The Leningrad blockade, a humanitarian catastrophe and genocide of the inhabitants of one of the largest metropolises in Europe, remains perhaps the most poignant page in the history of the Great Patriotic War, in whose shadow another event of colossal significance still lingers: the evacuation. In 1941-1944, about 1.8 million residents of the blockaded city were evacuated, as well as refugees from the Leningrad region and the Baltic republics. However, very little is known about the lives of this huge number of people who disappeared from the collective memory of the blockade as if the epic of their suffering ended the moment they set foot on the mainland. In the second volume of the “blockade” series, launched by the Prozhito Center for the Study of Ego-Documents at the European University at St. Petersburg with the collection “‘I Know That You Can’t Write Like This’: The Phenomenon of the Blockade Diary” (2022), the publishers turn to first-person accounts — entries made during evacuation hundreds and thousands of kilometers from Leningrad in the space from the Yaroslavl Region to the Kazakh SSR. Compared to blockade diaries (Prozhito’s staff counts more than 600 of them), the diaries of those evacuated from Leningrad are an extraordinary rarity. What survival strategies were the blockade survivors forced to choose in their new location? How did they interact with each other and with residents of the regions? What nostalgia did they experience for their abandoned hometown, dreaming of returning to where they had lost everything — loved ones, work, home? This edition includes the diaries of A. M. Grober-Rapoport (1899–1990), B. A. Kulikov (1922–1980), S. P. Meshcheryak-Bulgakova (1912–1992), V. N. Baronova (1921–?), V. V. Bystrova (1883–1981), and L. V. Morozova (Sablina) (1922–2008) — searing testimonies of the evacuation from besieged Leningrad, whose rescue from the oblivion of the past eighty years after the breakthrough of the blockade is a true miracle.