In the quiet village of Lebedyntsi, nestled amidst the picturesque landscapes of the Zhytomyr region, there lived the Subbotenko family during the harsh years of World War II. Like most residents of the Andrushivka district, Feodosiy Yakovlevich and his devoted wife, Maria Yefimovna, were people of the land—humble peasants accustomed to the hard labor of rural life. In their modest home, four children were growing up: three daughters—Anastasia, Olga, and Nina—and a son, Pavel. Each new day for this ordinary Ukrainian family began with caring for their household and for each other, while the shadow of a dreadful war loomed over their land, as it did over the entire country.
Their humble home stood on the outskirts of the village, in an area locals called Zherembivshchyna. Two Jewish families also lived nearby on the same street. When German invaders and their collaborators began hunting Jews in the area, Feodosiy Subbotenko and his family did not hesitate to offer help to their neighbors. At the first sight of policemen approaching the village, the Ukrainian family would immediately signal the Jewish families and hide them in their cellar, saving them from certain death.
In the cold March of 1942, fate brought another desperate soul to the Subbotenkos’ door. A young, wounded Red Army soldier, an escapee from German captivity, appeared at their home with a head injury. Having broken free from the grip of the Nazis, he wandered for some time before arriving in Lebedyntsi. There, in another part of the village, he happened to meet a local boy, Yura Shlapak. The wounded soldier asked the boy for advice on a safe place to stay. Without hesitation, Yura directed him to Zherembivshchyna, where he knew kind and trustworthy people lived.
Following the boy’s advice, the stranger reached the designated house. Crossing the threshold, he introduced himself as Ivan Khristyuk. At first, the unfortunate man asked the hostess for a needle and thread to mend his tattered galosh. Then, to everyone’s astonishment, he suddenly asked, “And where is your Nina?” By that time, Nina Subbotenko, the seventeen-year-old daughter of the hosts, along with her cousin Yulia, had already experienced great hardship—the Germans had tried to forcefully deport the girls to Germany for labor, but they had managed to escape.
Apparently, when Yura Shlapak spoke to the Red Army soldier about the villagers, he specifically mentioned Nina’s escape story, presenting her as someone completely trustworthy. In the Subbotenko household, the wounded soldier found more than just shelter—the family helped him repair his shoes, fed him modest peasant food, and arranged for him to sleep in the hayloft.
A few days later, the soldier was forced to reveal his secret. This happened after a torturous epileptic seizure—a cruel consequence of the severe head injury he had sustained. The first people he confided in were the seventeen-year-old Nina Subbotenko and her cousin Anton Zelinsky. Ivan Khristyuk was, in fact, Yakov Bogorad, a Jew from Kyiv. Tormented by the fear that another seizure might inadvertently reveal his identity and endanger the family sheltering him, Bogorad decided to be honest with those who had shown him kindness.
Hiding a fugitive prisoner of war, let alone providing refuge to a Jew, carried the risk of inevitable retribution for the family. Policemen prowled the villages like predators, hunting escaped prisoners, Jews, and young people for forced labor in Germany. But despite the mortal danger, the family made a decision: Bogorad would stay under their roof.
Yakov Bogorad was born in Kyiv on February 22, 1921, into the family of Zalman Vulfovich Bogorad, a government employee, and his wife, Leia Lipmanovna Livshits, who managed the household. Yakov’s school years began in Kharkiv, where he studied at School No. 44 starting in 1929. In 1935, after his father was transferred for work, the entire family—his parents, brother Mark, sister Rakhil, and Yakov himself—returned to Kyiv. There, Yakov graduated from Secondary School No. 144 and, in 1939, was drafted into the army. He began his military service in the 68th Reserve Regiment in Vologda, from where he was sent to the Finnish front in 1940, joining the 146th Bogun Rifle Regiment of the 44th Rifle Division named after Shchors.
Yakov met the beginning of the Soviet-German war right at the border. As early as June 22, he was forced to engage in combat. Fate was merciless—in August 1941, during the battle near Uman, he was severely wounded in the head and ended up in a hospital on territory occupied by the enemy. Yakov’s life was saved by a resourceful nurse who managed to destroy his documents. His appearance worked to his advantage—fair-haired and not resembling a Jew, he also spoke Ukrainian fluently. In the infamous “Uman Pit,” or Stalag 249, he successfully passed himself off as a Ukrainian from Zhytomyr, Ivan Danilovich Khristyuk. Under this name, he secured his release.
Once free, Bogorad decided to make his way to the village of Chervone near Zhytomyr, a place familiar to him from his military service. However, another trial awaited him—on the way, he was caught in another roundup. After several days, all the prisoners were driven to a railway station and crammed into cattle cars.
When the train started moving, Bogorad decided to act without delay. Asking his comrades to hold his legs tightly, he leaned out of a small window and managed to reach the wire securing the car doors. Moments later, the doors were flung wide open, and the Red Army soldiers began jumping out one by one as the train sped along. Among them was Yakov. This happened near the Brovky siding, not far from Lebedyntsi, where he soon arrived.
While staying with the Subbotenko family, Yakov—now called Yan by the family and later Ivan by his rescuers—usually found shelter in the barn. This arrangement continued until May 1942. Once his wounds had somewhat healed, he asked Nina to introduce him to reliable people.
Together with her brother Pavel Subbotenko, they herded other people’s cows. Finding a job as a shepherd turned out to be relatively easy—Uncle Syla and Alexandra, relatives of the family, were short on workers. Soon, Yakov arranged for lodging and meals with the Plakhotnya and Hagich families. Varvara Plakhotnya even showed special care by sewing Yakov trousers from homespun fabric.
Over time, a group of local youth began to gather around Yakov Bogorad. At first, they met at Anton Zelinsky’s house, where he had assembled a crystal radio set, and at Vasya Subbotenko’s home, trying to catch news from the other side of the front. Gradually, their circle expanded: they were joined by village boys—Yura Shlapak, sailor Tolik Khodakovsky, Nikolai Kolinkov, Viktor Filipsky, Konstantin Romanovsky, Tolik Gaburets, Bolik Vent, a graduate of a medical college, and KPI student Valya Andrusenko. Even Anton Zelinsky’s classmates from the nearby village of Yareshky were drawn to the group.
Their gatherings were cleverly disguised as ordinary village get-togethers: Vasya and Ivan Subbotenko played the balalaika, the girls danced, while the boys sat aside, quietly discussing their plans. Yakov, who had earned the nickname Ivan the Shepherd, quickly gained the trust of the youth—he always had answers to difficult questions and knew how to lift everyone’s spirits.
Through Nina Subbotenko, Bogorad soon met her cousin Olga Seredyuk, who introduced him to the underground resistance. Olga arranged a meeting between the former Red Army soldier and Sergey Malenko, a representative of the Kyiv Regional Party Committee and organizer of the partisan resistance in the area. Malenko entrusted Bogorad with an important task—to form a sabotage group. Although Malenko himself soon perished, the seeds of resistance he planted grew strong.
On May 1, 1942, at the grave of a fallen Soviet pilot named Makarov, an event occurred that would shape many lives: the youth of Lebedyntsi agreed to form a sabotage group to fight the occupiers. Ivan was unanimously elected commander—his military experience was invaluable. Nina Subbotenko took on the role of liaison, and Anton Zelinsky became the group’s political commissar.
In late June 1942, troubling rumors spread of an impending roundup—the Germans planned another forced deportation of youth to Germany. Ivan the Shepherd proposed a proven hiding spot—an abandoned collective farm apiary deep in the forest. For four tense days, the group stayed there until the danger passed. Ivan remained remarkably calm as always, telling funny stories, singing, and even whistling opera arias to help his comrades overcome their fear and anxiety. The future saboteurs emerged from their first trial unharmed.
Soon, the group gained a new member—a former military nurse, Ksenia Zakharchuk. In the Zelenaya Brama ravine in the Kirovohrad region, she had been encircled and, after six months, managed to escape and return to her own people. Local girl Valya Andrusenko, having carefully probed the situation, connected the nurse with the partisan group, showing her how to find their commander—Ivan the Shepherd.
In June 1942, a meeting at the Zelinsky household stirred memories of the past. When Ksenia saw Bogorad, she froze in shock—she remembered Yan from the Finnish front. The young commander, briefly turning pale, stepped toward her and said, “I am Ivan the Shepherd.” Ksenia instantly grasped the situation and, without betraying their prior acquaintance with so much as a gesture, accepted the new rules of the game. Secrecy demanded absolute discretion—no one, not even their own comrades, could know the true identity behind the name Ivan the Shepherd. Only three people shared the secret: Zakharchuk, Zelinsky, and Nina Subbotenko. Yakov Bogorad avoided appearing on the streets as much as possible, and when he needed to venture out to connect with partisans, he relied on disguise: he donned a women’s dress borrowed from Anastasia Subbotenko and covered his head with a scarf.
The sabotage group was officially part of the partisan detachment named after V.I. Chapayev, and Bogorad was listed as the commander of an independently operating sabotage group. The group, numbering 45 fighters, operated in the Vcheraishensky and Andrushevsky districts. The underground fighters, led by Yakov Bogorad, lived an intense life: intercepting reports from the mainland via radio, distributing leaflets, acquiring weapons, and transferring them to the forest. A significant asset was Valya Andrusenko, who managed to secure a job as secretary at the Khalaimgorod Forestry Office under Petro Prokofievich Bekh. Bekh, a German by nationality and an underground operative, enjoyed the complete trust of the occupying authorities.
Gradually, the group moved on to bolder operations, targeting enemy equipment and personnel. Railway sabotage became their specialty. Their most high-profile operation, in every sense of the word, took place on March 18, 1943, at 11:20 PM—an explosion derailed a locomotive on the Chernorudka-Sestrenovka section, paralyzing traffic in both directions for an extended period.
During the group’s activity, they derailed twelve enemy trains carrying ammunition, aerial bombs, and troops. The saboteurs skillfully alternated their tactics, sometimes damaging the tracks, sometimes staging explosions. The boldness and scale of their operations created the impression among the enemy that a large partisan unit, likely transferred from across the front lines, was operating in the area.
Alarmed by the scale of the sabotage, the Germans eventually tracked down the group and captured four of its fighters. Learning that the prisoners were being held at the barracks of the Vcheraishensky checkpoint near Brovky station, Bogorad decided to take a desperate step. Together with two loyal comrades, Yuri Shlapak and Yuri Pastukhov, he devised a plan for their rescue.
The attack began with a grenade assault on the guards, but at that moment, the partisans saw that the commandant of Brovky station, a man named Yakub, had unexpectedly approached the checkpoint. The partisans managed to shoot him, but the noise drew attention, and they found themselves under heavy fire from the checkpoint. In the heat of the battle, Pastukhov was wounded in his right hand. Despite the sharp pain, he continued to lead the operation and managed to extract the group from the firefight. The first aid for the wounded commander was provided by Ksenia Zakharchuk.
After the injury, Bogorad found refuge in the attic of nurse Alexandra Kosobutskaya’s house in the village of Nekhvoroshch. He was saved from the advancing gangrene by Valentina Andrusenko’s aunt, who managed to arrange for his admission to a hospital under a false name.
Unfortunately, the group was not always fortunate. In battles with the Nazis and during Gestapo punitive operations, the partisans suffered heavy losses. Yuri Shlapak, Anatoly Khodakovsky, Viktor Filipsky, Konstantin Romanovsky, and Petro Bekh did not return from their missions.
By the end of December 1943, the Zhytomyr region was finally liberated from the Nazi occupiers. Yakov Bogorad sought to rejoin the active army, but military doctors were unyielding—sixteen wounds, many of which had left him disabled, spoke for themselves. “And so, I am wounded. Yet again. But of the serious wounds that have made me an invalid, there are two or three,” Bogorad later wrote in his unfinished memoirs.
The commander of the partisan group remained in the village of Lebedyntsi. There, he soon received joyous news—his parents were alive and had returned to their apartment in Kyiv. During the years of occupation, the Bogorad family, along with the younger children, had been evacuated to the distant Udmurt city of Sarapul.
Yakov Bogorad’s combat achievements were highly recognized: in May 1944, he was awarded the Order of the Patriotic War, 1st Class, and later, the medals “For Courage” and “For the Victory over Germany.” However, the former commander of the partisan group was not focused on accolades. In October 1944, Bogorad came to the Cabinet of Jewish Culture at the Academy of Sciences of the Ukrainian SSR with a different purpose. Tormented by the need to prove the heroic resistance of Jews during the war and driven by a desire to restore historical justice, he passionately recounted the struggles of Jewish partisans, insisting on the necessity of immortalizing their heroism in scholarly publications.
His emotional speech did not go unnoticed. According to reports from Agent Serafimov, who was monitoring Jewish intellectuals on behalf of the NKGB, Bogorad’s appeal was actively discussed at a Cabinet meeting. Leading Jewish scholars and writers—including Spivak, Loytsker, Maidansky, Beregovsky, Lerner, Kagan, Balyasnaya, Shkarovsky, Gutyansky, and others—responded to Bogorad’s plea and the call of Ilya Grigoryevich Ehrenburg to gather materials for The Black Book, a documentary account of Nazi atrocities against the Jewish people.
Gradually, life returned to a peaceful rhythm, healing the wounds of war. On November 10, 1946, a new chapter began in the lives of Yakov and Nina Subbotenko—they became husband and wife. Yet, peacetime brought its own challenges: Bogorad was denied not only a return to active military service but also admission to his desired faculty of international relations. Instead, he enrolled in the Polytechnic Institute, where endless technical drawings proved especially difficult for his injured right hand. Eventually, Bogorad left the institute and began searching for work. Fate then took an unexpected turn—he became a journalist for the Pravda Ukrainy newspaper and the republican radio. Though surprising at first glance, it wasn’t entirely unexpected; Bogorad had always possessed an extraordinary gift for words.
In 1948, when Nina was expecting their first child, Bogorad decided to reclaim his real name and nationality. Seeking advice, he arranged a meeting with none other than Sydir Kovpak—the Deputy Chairman of the Supreme Soviet of Ukraine and the legendary partisan commander affectionately called “Batya” by his fighters. However, after listening to Bogorad, Kovpak gave fatherly advice: “Don’t do it. In these times of the campaign against cosmopolitanism, it’s better to remain Ivan Danilovich, just as you were in the partisan detachment.” Inside, Bogorad burned with anger and a sense of injustice, but he understood—his right to take reckless actions had ended the moment he became responsible not just for himself, but also for the life of his wife and their unborn child.
In 1951, Yakov Bogorad joined Radyanska Ukrayina. A member of the Union of Journalists of Ukraine, he wrote about many facets of Soviet citizens’ lives. His journalistic routes took him to the country’s major construction sites. Readers also knew him not only as the author of sharp satirical pieces but also as a sports columnist—at one point, he even ran a football column.
Bogorad left behind an impressive legacy—over 400 publications spanning various genres, from in-depth analytical articles to sparkling humorous sketches. For serious works, he signed as I. Bogorad, Y. Bogorad, or I. Pastukh, but when turning to satire, he transformed into Buslyk or Salivon Tyrsa.
In Kyiv, life brought Yakov Bogorad together with writer Viktor Platonovich Nekrasov. Their acquaintance grew into a strong friendship. Bogorad’s story left a mark on Nekrasov’s work—the surname of the protagonist in one of Nekrasov’s most poignant stories, The Second Night, was Bogorad. Although neither the appearance nor the storyline mirrored the real Bogorad’s life, the character of Lyenka Bogorad, a naive and pure young man thrust into the war, carries traces of Yakov Bogorad’s character and fate.
Bogorad’s integrity is reflected in a story often recounted by art historian Mikhail Faktorovich, who was also a friend of both Bogorad and Nekrasov. Back in his school days, during the height of the repressions, when the father of one of his classmates was arrested, only Yakov Bogorad had the courage to vote against expelling the daughter of a “people’s enemy” from the Komsomol.
This principle, of course, followed him into journalism. Viktor Nekrasov admired Bogorad’s dedication to every letter sent to the editorial office. On one occasion, Pravda Ukrainy received a letter from a war veteran who had lost both legs, asking for help obtaining a wheelchair. Unable to help directly, Bogorad shared the story widely until it reached someone who could provide the necessary funds. Learning of this from a friend, Nekrasov didn’t hesitate to pay the 3,000 rubles for the wheelchair from his recently received Stalin Prize. But the friends didn’t stop there—they came up with the idea to help other disabled war veterans. Bogorad drafted an appeal to the government, signed by Stalin Prize laureates Korneychuk, Vasilevskaya, Gonchar, Pervomaisky, and Nekrasov. Their voices were heard—wheelchairs began to be provided to war veterans free of charge.
The last two years of Bogorad’s life were dedicated to working on his memoirs, but he did not have time to finish them. On July 22, 1984, Yakov Zalmanovich Bogorad passed away after a prolonged illness, leaving behind his wife, his son Vladimir, and his daughter Zoya. When news of his death reached émigré circles in Paris, Nekrasov sent a short but deeply heartfelt telegram to his widow: “Ninka, I’ve been crying all day. Vika.”
Fourteen years later, on July 28, 1998, Fedosiy and Maria Subbotenko, and on February 25, 1999, their daughter Nina Subbotenko-Bogorad, were posthumously awarded the title Righteous Among the Nations—the highest honor recognizing the heroism of those who saved Jews during the Holocaust.
The story of Yakov Bogorad and the Subbotenko family is one of humanity triumphing over fear during the darkest times, a testament to true courage transcending nationality. A Jewish partisan who stood in defense of his land and a Ukrainian family who risked their lives and the lives of their children to save a stranger—their bravery symbolizes the profound truth that in the face of a common enemy, all people are equal, and compassion is stronger than hatred.
The editorial team of Jewish Heroes extends heartfelt thanks to Ukrainian journalist Margarita Yakovleva, author of the project The Word of the Righteous, for providing the materials.
28.11.2024
Bibliography and Sources:
Righteous Among the Nations: Nina Bogorad (Subbotenko); Father: Fedosiy Subbotenko; Mother: Maria Subbotenko // Yad Vashem Archive, Case M.31.2/7414.
Bogorad (Subbotenko) Nina Fedosiivna // Righteous of Ukraine.
The Circle of Viktor Nekrasov’s Friends – Kyiv: Ivan Bogorad // International Internet Project “Viktor Nekrasov Memorial Website.”
Operational Case “Circle” of the 2nd Directorate of the MGB of the Ukrainian SSR, 3rd Department, 3rd Division, April 2, 1945 (September 22, 1944) – May 28, 1949. – OGA SBU, Kyiv, Fund 65, Case S-6974, Vol. 1.
Awarding of Ivan Danilovich Bogorad with the Order of the Patriotic War, 1st Class // The Database “Feats of the People in the Great Patriotic War 1941-1945.”
Yuri Vilensky. Ivan, also known as Yanya // Jewish Observer, No. 02/266, February 2015.
Yakov Bogorad
1921 – 1984
