Soviet soldier of the Afghan war. Part of 1

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Soviet soldier of the Afghan war. Part of 1


Victor Emolkin was born and grew up in a deaf Mordovian village. Before the army, he finished school with difficulty, worked as a tractor driver on a collective farm, and as a turner at a factory. It seemed that he would follow in the footsteps of many of his classmates, most of them drunk at a young age.



But the urgent service in the Airborne Forces and the war in Afghanistan completely changed his life. For one and a half long years, he fought with a sniper in the famous Guards 350 Guards Parachute Regiment of the 103 Airborne Division. He participated in dozens of combat exits, was surrounded. Once the spooks tried to capture him. But he did not give up, and was ready to blow himself up with them with a grenade. And survived ...

After the army, the village boy graduated from the full-time department of the Law Faculty of Leningrad University and became a successful Petersburg lawyer, a partner of a large law firm.

Victor Emolkin kept his Orthodox faith in his heart all his life. He never once deviated from the difficult path that the Lord God had prepared for him. And God always kept him on this path ...

An ordinary airborne troops Viktor Nikolayevich Emolkin tells:

- Afghanistan for me is the best years of my life. Afgan radically changed me, I became a completely different person. There I could die a hundred times: when I was surrounded, and when I was in captivity. But with God's help, I was still alive.

In the area of ​​special attention

Service in the Airborne Forces I, like many, began with the fact that in the seventh grade I watched the film “In the zone of special attention”. And after him, I was so charged with love for the Airborne Forces! Cut out from newspapers and magazines everything that they published about paratroopers, wore tarpaulin boots (my grandmother taught me how to tie footcloths), every day she pulled herself up on a horizontal bar. Physically, I was almost fully prepared for the service, and, moreover, in the village you walk constantly or walk, or ride a bicycle. It was not difficult for me to go twenty-five kilometers from the village to DOSAAF, where I studied as a driver.

The guys laughed at me - after all everyone wants to serve in the Airborne Forces, but it was unrealistic to get there. When I was called, only eight people from all of Mordovia were taken. I myself understood that, but it caught fire very strongly. Later I realized that the Lord led me, having read such a great desire in my heart.

I finished school in 1983 year. First he worked as a tractor driver on a collective farm, then he studied at a technical school for a turner. And I left the collective farm to the technical school because I was attracted for theft. Knives and aluminum forks were stolen in the collective farm canteen. Who needed them?!. Indeed, in the village they do not eat with forks, only they lie in the dining room. Nobody eats them there either! But someone stole it.

I was told: “You came, it means you stole. Admit it! ”And they took it to the police. They say - either you pay twenty-five rubles a fine, or you get fifteen days. Me: "Make out fifteen days." How will I confess if I didn't steal? An investigator who came from the ministry saved me with some kind of verification. He sat, listened to me, listened ... And I explain everything to him that they either eat or use aluminum spoons in the village or with wooden spoons. Nobody needs these forks. He told me: go out into the corridor. And I hear him yelling at a local policeman: “You kidnap a kid for fifteen days! Think with your head - who needs them, these forks! What are you eating? ” That: "Spoon." The investigator tells me: "Go home."

I was so this history I am shocked that I wrote a letter of resignation from a collective farm and went to Saransk to see my sister. I walk there through the streets, I do not know what to do before the army. In the end, decided to learn from the turner. They were given a deferment from the army, so the first time I was taken to the army was only in the autumn of 1984.

In the regional assembly point, it turned out that I was sent to serve in the sea fleet for three years. And I didn’t want to go to the navy, I was just killed by such a turn of affairs! Then they told me that there was some kind of captain with whom it was possible to come to an agreement. I went to him: “I want to serve in the landing troops!”. He: “Yes, it was already sent to the landing forces. Now only until spring. ” I: "Yes, I do not want to morflot!". He: "You will bring a liter of vodka - I will organize it."

Behind the gate stood a sister, she went to the store and bought two bottles of vodka. I zanykal them in pants, dragged and gave the captain. He gives me a military ID and says: "Get out through the window of the toilet, there is a path - you will go out to the station along it." I came to my military registration and enlistment office and said: “They didn’t take it, here’s a military ID - they gave it back”

In the village at that time, they were accompanied to the army very magnificently: with a concert, with an accordion. From house to house went, seeing off the guy. That is how they accompanied me. And then I come back, for some reason they don’t take me. Relatives: “Strange ... Everyone is being taken, but you are not. Okay…".

Two weeks later, sending again. At the assembly point they say to me: to the infantry. First near Ferghana, then to Afghanistan. I had the rights of a tractor driver, so I was scheduled to be taken as a driver tank or BMP.

But in Afghanistan, I especially did not want to! Five of our village served there: one died, one wounded, one died. Well, I did not want to go there at all! I go again to the same captain, I prepared the vodka in advance. I say: “I do not want to Afghanistan! In the Airborne Forces want spring call. Are you organizing? And I show vodka, my sister brought it to me again. He: “Well done, you think! You'll be fine in the army. ” Again I go through the field to the station. In the draft board I say - again, do not take!

In the autumn there was no more agenda. But in the end of December they invited me to the military registration and enlistment office - will you go to DOSAAF to study driver? I say: "I'll go." And January 10 1985 of the year began to learn.

I studied at DOSAAF for about six months. There came to us the colonel, the head of the assembly point of the whole of Mordovia. He was a paratrooper! I went up to him, and I myself think: surely everyone will laugh again if I ask for the Airborne Forces. But he still asked: “Comrade Colonel, I dream of serving in the Airborne Forces. How do I get there? He: “Very difficult. Sending will be 10 May, I'll try to help you. ”

There is no agenda and no. Therefore, on May 9 I myself went to the district military enlistment office. They say: “What, you were stunned - did you come? We invite the summons. " And they forced the floors to be washed first, and then painted some room. I realized that nothing shines for me, and I went all in. I say: "Actually, my relative is your boss." I remembered the surname, name and patronymic of the colonel. They: "We will call him now." The colonel picks up the phone, the captain reports to him that he is calling from a certain area and asks: “Do you have relatives here?” And then our boyfriend says that you are his relative. ” Colonel: "There are no relatives." The captain shows me a fist. I: “Tell me that in such and such DOSAAF we talked with him for the last time, the last name was such and such, I was still asking for the Airborne Forces! He forgot, probably! ” And then a miracle happened, the colonel played along to me: “Send him to me so that he is here urgently!”

I arrived in Saransk in the evening, so I came to the assembly point only on 10 in the morning of May. A set in the Airborne took place on the eve. The colonel says: “Everything, I can’t do anything. But ask the major who is gaining, maybe he will take you. ” I came up: “Comrade Major, take me! So I want to serve in the Airborne Forces, just dreamed of! I am a tractor driver, and I have driver's rights, I was engaged in Sambo wrestling. You will not regret!". He: “No, go away. I already got eight people. ” And I see military tickets in his hands.

And at the assembly point a few hundred people stand. Everyone began to shout: "Take me, me!". After all, everyone wants to serve in the Airborne Forces! I was so upset, got a lump in my throat! He walked away, sat down on some steps in the corner. I think: “Lord, I only want to serve in the Airborne Forces, nowhere else! What should I do now, Lord? ” I literally did not know how to continue to live. And then a miracle happened.

The major dropped all eight to say goodbye to their parents. They went out of the gate and there they drunk well. The major builds them in an hour, but they are drunk as a lord: they are barely standing, swaying ... He calls the name of the first one: “Peel?”. - "Not". Again: "drank?". - "Yes". Then: "How much?" - "One hundred grams." And the guy is barely worth it. Major: "I seriously ask." - "Three hundred grams." - "And exactly?". - "Half liter…". And so everyone takes turns, everyone eventually admits. And here comes the turn to the last. He boldly replies that he did not drink - and that's it! And himself drunk in an arc, barely standing. Major gets his military ID and gives - hold! The guy, not yet understanding what's the matter, takes the military ticket.

And the major begins to look into the crowd. Then everyone around realized that he had turned off the guy! The major crowd immediately surrounded the sea of ​​hands: “Me! I, I! .. ”. And I am standing on the steps and I think - what a noise, what is happening there? Then the major saw me and wave his hand - come here. At first I thought that he was calling someone else, looked around. He told me: "You, you! .. Fighter, come here! Military ticket where? "". And the military ID was already taken away from me. - "On the fifth floor". - “A minute of time. With a military ticket here, fast! ”. I realized that I had a chance. Ran for the ticket, but do not give it away! “What is a military card? Get away from here! Now you will paint the floors. " I am a colonel: "Comrade Colonel, they decided to take me to the Airborne Forces, but they do not give me a military ticket!" Now he". He took the ticket, gives it to me: “On, serve! To make it all good! I: "Thank you, Comrade Colonel!". And bullet down. I myself think: "Lord, if only the major did not change his mind!"

I run up and see the heart-rending scene: the guy whom the Major had rejected, is on his knees and crying: “Forgive me, I'm sorry! I drank! Take me, take me! ” Major takes me a ticket: "Stand in line!". I got up, everything was trembling inside - what if he changes his mind? For himself: "Lord, if only he did not change his mind, if only he did not change his mind! ..". And here the major says to the drunk guy: “Remember - you are not important in the Airborne Forces in principle. You can drink, dare, do anything. But such liars like you are not needed in the Airborne Forces. ”

Major to me: “Say goodbye to your parents? In the bus! ". We sat down, and the major still walks outside. And that guy walks behind him, even around the major guys ask: "Take me, me! ..". And while he was doing something for about thirty minutes, I was worried and could not wait - I would rather go!

Finally, the major got on the bus, and we drove off. The crowd saw us off, everyone looked with envy, as if we were lucky and we were going somewhere in the heavens ...

The major asked us how we wanted to go: in a compartment or in a train for soldiers. We - of course, in the coupe! He: "Then of chervontsu with everyone." It turned out that he had booked three compartments in advance: two for us and a separate one for himself. And we went to Moscow, like white people, in a company train. He even let us have a little drink. Sat with us. We asked him about midnight about everything, everything was interesting for us. Actually, I was driving and pinched myself every five minutes: I do not believe it! This is some kind of miracle! I still got to serve in the Airborne Forces! And when they drove off, my mother stood at the window of the car and cried. I told her: “Mom, why are you crying? I'm going to the Airborne Forces! .. ”.

In the morning we arrived in Moscow, the train to Kaunas only in the evening. The major let us go to VDNH, drink a beer. From Kaunas, we arrived by bus to the village of Rukla, the “capital” of the Gaižiunai Airborne Training Division. There are three regiments in the forest, a mass of training centers, and a take-off area. It was here that the film "In the zone of special attention." And every time I watch this wonderful film for the hundredth time, I remember: here I stood on guard, this is the very store that the bandits robbed in the film, and we bought Buratino in it. That is, I got exactly in the place from which my dream of serving in the Airborne Forces began.

Training book

I took a cross with me to the army, my grandmother gave it to me. In the village we had all crosses. But before sending, I didn’t want to take it, I even turned it into a ball with a string and put it to the icons. But grandma said, “Take it. You are welcome!". I: "So they will take it all the same!" She: "Take it for me!" I took.

At school, at first, they began to distribute us who was good. It was necessary to run a kilometer, then pull up on the crossbar, make a lift with a coup. I was eager to scout. But as a result I got into the 6 th company of the special purpose battalion of the 301 th paratrooper regiment. As it turned out, the battalion was being prepared to be sent to Afghanistan ...

After checking the physical training we were sent to the bath. You enter the bathhouse in your clothes, the doors are closed behind you. And you go out already in military uniforms. And then they check you demob - they are looking for money. I put a cross with a string under the tongue. I had fifteen rubles, I folded these papers several times and squeezed them between my fingers. I have checked all the demobels, then: “Open your mouth!”. I think - probably find a cross. I say: "I have money here." And I give them my fifteen rubles. They took the money - free, come through. And when they came to the unit, I sewed a cross under my buttonhole. So, I walked up to the demob itself with this wired cross.

On the second or third day, the battalion commander built us. I still remember how he walks in front of the line and says: “Guys, do you know where you got?!”. - "To Army…". - "You are in the Airborne !!!". Sergeants: "Hooray-ah-ah-ah! ..". Then he told us that we would go to Afghanistan.

The sergeants say: "Now we will check who is who!". And we ran a cross six kilometers. And I have never run such distances. The legs are normal, but there is no respirator! A kilometer and a half later I feel - everything inside me is burning! Barely sawing somewhere in the back. Then one guy stopped, runs up: "Listen, have you ever ran that distance?" - "Not". - “What are you doing? You soon spit up lungs with blood! Come on, we will put a breather. Run with me in the leg and for every knock of your feet, inhale with your nose. ” And we ran. It turned out to be a guy from Cheboksary, a candidate master of sports in athletics.

He gave me a breath very quickly. We ran along with him for another kilometer and a half. I felt better, I began to breathe. He: "Well, how? Feet - ok? " - "Fine". - "Let's catch up with the main crowd." Caught up - "Listen, let's overtake them!". Overtook - "Let's catch those ten!" Caught up - "There are still three of them!" Again caught up. That he had such a tactic. Says: “After five hundred meters finish. Meters for three hundred rush, because all rush. " We rushed, and at the finish I also overtook him, came running first.

It turned out that I have a “physics”. This guy taught me how to run, but as a result, then I myself could never overtake. But he turned out to be non-envious, he was glad that I did it. As a result, I ran the best in the company. And I did it all. After all, every morning I began to train. Everyone smokes, and at this time I swing, I hold the bricks so that my hands do not shake when firing.

But when the first cross we both ran first, the sergeants came up and one of them hit me like that! And after six kilometers I’m barely breathing. I: “For what?”. He: “For that! Do you understand why? ” - "Not". He once again to me - melons! I realized!". But in fact, I was not clear. I ask everyone - for what? I first came running! No one understands either.

After the second cross (I ran in the top ten), the sergeant punched me again: “The most cunning one?”. And "Kolobashka" - on top of bang! .. - "Understood, for what?". - "Not!". - "What are you, like a hundred Chinese stupid, like Siberian boots!". So many new expressions have heard: I am a hoarse-dog, and the Mongol is some kind of utter. I still do not understand! I say: “Well, I'm guilty. Dumb, rustic - but I do not understand: why! ”. Then the sergeant explained: “You know that you run the best. You must help the weakest of all! Airborne - is one for all and all for one! Got it, soldier!?. ”

And as soon as a cross or a march of fifteen kilometers, I drag the weakest. And the kid, whose mother was the director of a confectionery factory in Minsk, ran the worst. Once every two weeks she came to us and brought a pile of chocolate with her, the company car was completely packed with them. Therefore, this guy ran in sneakers. All in boots, and he - in sneakers! But still runs the worst. I stop - he clings to my belt, and I drag him along. I forward - he pulls me back, I forward - he pulls me back again! We come running thirty minutes after all. I just fall, my legs don't go at all. How, then, it was hard and seemed like an unnecessary burden. But then I thanked the Lord - because in this way I pumped my legs! And in Afghanistan, this is very useful to me.

The first two months I didn’t shoot well: from a machine gun, from a machine gun, and from a BMP-2 gun. And for those who shot at deuces, there was such a procedure: a gas mask on the head, two suitcases in hand. And seven and a half kilometers from the shooting range - in the regiment run! You stop, pour out the sweat from the gas mask, and then - tyn-tyn-tyn ... But in the end one sergeant still taught me to shoot.

Our sergeants were generally very good, from Belarus. I remember the company goes into the outfit. Sergeant: "Those who wish - two people in Vilnius!". - "I-II-I want! ..". And we are standing next to a guy from the Crimea, he is also from the village. We decided - let's not rush, we will go there. ““ There are so many people in the district center, so many people in the cafe — you need to take something to the city. ” Then: "Two people - a pigsty." Silence ... And we are rural. - "Let's go!". - "Come on". Further reads: “Two people (me and a guy from Crimea) go to Kaunas. The rest is to dig trenches! ” It was very funny.

Next time everything is the same: wanting to go there? Silence ... The sergeant asks us: "Where do you want to go?" There is a barn, there is this, there is this ... ". And we, the village, in the barn - a pleasure! They cleaned the manure, milked the cow, drank the milk, and went to sleep in the hay. And the place is fenced, the cows on the fence still will not leave.

I studied poorly at school. At the final exam I was even given a deuce and should have been issued not with a certificate, but with a certificate. But due to the fact that I was left to work on the collective farm, the chairman of the collective farm agreed: I was still given the top three and was given a certificate. And here in the army I became the best soldier, an example for others. I have learned by heart all the instructions, all the rules of the daily, guard. He ran the best of all, learned how to shoot perfectly, hand-to-hand fighting was obtained, the VDK (airborne complex. - Ed) was the best. And after five and a half months I was recognized as the best soldier of the company.

But there were parachute jumps ... Almost everyone had jumps before the army, but I never jumped. And then one day at three in the morning they raise a battle alarm! At four in the morning - breakfast. Then they drove by cars towards the village of Gaižiūnai, from there - a march through the woods. And at about ten in the morning we arrived at the airfield. There our cars have already been brought by parachutes.

It so happened that the day of the first jump coincided with the day of my birth. All cadets on their birthday were given leave, and you do nothing, go to a cafe, just walk. The officer stops you: "Stop, where are you going?". - "I have a birthday today". Without talking - free, go for a walk further. And here in three nights rise, march and the first jump! But the next day such an event is not tolerated ...

We got into the corncob, an An-2 plane. There were ten of us. And all experienced, one - in general, three hundred jumps! He: “Well, boys! Trumpeting?!. All species do not serve, I also try to keep. After all, by that time I was among the best!

I jumped in height and weight in the fourth. Everyone is smiling, joking, and I even could not squeeze a smile out of myself. The heart is tyn-tyn, tyn-tyn ... I say to myself: “Lord! I have to jump, I have to jump! I am among the best. What happens if I don't jump? Shame for life. I was so eager in the Airborne! I will jump, I will jump! .. Nobody breaks ... I will force myself! ” So to myself and talked to the very siren. And when she played, I saw that they were all frightening ...

Previously, twice in a dream I saw hell. Such a dream - you fall into the abyss with incredible fear! .. This fear is in my brain and sat down. (It was then that I learned that you see such dreams when you grow up.) And this very fear attacked me on the plane! We got up, checked that everything was zipped. I strictly according to the instructions grabbed the ring with my right hand, with my left - the “spare tire”. The instructor commands: “The first one went, the second one went, the third one went ...”! I walked with my eyes closed, but at the very doors I had to open them: according to the instructions, you must put your foot in a certain way and then dive along. And I see that there are no clouds at the bottom - and there is nothing further! .. But thanks to the instructor - he helped me practically: “The fourth one has gone! ..”. And I went ...

But as soon as he flew out of the door, the brain immediately started working. Feet tucked under him so that they are not tied over the outgoing lines during the tumbling. “Five hundred and twenty-one, five hundred and twenty-two ... five hundred and twenty-five. Ring! Then - a ring in his bosom! ". This I gave myself such orders. I noticed that the heart, which was incredibly beating on the plane, after a jump after a second, stopped knocking like that.

A strong jerk, even my legs hurt! The parachute opened. And in my head the instruction is spinning: cross your arms, see if there is anyone nearby. And then came such bliss! .. Around the guys are flying. - “Vityo-yo-yo-yok, welcome-yeee! Co-oh-oh-oh-oh, welcome-ee! ". Someone sings a song.

But as soon as I looked down, I immediately frantically grabbed the lines - the earth was near! Landed normally. But due to the fact that I was nervous, I still had a “bearish disease” in the air! I think: "Faster to fall to the ground, but closer to some bushes!". He put out the parachute strictly according to the instructions: he pulled the lines over himself, then abruptly let go. And then he quickly took off everything and ran into the bushes! I sit there ... Bam! Near the boots fell. Only here it dawned on me why the paratroopers tied shoelaces on the tops of their boots. Collected parachute. I walk across the field. Next - boom! This ring with a cable fell, someone threw it away, but did not push it in the bosom! And I already took off the helmet. Immediately he pulled it over his head, and also put the parachute on top.

Here, in the forest, they gave us badges, chocolates. And they were given three rubles each, put to the soldier for each jump. The officers were paid ten rubles. It immediately became clear why everyone was so eager to jump. After the first jump for half a month, my mood improved, as if additional forces appeared. (In total, I had six or eight jumps. In Afghanistan, of course, there were no jumps. At first, the command was planning to organize. We even prepared, collected parachutes. But on the appointed day, the jumps were canceled - they were afraid that the spooks could ambush.)

One of the seven guys with whom we were called up from Mordovia came to serve with me in the same department. We even had beds nearby. I thought: "What a blessing that there is a countryman nearby!". After all, the village guys are much harder than the urban ones to leave home. At first it was very hard, just unbearably hard. He turned out to be a good guy, and we constantly communicated with him. His sister worked as a nurse at a hospital in Kabul. And she wrote him such scary letters! The censorship accurately read the letters to the citizen and did not miss many things. And these were letters between military units, so, probably, they reached. In general, the soldiers from the school were allowed to correspond with the soldiers who had already fought in Afghanistan.

We read the sister's letters together. Sister wrote that almost eighty percent of children suffer from hepatitis, twenty-five percent of the injured, ten percent of cripples, a lot of those killed. She wrote to him: "I do not want you to serve here!". And after three and a half months, her brother broke down ... I went to the regimental commander, showed the letters and said he did not want to go to Afghanistan. Commander: "Do you want a remrot, in a permanent composition?". - "Want!". And two weeks later he was transferred to the remrot. I was worried - we became good friends with him.

And after some time, he began to persuade me: "Let's stay, let's stay ...". I think that he, having dodged Afgan, was looking for an excuse for himself that he would not be the only one.

We, the cadets, went very clean and tidy: they washed, washed the form ... And he came from the remroty covered in fuel oil, black, sleepy - he was driven there by demobels like a goat. And we in the training company and demob was only one. The sergeants, of course, drove us, but such hazing, as in Remrot, was not.

My friend went to the regimental commander: “I have a countryman, Victor. He and turner, and generally serves well. Maybe leave him too? ” The regimental commander invited me: "Do you want to serve in Afghanistan?" - “Yes, I don’t really want to be honest,” - "Do you want to stay?". - "Well, you can stay ...". “Okay, we will order you.”

Shortly before, my mother came to visit me. I called her myself. Although basically I, like everyone, was against the arrival of the parents. I'm not a sissy! But I went to Afghanistan, where they might kill me. I wanted to take a picture with her, say goodbye. She did not know that we were cooked in Afghan, and I was not going to talk to her about it. (By the way, almost to the very end of my service, she never knew that I was serving in Afghanistan.)

Mom came with my sister's husband. They ask: "Where will you serve later?" - “Send to some part.” But the next day, when my mother came to me, she saw a sobbing woman at the checkpoint: her son was taken to Afghanistan! .. Mom also burst into tears. Says: "And my son does not go to Afghanistan." “And in what company does he serve?” - "I do not know". - "And what is the letter?". - "E". - “And mine also has an“ E ”...”. “And mine said that the whole company is going to Afghanistan!”

I come - mom sobs. "And you, it turns out, you are going to Afghanistan, hiding from me!" “Mom, I'm not going to Afghanistan.” And she tells me a conversation with that woman. I ask: "What is her son's name?". - "So-and-so." “Yes, he is coming, and they send me to another place.” I think to myself: “Well, the goat ...”.

My mother and I walked all day. In the evening I come to the regimental commander: “Give me some piece of paper that I am not going to Afghanistan, my mother will not survive this.” The commander called the clerk, he wrote that I was sent for a year and a half to Bratislava in Czechoslovakia. The commander signed the stamp set. I brought paper to my mother: “Here you are! This is an order that I am going to serve in Czechoslovakia, calm down. ” Mom was so happy!

I returned the paper to the regiment commander. He: "Well, calmed down?". - "Calmed down." Ripped, and me: "Okay, go." Then I went to the guy from whom everything went. - “What are you, stunned? Tell your mom that I’m definitely not going to Afghan! ”

Here the regiment commander issued an order that I remain in the permanent composition in the remrot. But when the order took place, I felt that something was wrong here ... It was too dreary to the soul. Many did not want to go to Afgan, but nowhere to go. And I have always been an example, walked in a straight line. And then somehow dodged, wagged.

Two weeks before sending, we were given marks, and I saw that I was among the best soldiers of the regiment. Everyone congratulated me. And right there they brought an order to the company that I remain in permanent composition. All: “Witek, we are so glad that you stay! Not shirked, plowed like Carlo's dad. Come on, Vitek! We will correspond. If someone is killed, we will write to you ... ".

I put together a backpack, began to say goodbye, and suddenly tears began to flow from me: “My God, these guys have become closer to me than my relatives!” Some also had tears in their eyes. I come out of the company, this is the fourth floor. Began to go down the stairs, I feel - my legs do not go. My conscience began to stifle me, I did not have enough air. It became so bad ... I think: "Is it me, the best soldier of the company, dodging from Afghanistan? I can't do that! ” There was a clear feeling that they were all going to heaven, and I was leaving paradise.

He threw his backpack right on the landing and ran to the regiment commander. - “Comrade Colonel, is to blame! Sorry, save me! ” And there some officers were sitting. He: “Soldier, I remember you. What happened?". - "Save!". - "What do you want?". - “Send to Afghanistan!”. - "Why?". “I can't, my conscience is choking me.” I want with the guys!

He: "Wait." Went, got my folder from the archive. Dug, dug (and there were already fifteen sheets written on me), pulled out a statement that I wanted to stay in the unit. - “On, tear it!”. I ripped. - “Write a statement to Afghanistan. I, such and such, want to go to Afghanistan of my own accord. Sign the date set. I put a statement in my folder: “Take it, give it to the Afghan group. You will go to Afghanistan. ” I: "Thank you! ..". - "Wait!".

The colonel walked out with me and uttered the words that I remember all my life. I have never heard such in my address. At school, they just cursed me, called me names. And the colonel said: “You know, I talked to you and understood - you have very strong moral qualities. You can withstand any load, any test. Never be afraid. If it is very difficult for another and he cannot do something, know: you are stronger than him. It will help you. ” He hugged me: "Serve well, do not let our regiment down!" - “Thank you, comrade commander!”. And ran to his.

On the stairs I grab a backpack, run into the company. - "Vitek, what happened?". - "Guys, I'm going with you to Afgan! ..". And here we again embraced to tears ... Then I went to the countryman to the remrot: "Forgive me, Oleg, but I'm going to Afghanistan." “It’s a pity, of course, that I’m alone here.” Together it would be more fun. " - "Yes, but I can not."

I thought then that I had escaped the first providence of God - I had refused the difficulties of three years of service in the fleet. But then the Lord increased the difficulties even more - go to Afghanistan! But I myself wanted to be in the airborne troops, I wanted to test myself. And the Lord gave me this opportunity. But he gave the direction - Afghanistan. And I decided to avoid it! And, interestingly, the Lord gave me a choice (I could avoid these difficulties). But at the same time, He gave me a conscience and with this saved me. If I had shrunk from Afgan, I would have definitely died, I would have become a completely different person, I would have broken, like many of my fellow countrymen, could not live a normal life if I had ceased to respect myself.

Fly to Afghanistan

A couple of weeks we were put in a two-story amphibious IL-76, and we flew to Kirovobad for a long time. It was cold in Gaižiūnai, and getting out of the plane is twenty seven degrees of heat! Gave suhpayki, we ate something and flew further to Fergana. Out of the plane - the dark, can not see anything. We stood on the airfield, we stood ... They say: we will spend the night in the Fergana landing regiment. Let's go there on foot. We go, we go through the desert, we go, we go ... So they walked either fifteen or seventeen kilometers.

We lived in the regiment for three days, slept in some terrible conditions. After all, we came from the cultural Baltic! And here the conditions are like in Afghanistan: water flows only from some holes in the pipes, the toilet is outside.

We were told that the delay in sending was due to a hurricane, the plane could not get on. And then it turned out that the day before they had shot down a plane with demobels. We, of course, did not say anything.


Three days later, on foot again came to the airport. They put us not in a military plane, but in a civilian Tu-154. The plane flew at maximum altitude, because then the Stingers had already appeared (a portable anti-aircraft missile system manufactured in the USA. - Ed.). The mountains from above seemed so small. Indescribable beauty! But when they flew up to Kabul, something unimaginable began. The plane began to land in a steep helix with a dive. It felt like we were just falling! They sat down, we looked out the windows - around the Middle Ages, the hills were covered with mud huts. There was a feeling that we had failed by a time machine three hundred years ago.

Directly at the ramp met demobels, which on this plane were supposed to fly away. Mature such: black from the sun, in the parade, with medals, with aglets! And everyone in the hands of diplomats (small, small suitcases) are the same. - “From where? Is there anyone from Perm, from Irkutsk? .. ”. We go down, they shout: “Hang on, sons! This is the end for you! ”

The transit point was about two hundred meters away. An officer came for us there: "For me!". Immediately began the artillery unit. She was at the very end behind the runway (artillery regiment of the 103 Vitebsk Airborne Division. - Ed.). Through the "art gun" we came to the "Fifty" (350-th regiment of the 103-th division of the airborne troops. - Ed.). They brought us to the club, we sat in the hall. "Buyers" came: - "So, first to the reconnaissance division." I shout: “I, I want!”. “Okay, come here.” Where did you study?". - “In the sixth company in Gaijuna”. - "No you can not. We only take the scouts. " - "Ka-a-ak?!.". But still, from my platoon one guy got, Volodya Molotkov from Cherepovets (he, thank God, was still alive). They did not get the scouts, but he was the closest.

And I'm still torn and torn! To me, one “buyer” says: “Why are you always rushing somewhere?!.”. - "I want to fight in the company, to fight!". - "Then you will go to my 1 th company." So I got into the 1 division of the 1 platoon of the 1 squadron of the 1 battalion of the 350 regiment. And the 1-I company is always the first to parachute, the very first one rises into the mountains and the very first one captures the hills. And if the 1-i company rose above all, then the 1-th platoon in it went farthest and rose above all and from there reported to the regiment what was going on around.

Together with us came the "Ferghans", the soldiers from the training regiment in Fergana. Outwardly, we were very different from each other. We are all mordovoroty, blood and milk. After all, we in school were fed like slaughter: chocolate butter, eggs, cookies. And the “Ferganians” are skinny - they were fed with one cabbage.

At last we, twenty-two people, came into the company. From the 6 training company from Gayzhunaya with me in the 1-th company there was no one. True, from our training platoon several guys got into the 3 th company. They lived from us through the corridor.

In the company, we were already waiting for the happy demob, the tigers looked like some kind of: “They came! .. How we were waiting for you! ..”.

I was appointed the gunner-operator BMP-2. And I so wanted to go to the mountains! We leave on the armor, and the others on the helicopter somewhere throw. They return in ten days - well, just like panthers, so evil ... As if they had seen something real in life, but we were not.

The first half a month lived in the unit, in tents. In October, in Afghanistan, the temperature is about plus forty. We were taught how to drink water properly. We carried a flask all the time. You only need to drink one sip, not swallow immediately. You can rinse the throat before swallowing. And all the time it was necessary to carry a hat so as not to get a sunstroke. But the most dangerous was heat stroke. Then a person may simply die, especially if it happened in combat. If you are in the unit, then the patient can be taken to the hospital, and where in the mountains to drive?

These two weeks we every day ran cross to Paymunar, to the shooting range. This is seven or eight kilometers. It looked like this: they collect all the young (these are several hundred people), build and - run a march! .. We run, a dust column ... It's about how to run on concrete, which is sprinkled with cement. First, the people run in three rows, then in ten, then more. Then, stretching across the field, runs a huge herd, raising unbelievable dust! Those in the tail of this dust have nothing to breathe at all. I quickly understood it, took the machine gun in my hand and go ahead - tyn, tyn, tyn! .. I think: I will not give up! So I checked myself again and ran first. And I calmed down: since I was not overtaken, then everything is fine, everything will be fine. We shot and crawled for days at the shooting range, climbed the mountain. It was very hard ... But I realized that if it was hard for me, then it was hard for everyone.

Kandahar

In the fall of 1985, fighting began in Kandahar, about five hundred kilometers from Kabul. According to intelligence information, spooks planned to capture the city itself.

Our armor went under its own power. And I was removed from the armor, because someone in the battle could not stand it. And instead of one of them they took me - you will go with a "pencil", that is, a machine gunner! I was so happy! It was about the same transition to another life, how to get into the landing forces. Of course, as I was, not all were eager. But I thought: since I came to fight, then it is necessary to fight!

We flew to Kandahar on the An-12 military transport aircraft. He flew at an altitude of about ten thousand meters. In this plane there is a small cabin, there are pilots, where the pressure is normal, and the temperature and air. But we were loaded into the transport compartment from the back, and there was nothing at all to breathe at the height! It’s good that my breathing was well set, I didn’t lose consciousness, but fifty percent of ours passed out. Then the pilot came out and gave us masks. It turns out that there were still oxygen masks: one for three or four people. They began to breathe in turns. And on the plane there was an incredible bastard, cold cold unthinkable! Later, I found out that at this altitude the air temperature overboard is about minus fifty degrees, and the transport compartment is not airtight ... When they arrived, some simply had to be carried out of the plane. Due to the lack of oxygen, I had terrible headaches and a spasm in my head.


We were told that it was impossible to go straight to the mountains. We must prepare. For two days we lived right on the ground, lay in rows near the airfield. More or less came to themselves, prepared for combat. Then just came our guys on the armor. They had several explosions along the way. But, thank God, everyone survived.

On the third day we were put on helicopters. I even remember how many there were. Forty. In each - thirteen to fifteen people fully equipped, each with fifty to sixty kilograms on their shoulders. There are no doors in the helicopter, only the cable is taut. There are no ramps in the tail either, there are no glasses on the windows: here the machine gun stands, here the machine gun stands, in the windows - machine guns. So, bristling with trunks, flew into the mountains. In the mountains there was a plateau on which the training center was located. According to intelligence data, it was here that the Americans were preparing dushmans to take Kandahar. "Spirits" should have been many, seemingly no less than a thousand.

As soon as we flew up to the mountains, they were shot at us from the ASC at gunpoint! .. The shots themselves were barely audible: puff-puff ... We, the 1 platoon of the 1 company, flew the very first, so we were the first to be shot down . In the center of the helicopter a huge tank stands with fuel. The Lord saved us, because big holes appeared on the sides of the tank, and the bullets themselves went further up to the engines! The bullets hit the cockpit, there was someone wounded. The helicopter caught fire, went down, smoked knocked down terrible! And the engines earned with effort, badly: that-that-that, that-that-that ... We began to fall into the gorge. Shooting is heard from behind, the explosions have gone. But we were no longer up to it ...

Demobel grabbed his head: just about to go home, but now we’ll all perish! But in fact, everything was not so scary. The crew was very experienced. They had large smoke bombs under their wings, steel cables stretching from them, which went out into the cabin through rollers. At the ends, two parachute handles were attached to the cables. And as soon as the bullets hit the helicopter, the pilots pulled the cables and cut down one of the two engines. Dushmans thought that this helicopter was shot down, and took up the rest.

We fell in the gorge for a long time, the depth was maybe about a kilometer. We fall, we fall, the engine works hard ... But then the pilots turned on the second engine, the helicopter became stable. And we went already along the gorge.

When we began to fall, I immediately counted how much I serve in Afghanistan. It turned out thirty five days. I did not seem to panic much, because I was preparing for this. I remember the thought came: if it is destined to die, it is better to die with dignity. But the Lord protected us, we flew away from the battlefield.

But the next two helicopters with 2-m and 3-m platoon of our company really shot down: they crashed into the stones. It’s just a miracle that no one died, although these two helicopters eventually caught fire. The others turned around and flew back to Kandahar.

Some of the guys in both helicopters lost consciousness from the impact. But those who could think and do something, began to shoot back - after all, the "spirits" immediately ran to the place of the fall. "Spirits" drove away, pulled out of their burning helicopters. Then they took the ammunition, machine gun, spare machine guns. Thank God, we had time before both helicopters exploded.

Helicopters fell not far, about five hundred meters from each other. Our walkie talkies worked. And they decided to take the slide, on which there were "spirits". The "spirits" of the attack could not stand it - they left the slide, ran to the other side. Thirty people have already gathered on our hill. They were surrounded by stones and occupied the perimeter defense.

We flew out of the gorge. We fly over the plain.

Suddenly, jet aircraft appeared. Obviously not ours. It turned out that the gorge came out to Pakistan! Planes flew in one direction, then in the other. The pilot of one of the planes, who settled down in parallel for a few seconds, shows - get on the connection! Then one of our foolish yells: "Let's beat him up with a machine gun!" But, of course, we did not shoot down the plane. Our pilots dived down, turned around and went back through the gorge. But in order not to fly up to the battlefield, they began to rise to the top of a high mountain. The helicopter barely pulls, we almost physically feel it! - "Well, dear, come on, come on! ..". Someone stuck to the pilots: "Commander, maybe something to throw off?". - "Let's throw off you!". - "Not-ee, I do not need! ..". They barely flew over, literally over the very stones above the top of the ridge, and returned to Kandahar.

They ran up to the signalers, their radio was on. In turn, we listen as the guy who is on the mountain in touch shouts: “Guys, don't leave us, don't leave !!! There is a sea of ​​dushmans, they are going with a rampart! ” A nightmare to hear something like that! We ourselves have just barely survived, and here our comrades are dying! ..

Helicopter first did not want to fly. They probably understood that this was for certain death. And if they had given free rein to the soldiers, they would have definitely shot these pilots. Cursing, cursing, but in the end flew ...

But first, the planes flew, bombed by dushmanskim positions. Then the "crocodiles" (attack helicopter MI-24. - Ed.) With missiles and guns treated the area. And only then “pencils”, that is, paratroopers, flew to MI-8. Our platoon was again in the forefront. But this time no one was shot down on the approach to the landing site.

On earth, we conquered a bridgehead from the "spirits". They landed the whole battalion and immediately dispersed to different points on the ridge, capturing the slides - so that they would not be killed at once during the shelling.

The gorge from the opposite side was surrounded by a very large and high ridge, beyond which Pakistan began. On the plateau in the middle of the gorge, we saw a Dushmansk training center: houses, trenches, dugouts. Dushmans were not afraid of us at all. And in vain: heavy bombers flew from the Soviet Union, who dropped onto the plateau and did not even know how many heavy bombs. After the bombing of the installation "hail" began to work, then worked artillery and tanks.

Battalion control rose on a nearby hill. The young soldiers and I were left with them on the very mountain where we landed. And the "pheasants" (soldiers who served the year. - Ed.) And demobilization with the platoon commander went to take the next hill about three kilometers away. There were four "spirit". They just ran away.

Our demobels are gone, the demobls from the battalion’s management remain Everyone had very little water, I had about a liter. And when the water is low, I want to drink even more. Usually, we took two half-liter flasks of nylon per person to the combat ones. And it was simply impossible to take more. If everything is folded up, it turns out something like this: an eight-kilogram body armor, an automatic rifle or another three and a half to four kilograms. Four double stores of forty-five rounds each - two more kilograms. A mortar calculation went with us, so everyone was given three or four mines, this is almost fifteen kilograms. Plus tapes with cartridges for a machine gun, three pounds each. Water three liters. Three suhpayka - about five kilograms. Valenki, a sleeping bag, clothes, grenades, ammunition in bulk ... Everything turns out fifty or sixty kilograms. And so much you get used to this weight, that even extra two kilograms immediately begin to put pressure on you.

At night, on duty at a time, for two hours. And then they stole the water ... A demob is coming up to me: “Have you stood since that time?” - "I". “Where is the water?” Did you drink?". - “What is water? I have a little bit! ” “I don’t have water, other young people don’t have water. Do you have. So you drank someone else's water. ” - "Yes, I did not drink!". Dembel took my water and said: "We will come to the regiment - I will give you the neck!" After all, stealing water in combat is generally the last thing.

But then came the demob from another company: "Give me water here!". First demob: "Why?". - "It's not him. I stood with him, took someone else. ” Understood, understood, but could not understand who drank the water.

When everything has settled down, I go to the second demob and say: “Why did you say that I did not take it? We did not stand together with you? ". - "And I saw who took." - "True? And who?". - “From your platoon mordastic drank. Look: if he drank the water, then this is a rotten man, he will surrender you for three pennies. Never stay together with him in battle ... ".

There was silence, the shooting stopped. The end of November, the night is already cold, but in the afternoon the sun came out, no wind, warmth ... The officers were on the next hill. With us, only three alien demobels, the rest - all young. And I decided: there is no demobilization, but I do not obey with this. He climbed onto a large stone, spread out a cape, stripped down to his underpants and lay down - sunbathing! .. The stone is warm, well ... Now there is shooting, somewhere there, something explodes. And I lie down and look down on a huge plateau below me — eight or ten kilometers long.

Rumped, turned over on his stomach and see - our demob is back! I, as I saw him, got scared - he would definitely kill me for these sunbathing! And they'll never take me to the mountains again! I jumped off the stone and just wanted to pull the tent down - three bullets were beating at it! .. The bullets were explosive, they made huge oblong holes in the tent. I understood where they were shooting at me, - the “spirits” were a kilometer away from us.

It turns out that the demob is back for night vision binoculars. Thank God that the Angel saved me with this demobilization! Demob to me: “Now is no time. But if I come back alive, you will get yours from me! ” Then I realized that in combat you can relax very quickly. Constantly keeping herself in a wary state of habit did not yet exist; she came by herself later.

Then I had another unexpected problem. The sledgehammer (my friend Sergey Ryazantsev) wanted to teach me how to eat a dry dog. He warmed it up with dry alcohol, and poured on top of a pile of sugar. Says: "Here, everyone eats so much, very useful." I decided to do it too, although I intuitively felt that something was not right here, I did not like this recipe. But he persuaded me, through force I ate this nutrient mixture ... And after two hours, I started such an upset stomach! And it lasted for several days ... For this regular pierced, the main demob almost killed me.

For a very long time, we watched the war from above. In the Afghan army were our "Katyushas" during World War II. They stand in two rows in the distance. Projectiles fly, fly, fly, explode! .. Nearby are our self-propelled installations, "grads." And all day long we looked at this shooting, like in the movies.

It seemed to us that no one should remain at all after such a bombardment on a plateau, but there were still shots from there. However, in the end, most of the dushmans finished off with bombing and shelling: some died, and the rest ran to Pakistan through the gorge. Small groups that did not leave the bulk, we finished off one by one. No prisoners were taken, it was somehow not accepted. So we fought for about a month.

to be continued...
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24 comments
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  1. +15
    4 March 2017 06: 49
    It is written simply and interestingly. Thanks to the author for another detailed page of the war and his life ..
    1. Cat
      +10
      4 March 2017 07: 51
      I agree with the previous author!
      The essence is not described, but the salt of the soldier's life!
      Thank you!
    2. +10
      4 March 2017 11: 05
      And it always happens when direct participants in the events write, without false pathos and slogans ...
      1. +5
        4 March 2017 12: 14
        Quote: ranger
        without false pathos and slogans ...

        I completely agree with this, I recently read here, in VO, about the Russian peasantry, and in this article these words are:
        It seemed that he would follow in the footsteps of many of his classmates, most of whom had drunk at a young age.
        Moreover, I meet such memories of the village is not the first time. So it was all so in the "chocolate" on the collective farms of the USSR?
        1. +7
          4 March 2017 12: 51
          So even with the declaration of equality, in the USSR some citizens were “more equal” than the others ... And we will leave the allegations that everything was in “chocolate” for full-time optimists, well, those that “We do not sow, we do not plow, we do not build, we proud of the social system ... "
          1. +4
            4 March 2017 12: 55
            Quote: ranger
            "We do not sow, do not plow, do not build, we are proud of the social system ..."

            good
            1. +12
              5 March 2017 04: 27
              Song of the bureaucrats from the movie "Forgotten melody for the flute." hi
    3. +1
      5 March 2017 19: 32
      Here is another recollection of Afghan ordinary soldier.
      Read, do not regret it!

      Andrey SEMENOV. Afghanistan.
      lit.lib.ru/editors/s/semenow_a/text_0010.shtml

      if interested, then look for a sequel here:
      http://lit.lib.ru/editors/s/semenow_a/
      1. +1
        9 March 2017 19: 45
        I read that the author does not speak much about DSB.
        Although I already heard this from a classmate, a motorized infantry from Afghanistan, in 82
        He didn’t really like landing, he said that when they performed the same tasks they had less losses than the landing, with the same results
        It was wonderful to hear this, in 82 g, well, there was no reason not to believe, he had a medal for Valor.
        He didn’t tell much, (or rather almost nothing), well, at the mention of the Airborne Forces, such an ironic smile was
        And so many years later I read this.
        I don’t say anything, I can’t do this, for which I bought for that and sell ..
  2. +8
    4 March 2017 07: 43
    Great article !!! (And this is the story of the author Sergei Galitsky "SOVIET SOLDIER OF THE AFGHAN WAR" at the beginning of the evening to read a lot promising.)
  3. +6
    4 March 2017 08: 05
    You’re reading and as if being carried over .. Thank you, we are waiting for the continuation ..
  4. +8
    4 March 2017 10: 00
    Fellow soldier, 350th regiment, only I got 2 years later, the call of 1986, in Afghanistan 1987-88.
    One question, the newcomers made their first jumps with the forced opening of the parachute, but here it is manual.
    1. +4
      5 March 2017 00: 27
      Quote: Hiking
      a shelf

      Quote: Hiking
      Fellow soldier, 350th regiment, only I got 2 years later, the call of 1986, in Afghanistan 1987-88.
      One question, the newcomers made their first jumps with the forced opening of the parachute, but here it is manual.

      Here is not one question! There are a lot of questions!
      1. +2
        5 March 2017 09: 35
        Quote: non-primary
        There are a lot of questions!

        some ambiguous feeling remained after reading, although the story is undoubtedly interesting
        1. +1
          25 March 2017 20: 33
          After reading. I have such a feeling
          As if in the late eighties returned.
          There are minor inaccuracies about the training.
          I look forward to reading in the same breath
    2. 0
      14 December 2017 21: 32
      All true forced disclosure (by the device) is duplicated by pulling out the main parachute ring.
  5. +8
    4 March 2017 10: 03
    As if doused with red-hot stone. Living memories and an irresistible desire, even for a moment, to re-breathe this air of danger. Thanks to the author. Hub asti, bacha!
  6. +4
    4 March 2017 13: 47
    read in one go. cried. I'm waiting for more!
  7. +1
    4 March 2017 18: 41
    Mordovian song:
  8. +3
    5 March 2017 12: 21
    Interesting ... alive, epic right.
    Surprised:
    “And we ran a cross six kilometers. And I never ran such distances.
    The legs are normal, but there is no breathing room! "////
    He wanted a landing ???
    In Israel, any kid who wants to go to some elite infantry brigade knows that
    "ten" you need to run easily, as you walk. And they are preparing (before the army for a year, for two) for 15, 20 km.
    1. +2
      6 March 2017 19: 44
      Quote: voyaka uh
      In Israel, any kid who wants to go to some elite infantry brigade knows that
      "ten" you need to run easily, as you walk. And they are preparing (before the army for a year, for two) for 15, 20 km.

      He wore strong drinks at the draft board. This is the main weapon in the war.

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      lash%20Quality:%20240%20Position:%204.281%20Playe
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    2. +1
      14 June 2017 17: 37
      Warrior wow. Honestly, to send, not politely, but also some kind of perverse comment.
  9. +1
    14 June 2017 17: 46
    Admins, the word "" does not apply to profanity, your trachomat does not know Russian well. It would be necessary to configure. I just could not insert it into the comment.
  10. 0
    10 November 2017 22: 49
    In one breath.

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