Problem, gradually turning into a tragedy, is that we don’t know our recent history well.
Old cemeteries were the most interesting places I visited in Boston, Prague and Lviv. Tombstones can tell much about the city and the era: names and surnames (real destinies), religion, status of a person.
There are no ancient cemeteries in Russian cities. I know at least three graves in Syktyvkar, which are now paved. There are dozens of such cemeteries in Moscow, hundreds in the country. Recently I was in Yoshkar-Ola in the national Museum of the Gulag, so there is a pile of tombstones’ pieces in one of the halls, some of which were found during the knocking down of some kolkhoz storage (plates were sawed into bricks and used for walls), another part was accidentally discovered while digging the foundation for an apartment house.
No cemeteries — no tangible clues to connection with the real lives of the people buried there. The history of the twentieth century is the history of political myths. The real history is buried in mass graves and paved cemeteries. The real history is hidden in countless secret archives, which no one thought to open for study even 70 years later.
June 22, 1941 the greatest tragedy in the history of Russia began. Why did tragedy become possible first, and then occur? There is no final response from historians. The main reason is the same — protected military archives.
But if you want to better understand the events of the summer and autumn of that year, I recommend you to spend Sunday on reading Mark Solonin http://www.solonin.org/