World War II · Eastern Front10 min read

The Siege of Leningrad

Eight hundred and seventy-two days of hunger, and a city that would not fall.

Leningrad · 1941–44

A grand imperial city seen from hills where an army digs in to encircle it.

1941. Hitler's armies have swept deep into the Soviet Union, and one of their great prizes is the city of Leningrad — cradle of the Russian Revolution. But the Germans decide not to storm it. They will do something colder: encircle it, and starve it to death.

Crowds of civilians in a grand city square looking anxiously outward, barricades beyond.

By September the ring is closed. Nearly three million people — soldiers and civilians, including hundreds of thousands of children — are trapped inside, cut off from the world.

Snow falling on grand boulevards as shells burst among elegant buildings.

The Germans shell the city and wait. Then the first winter comes — one of the coldest on record — and with it, hunger such as a modern city has never known.

A thin hand receiving a tiny dark crust of bread, a frozen queue behind.

The bread ration shrinks to a few ounces a day, eked out with sawdust. People burn furniture and books to survive the cold. The starving die in the streets and in their beds.

Neighbors sharing a meager pot over a small fire in a freezing apartment.

A Leningrader

We have nothing. So we will share the nothing. And we will not give them the city.

A line of trucks driving across a vast frozen lake at dusk, ice cracking.

There is one fragile lifeline. In winter the vast Lake Ladoga freezes solid, and across the ice the Soviets run a perilous supply route — trucks driving through shellfire and cracking ice. They call it the Road of Life.

A truck half-sunk through broken lake ice as others steer carefully around it.

Over the ice come a trickle of food, and out go the weakest — children and the sick — though many trucks vanish through the ice into the freezing water below.

A gaunt orchestra performing in a grand hall by dim light before a thin audience.

Inside the city, life refuses to stop. Factories keep working. And in the starving, shell-battered city, an orchestra of half-dead musicians performs a new symphony — broadcast by loudspeaker toward the German lines, proof that Leningrad still lives.

A long, silent procession of sleds through deep snow under a colorless sky.

Month after month, winter after winter, the siege grinds on. The death toll climbs into the hundreds of thousands, then past a million — most of them starved.

A defiant flag flying over a battered but standing city skyline at dawn.

But the city holds. Through nearly nine hundred days of hunger and shellfire, Leningrad never surrenders.

Soviet soldiers advancing through snow to break the encirclement, relief flares above.

In January 1944, a Soviet offensive finally smashes the ring and lifts the siege for good.

Survivors emerging into pale sunlight in a scarred but living city, embracing.

The siege lasted some eight hundred and seventy-two days — one of the longest and deadliest in all of history. More died here, mostly of hunger, than in many entire wars. Leningrad had been starved, frozen, and shelled for nearly three years — and it had not fallen.

Sources

This story was adapted from the following. The illustrations are stylized depictions, not photographs of the events.

  • “Siege of Leningrad”, Wikipedia

    Overview, the Road of Life, and the death toll.

  • The 900 Days: The Siege of Leningrad, Harrison E. Salisbury (1969)

    Classic history of the siege.

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