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Sevastopol remembers

Except for its location there is nothing remarkable about Malakhov Hill.
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Except for its location there is nothing remarkable about Malakhov Hill. But with a commanding view of both Sevastopol and its harbour this modest height of land on the south coast of the Crimean Peninsula has witnessed some of the most horrific battles in the annals of warfare. From the Crimean War of 1854-55 through the Great Patriotic War (WW2) of 1942-45 and the white-knuckle years of the Cold War, Sevastopol has been on the front lines of the conflict. And the legacy of those past wars is now an integral part of the city's landscape. More than 1,400 monuments are dedicated to the city's military heritage - some hidden away in secluded parks, others visible from far out at sea.

As the Lomonosov swung into Artillery Bay I got my first glimpse of the Eagle Column standing atop an offshore rock and on Khrustalny Cape to my right the towering "Hero City" obelisk and the giant bronze figure of two soldiers dominate the skyline above the dock. The Eagle Column, Sevastopol's signature landmark, is dedicated to the ships that were scuttled by Russian sailors to block the harbour entrance during the Crimean War and the obelisk commemorates the city's heroic defense against the Nazis during World War II. As for the Cold War, the warships of the Black Sea Fleet, some Russian some Ukrainian, are reminder enough of those tense years when Sevastopol was a "closed city."

We began our tour of the city with an obligatory stop at the memorial honoring admiral Nakhimov, one of the Russian commanders during the Crimean War. That brief but brutal conflict began when the British, alarmed at Russian military conquests in the Black Sea region, formed an alliance with France and Turkey and sent an expeditionary force of 67 warships and 64,000 men to confront the Russians. The Alliance quickly occupied most of the Crimean Peninsula - except for Sevastopol. There the Russian defenders dug in on Malakhov Hill and, despite continuous shelling and repeated infantry assaults held their ground for 349 bloody days.

At the head of South Bay we left our van and climbed up Malakhov Hill to the Panorama Museum, which celebrates the siege of Sevastopol with a giant diorama. From a platform at the centre of the huge circular building viewers have the illusion of standing on top of the hill on June 6, 1855 when the outnumbered Russian defenders repulsed an attack by British and French troops. In the foreground full sized replicas of cannons, dugouts, and the churned up wreckage of war blend seamlessly into a background painting that wraps around the interior walls. The canvas, painted by Russian artist Franz Roubaud, is an incredible 14m high by 115m long and includes more than 4,000 human figures. But the victory depicted in his painting was short lived. Less than three months later the Malakhov redoubt was overrun by Alliance forces and with its collapse the Crimean War ended. At the Treaty of Paris in 1856 the wreckage of Sevastopol was returned to Russia. Only 14 of its original buildings were still standing. On Malakhov Hill every living thing had been destroyed and every square metre of ground contained a ton of spent ordinance.

On our way down Malakhov Hill we paused for a closer look at some of the massive, muzzle-loading cannons used during the siege. "Loading one of these things was a dangerous business," Olga, our local guide explained. "Swabbing out the barrel, ramming in powder, packing and shot all had to be done from the front in full view of the enemy, and it was a slow process. A crack crew, working flat-out could get away about 12 rounds an hour."

A short distance farther along the trail we passed the relic of another conflict. The slim gray barrel of a rapid-fire naval gun faces the harbour - a reminder that only 85 years after the Crimean War ended Malakhov Hill was again under siege. Sevastopol was the first Soviet city attacked by the Nazis when they launched their offensive against Russia in the autumn of 1941. The German generals expected to get the city out of the way quickly and continue their advance into the heartland of Russia. But, as they had before, the defenders of Sevastopol dug in and fought back. Despite daily aerial bombardment and artillery shelling, including fire from the massive Schwerer Gustov railway cannon, the Russians refused to budge. The siege lasted for 250 days and when it was over the city was again in ruin.

There are at least a hundred memorials to the heroic defenders of Sevastopol during World War II but the one that caught my eye is a modest stone pillar topped with the brass replica of an airplane dedicated to the "Night Witches." The Nachthexen, as the Germans named them, were the all-female pilots of Russia's 588 th Night Bomber Squadron. Using obsolete, open cockpit, wood and fabric biplanes the women of 588 flew thousands of missions behind enemy lines and, despite heavy losses themselves, they inflicted almost nightly disruption of Nazi supply lines.

Sevastopol was liberated from the Nazis in 1944 but before the carnage of World War II could be cleared away the city again came under siege - not from guns and bombs this time, but from the paranoia of the Cold War. As home to the Black Sea Fleet the city was strangled by Soviet security. No one, not even Russian citizens, could enter or leave the city without security clearance from the Soviet military. And it remained a closed city for more than 30 years.

The Cold War Museum in the nearby town of Balaclava captures the mood of those tense years. When the Soviet Union collapsed in 1991 its top-secret submarine base at Balaclava was abandoned and a few years later opened to the public as a museum. The entire complex is underground and as I passed through the massive blast doors I felt as though I was entering a James Bond movie set. But this is no work of fiction. The maze of dimly lit channels, bunkers and interconnecting tunnels is the very real legacy of a world gone mad. The underground base has moorage for nine submarines, a complete dry-dock and repair shop, plus bunkers for conventional and nuclear weapons. And in the event of a nuclear strike it had its own source of power, a sophisticated air filtration system, and enough supplies to feed and water 3,000 of the chosen for several months.

The last of the military checkpoints into Sevastopol was abandoned in 1992 and the Black Sea Fleet, so long wrapped in secrecy, now shares the waterfront with tourist boats and freighters. No one gave me a second glance when I stopped to photograph a Russian submarine tied up to one of the docks. Sevastopol has now been at peace for almost 20 years but the warships in its harbour and the hundreds of war memorials in its parks are a constant reminder of its tragic and heroic military past.

Before leaving the city I retraced Olga's route up Malakhov Hill - past the hulking cannons of the Crimean War and the memorial to the Night Witches of World War II. Near the top I paused to have another look at Olga's favorite memorial - a new sapling sprouting from the war-ravaged stump of an ancient olive tree killed during World War II. "It's a symbol of new life springing from old," she had said. And in many ways that simple, living memorial is a more powerful tribute to Sevastopol's will to survive than all of its stone and bronze memorials combined.