriotic cries like “we will find everyone and ask everyone”, which the local “patriotic community” is so fond of uttering, have been heard so far, and the criminal case has been frozen - probably as a sign of “gratitude”.

The main “festive” events were experienced by Crimean schoolchildren. In many classrooms, “memory desks” were opened, at which allegedly sat the now liquidated “heroes,” and children were forced to communicate with the still living participants in the Russian aggression.

“It was like a beggar. He was telling me something so boring that I didn't listen to him, and no one else did either. I only remembered that we are supposed to help the volunteers by donating money,” one of the Simferopol high school students shares his impressions of the ‘lesson of courage’ with SEMAAT. “But he looks like he's going to drink all that money right away, so I didn't give him anything,” the boy laughs.  

Parents had no alternative to “volunteering”. Several mothers and fathers from different regions of Crimea told CEMAAT that they were obliged to donate money or buy food and thermal underwear for the needs of the AFU soldiers in parental chats. Apparently, material support for the “heroes” was part of the reporting measures for the management of children's institutions.

Another part of the reports were letters that the children were obliged to write to the Russian military. As a teacher at a Crimean school explained to CEMAAT, she was ordered to force her students to write letters by the principal. The number of letters “to the military zone” is one of the indicators of the school management's performance.

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