In the late summer of 1986, we are told: we are going to Kunar. This is a terrible place, it was there that my whole platoon died before me. They landed from a helicopter in a clearing. Only one guy caught some hooks in the helicopter, and the pilots flew away with him. But it turned out that our people sat in the center of the "spiritual" gang! During the landing, the spooks hid, and then all of them were shot at close range. Only the guy who hooked the hooks survived.
We arrived on the armor, and here such a serpentine road five hundred meters down is cut down right in the rock! This I have not seen. Serpentine drove, drove to Surubi, and then went to the mountains on foot. We had to look for weapon. They walked for three days, twenty-five kilometers a day. Somehow I found a cave. We got up for the night. They searched - it was evident that the spooks escaped from here literally in front of us, the coals in the fire were still warm. Found sleeping bags, all sorts of rags, food. But there was no weapon. Here I see - at the top there is a gap fifty centimeters high. I say Sledgehammer: "Hold me." I got up as I could, I pushed my hand further. Suddenly I feel something round! - “Sledgehammer, there is mine! What to do?". - "Shut up sharply hand!". I pulled, waiting for the explosion - no ...
They brought something to substitute, I got up and looked into the gap - like not mined. I see - some jars. And in them was pure essential oil for women's perfumes! The platoon leader took all the jars from me. It turned out that one costs about three hundred checks, more than the officer’s monthly salary. We say to the commander: "Give at least some anoint!". He: "Why do you need to be smeared?". - “And why do you need them?”. - “Give women”.
So that the dushmans didn’t come unnoticed, they began to hang rockets on a parachute above the gorge. They hang for twenty minutes, cover a huge territory. And after the launch of each rocket, the liner falls down. And these empty shells with a terrible howling began to fall upon us every twenty minutes. We huddled somewhere, no one slept at night ...
We have no water left for the last pass. Some fainted from dehydration. I went upstairs first. And while the others were rising, I had already rested and began to descend first. There were only three kilometers to ours. I am already walking along the plain, alone. And suddenly I see - on my left side the sea and the huge waves beat on the shore with a terrible roar! I think: these are glitches! It can not be here that the sea, and even no lake. I close my eyes, my ears. I open it - again I see and hear the surf! I have never seen such mirages before. I keep saying to myself: “My name is Victor, I am in Afghanistan ... Here is my rifle, I am in the mountains.” And at the same time - natural hallucinations!
Suddenly I look: to my right water pours out of the ground! It pours, pours on a hollow, and then goes underground again. I stopped and think: “These are glitches! What to do?". Decided to come closer. He put his hands in the stream - the water between the fingers flows. I think: probably, in fact, this is sand, and the brain thinks that it is water. Decided to try to dial. He took a kapron flask, stuck it - it seems like really water! I decided - I'll try to drink. He took out the filter, through it poured into another flask. He threw there disinfecting tablets, potassium permanganate, mixed. I drink - water! It can not be that I drink sand! I drank a liter, but did not even feel it. But after a while I felt the water in my stomach, my saliva appeared. And while I walked the remaining two kilometers, my language began to work. Before that, I did not feel it.
And our armor waves to me with armor, shoot into the air: their own, their own! .. Looked around - no one follows me. All our people who went to the mountains, for some reason, went along the mountain, this is a hook eight kilometers. What for? I do not understand…
I got it. To me: “What are you, crazy! Everything is mined there! ” (But I don’t have a walkie-talkie! Ours were told that there were mines here, and they went around the mountain.)
I drank two liters of water from mine. But I already felt it, it is very good! After all, it often happened that a person, after dehydration in one fell swoop, drinks five liters of water, and he still wants to drink it! After all, the mouth and the stomach of water do not feel at all! And it often ended very badly ...
"Fight with a shadow" in the Charikar valley.
In October, the 1986 of the year the rocket regiment that was stationed in Kabul was brought into the Union, they decided that it was not needed here. And so that the spooks did not defeat him on the way, they instructed him to accompany the landing division.
We walked through the Charikar valley, which ends in the village of Jebal-Saraj. The column stretched for eight kilometers: one rocket vehicle, then BPM or a tank, then again the vehicle - BMP - tank.
Around the middle of the valley we stopped to sleep. We decided: we will sleep, and the young will protect us. But the platoon commander says: “No, you and Sledgehammer will go to guard the tank. There are only four of them. ” We: Why? Let the young ones go! ” - "I said, you go!". Nothing to do, let's go. But we think: we will find a young one there, he will guard, but we will still sleep. We come - and there are four demobels! Upset ...
I had to cast lots, when to stand when. Sledgehammer got us from two to four in the morning. Only lay down, tankman wakes. I: "It can not be that two hours already!". I look at the clock - exactly two.
I got up, standing, guarding ... They put the tank right by the road, the gun was turned in the direction of the gorge. And between the road and the gorge there are four hundred vineyards. From the edge in the hollow A sledgehammer is sleeping. I came up: "Sledgehammer, get up!". - "Aha ...". And sleeping on. I think, let him lie down for now. Cartridges loaded into the rifle shop, something else did. It took about twenty-five minutes - The sledgehammer sleeps. I'm trying to wake up - no effect, not waking up. And I alone have no pleasure. I take a rifle, unlocked the fuse and over his head centimeters of fifty - bang! Shot.
And the rifle shoots very loudly. A sledgehammer instantly, in a second, jumped up. He took the machine from the fuse: “What, what happened?!. Where, who?!. ". - "There" spirits "shoot, and you sleep!". He immediately crouched a little and sideways from the machine - you-dy-dyn, you-dy-dyn ... He began to shoot around himself over the vineyard. But did not calculate and hit the tower tank. Tankers woke up, around ours woke up too. Everyone climbed out: "What happened?" Sledgehammer: "Dushmans there, dushmans!". And pokes a finger towards the vineyard. Tankers immediately hid in the tank. I think: “Well, tankers, well, warriors! Frightened ...
Suddenly I hear a sound — I take a bout-a-b-t… A tank, when it starts up, at first such a specific sound makes a sound. Then the engine itself roared. And I did not even have time to think about why they started the tank, how the barrel turns and — bang! ..
The distance from the trunk to the ground just a meter and a half or two. And we are standing near the tank! We were pushed by the blast wave and covered with thick dust. Deaf instantly. Fell and crawling to the side ... And the tankers can not calm down - bang the bang again! We: "Crazy, crazy ...".
A sledgehammer to me: "Where did the" spirits "shoot from?" - "What" spirits "! I just woke you up so easily. " Sledgehammer: "If they find out, we definitely have a lid!".
And here everyone woke up and started firing from all the guns! We stand, look ... Beauty! .. They launched lighting flares, which descend on parachutes. Sledgehammer and I began to shoot at these parachutes - they competed, who would kill more. We somehow knew that there were no dushmans ...
"Fight" lasted about twenty minutes. I say Sledgehammer: “Now you can calmly go to rest. One hundred percent stuffy souls won't even come close! ”
Breakthrough from the environment
I especially remember the environment in which we ended up in Pandscher. Pandscher was one of the most dangerous regions of Afghanistan, and Kunar was considered the most dangerous.
For a year and a half of service I was on Pandshara three times. Our demobels were there only once. And when they found out that we were going to the Pandshher, they said that the nightmare fell down. After all, they saw the corpses of the guys who were brought from there. A lot of them died there, it happened up to seventy percent of the personnel.
The platoon commander first cheated: “Prepare for combat! We fly there and there. ” In the other direction like. And we went ... on the Pandscher. It was November 1986 of the year.
On the armor they again passed through the Charikar valley. The task was simple - to climb the mountains and take their place. Our 1-th company passed through the gorge and climbed the most distant hills, and our 1-th platoon went farthest and rose above all. Approximately at one level, a little lower, on the next hill, the management of the company got up. Behind us were a gorge and a hill, higher than ours. Initially, we had to climb it, but for some reason did not. And there were "spirits"! ..
I was very glad that we were sent young. I had two mines, many carried four each. I go, as always, first. I already trained myself this way, that I got used to it, that no one can outrun me. Suddenly I hear someone chugging after me. I turn around - young with Chuvashia. His name was Fedya, the surname Fedorov. I went faster, he also faster. I - even faster, he - also faster. But I can not accept that someone overtook me, not used to this! And then he began to overtake me! I: “Fedya, what are you doing? Absolutely crazy? Demob overtake! .. ”. He smiled and went, went, went already ahead of me ... I: "Fedya, wait!". He got up. I give him my two mines - on, if so smart! He silently took and still tried to overtake me! But I did not give up and still overtook him in the end.
It was very joyful that a reliable soldier appeared in the platoon. He didn’t say anything about the fact that I gave him mines, I was not offended at all. And this was a test - what is a man like? Of course, I then ordered him, drove him, but never touched him.
Before us was a huge plateau. Somewhere here "spiritual" ammunition should have been hidden. For five days the infantrymen were combing this area. We are lying, looking around - beautiful view, indescribable beauty! ..
There are no dushmans, no firing, but we immediately equipped the position just in case, folded a low wall of stones. We think: everyone is downstairs, only one hill is higher than us, about a kilometer away. Why build a big position?!. Enough of this ...
We went to body armor, put automata near the stone, my sniper rifle. They pulled out suhpayki, lit dry alcohol. On pebbles we heat up the patties. And suddenly - pumas, pumas! .. Explosions! Fell, lie. I raise my head and see that they are shooting at us from the very top of the hill and get almost directly at us! We slid along its wall and see: between our heads we have a “flower” metallic. This explosive bullet pierced the stone. The core flew farther, and a zinc shell remained in the sand.
And here such shooting began! It is clear that ten "spirits" are beating us! And we do not even reach three meters to the machine guns and rifles! Bullets hit in the legs, very close. We barely hide behind our shelter, we are dragging bullet-proof vests on our heads, thinking to ourselves: “Here are two fools! .. We decided to cutlets…”. But we were rescued by an art corrector who was in the management of the company. Called artillery, they are very clearly covered the hill. "Spirits" stopped shooting.
The exact distance to the hill was two hundred meters, then I measured it with a rifle. "Spirits" was about ten or twelve. We saw them running along the ridge. I shot. But they, as soon as the bullets began to fall nearby, fell behind the stones — they could not be reached there. And indeed, this is almost the ultimate aiming range of the SVD, and I already had a rifle that was broken.
The shelling was very useful - no one slept from the demobels at night. And they stood on guard not four, but four people each. The young ones, of course, slept, but the demobels did not want to sleep at all: the demob is in danger! There was a feeling that the "perfume" is very close. As soon as some stone fell, in that direction such ivory ears stretch!
We stood on this slide for six days. Somehow we went for suhpaykami, which we dropped from a helicopter. But before that, the helicopter was attacked by "spirits", and the helicopter pilots were simply thrown out of the box, as had to be. Boxes crashed and scattered in different directions. "Spirits" also wanted to take suhpayki. We shot, shot at each other ... But as soon as the artillery was again brought in, the "spirits" left behind the ridge, and we got the remnants of suhpikes.
Three days later, the helicopter flew again with cargo. But they sat a little lower, in three kilometers, where the battalion commander stood. We had to go there, and this is an hour and a half or two. Send in all.
We got, took two boxes of ammunition, grenades, rocket launchers and snacks. For some reason we were given mines for a mortar. Moved back. We see a path - very convenient at first glance, you can quickly get out of your way, but one place is shot on it! .. Although it was quiet all day, I said to Sledgehammer: “Young people, if they want, can go here. But we have a demob in danger! Let's go better along the ridges, there is more reliable. ” And we went around, it's about two and a half hours.
And after some time we heard: "spirits" began to shoot from machine guns. Then bangnuli from a grenade launcher! That they squeezed our young. One was wounded almost immediately in the arm. The young hid behind the stones and for a long time could not get out. The distance to the "spirits" was about seven hundred meters. It's very close.
And we go quietly, quietly ... Almost reached, but in front - a hill and a hollow, like a horse saddle. First, a flat sandy surface, then a large stone lies, and on the side there is a gap of fifty meters with sharp stones at the bottom. There is no way to go.
They just leaned out on an open place - bullets in front of us plow the ground! .. We are back! They decided to leave the boxes, run up to their own, and pick up the foodstuffs at night. In the "spirits" they shot, they shot, and I scream: "Sledgehammer, I ran!". And pulled to the stone! Immediately they started shooting at me, the bullets around me, like in a movie, beat dust and sand in the ground! I have never seen such a thing before!
Get, thank God, did not fall. Fell behind a stone. He is tall, my height. And here the sniper hit a stone five times precisely. I sit, I sit - suddenly biu-uu! .. This is a bullet in the stone hits. I sit further - again biu-uu ... For the first time in all of this time in Afghanistan it was with me - the sniper squeezed me! He began to count: if this one sniper shoots, who has shot at this stone, then if I run the remaining twenty meters, it is unlikely that he will hit me. But why risk it? And what if from a grenade launcher another bahnet? He just sweeps me off this slide, nothing left of me. - "Sledgehammer, what to do?". - "Vitek, I do not know!".
While I thought, Sledgehammer rushed to me! Out of my mind, because of a grenade launcher, the two of us will be blown away in one shot! But he was like a brother to me, nowhere without him. We sit behind the stone already together. From time to time he sticks his hands out with a gun and - tyn-tyn-tyn-tyn! I: “Why are you shooting nowhere?!.”. And the sniper is again on the stone - biu-uu! .. In the end I say: "Sit down, I ran." He waited for another shot and rushed! The sniper shot at me, but did not hit, a bullet hit me in the sand in two meters. I fell, rolled over the stones! Then I calmly went to my own.
Sledgehammer shout: "Wait!". The commander suggested where the spooks are. I took a rifle, began to look and noticed where the sniper was shooting from, the lights saw. He was about two kilometers away, with him there were five more people. Sighting distance SVD - one thousand four hundred meters. I shot straight, looked where I'm going. Then he took it higher - the bullet hit not far from the "spirits". They scattered in different directions, and then generally went behind the hill. I shout: “Sledgehammer, run!”. He also ran over these twenty meters.
And our young ones so sat up until the night. When the artillery was turned on, the "spirits" began shooting at them from the other side. But at night, after all, we managed to get out to the platoon.
It turns out that there were a lot of dushmans in this area. Prior to that, we were told that “black storks” were operating somewhere (special forces of the Afghan Mujahideen. - Ed.). And exactly, the next day, the "spirits" suddenly went on us to attack! It really turned out to be "black storks", all in black clothes and high sneakers. We used to be told that these “storks” are well prepared, that they have very clear tactics: they don’t run one after the other, and some run - others cover them. In short, they act as a regular military unit.
It all started unexpectedly. We sit quietly on our site: we have grenade launchers, communication with artillery. And suddenly the shooting began, and the "spirits" from the opposite side of the gorge ran down in our direction! The distance to them was a kilometer and a half, it is right across from us. At first we saw about thirty people, and there are only thirteen of us on this hill. But on the other hand along the gorge more "spirits" are running! And another group, ten people, went down the ridge from behind! That is, they began to bypass us from three sides at once.
The company commander on the radio transmits: “Two other platoon companies have already descended from the hills and retreated to the command of the battalion. But the battalion commander (a young officer, just flew in from the Union) ordered you to cover the gorge and restrain the onslaught of the attackers. ”
We say to ourselves: “Yes, the battalion commander is just a sick man!”. After all, the fool is understandable - with such a development of events, everyone has a cover ... The tactics of dushmans in such cases are well-known: they come close at night, about three hundred meters, and they fire a grenade launcher or a mortar at close range. And if we had killed someone or even seriously wounded, then we would not be able to leave anywhere at all — you won’t quit ... And then the battalion commander decided to collect the entire battalion in one pile! This is exactly what dushmans need! After all, they do not have the task to kill everyone at once. The main thing is to have a loss.
And we have an unenviable position in general - there are only thirteen of us, and we stand alone at the farthest hill. Of course, we will fight back. And there is ammunition, and mortar. But do you get out of the mortar exactly? Well, we cant, well, maybe it hurts someone at best ...
The platoon commander gives the command: “So, everybody for the battle! Keep cartridges! ”. After that, we only fired single. "Spirits" are hiding behind the stones, but still slowly but surely moving towards us! From stone to stone, closer and closer ... It became clear that the situation has changed radically. It also became clear that the "spirits" did not go only to us, they went immediately to the whole battalion! There are a lot of them here. Then they said that about five hundred people.
But there was no time or desire to count "spirits". I just wanted to survive. We were ordered to stand on the mountain and keep the defense. And what's the point of standing here when we are practically surrounded? Dushmans crawl along the gorge, climb from the opposite hill, bypass the side of the ridge. And we do not cover anyone - all of ours went to the battalion commander. And then after a while the most terrible happened: the "spirits" had already come between us and the battalion! We were completely surrounded ...
The day ends, it remains for two hours until dark. The platoon commander says: "It looks like a cover to us." We: "Yes ...". For some reason this time there were no helicopters. Previously, often in such situations, "turntables" took us down a hill - and goodbye, "spirits"!
The battalion commander to our platoon commander on a walkie-talkie once again definitely said: “Stand to the death, hold the dougmen!”. And this is generally nonsense! He himself had just passed the slides, which in such a situation had to be held at any cost, and now he tells us to stand to the death on the farthest hill. I decided to play a war ... (As a result, he almost laid down the entire battalion, the losses were great.)
Then a sentence matured by itself: maybe drape? I want to live ... platoon commander: "The Tribunal ...". We: "But they will not sentence to death!" - “Yes, you will be nothing! And I - four years. - "And if you make?". - "Who will make?". - "We will force." - "Well, let's make ...". I: "Yes, no problem!". And - boom-boom in the ground with a rifle. He: “Everything is clear. We will "make legs"! ".
The distance between our platoon and the main forces of the division was about seven kilometers. This, if in the mountains, is a lot. The commander orders: "Quickly mortar to the battle!". All mines were shot, all grenades from grenade launchers were fired into the "spirits". Everything that could not be left was tied up and blown up. Suckwheels were thrown up - we only had a few hours to live, what kind of food was there ... All the water was also poured out, everyone left himself quite a bit. From machine guns, almost all the cartridges were shot, left for one fight. The platoon commander commands: "Run!". And we ran down ...
Run, shoot back. Only we descended from the slide, and the “spirits” were shooting at us from it! We run through the gorge. They gallop for us! They do not have backpacks, and we, although we have thrown away everything to the maximum, with backpacks! And we can not lose body armor, although the plates were thrown out of them.
I ran back, two hundred meters behind ours. Tired, I decided to walk a bit. And suddenly, about twenty meters away, a black silhouette flies out because of the stones! I hear - vzhuu yy ... This "spirit" sneakers slowed down over the stones. I didn’t have time to really figure out how he started shooting at me ... (Spirits ran after us along the gorge. We just turned, and this one, see, cut the corner and flew at me just around the bend. But ours were ahead two hundred meters, he didn’t expect to see me here. "The Spirit" still got into me. Then, when I came to the unit and began to wash my clothes, I see a hole in the hood. I think: what was it that I caught on? unusual - the edges are even, clear. I began to look for - I found another one in trousers.)
My side vision is good - I see the lights, I hear the sound of shooting. And then my consciousness turned off, and I saw my whole life. And I saw all my life from the very first to the very last day. Just like on film, by the minute, by the second ... It was possible to explain something that was before that moment: I was born, I was shook on my hands, I went to school ... And my future life had no words. It is like the Holy Spirit, which is impossible to explain. Neither touch nor see. It's a secret.
After a moment, I came to my senses. I woke up - I lay behind the stone. Grenade pulled out, but she was already in a combat state, ready. Ring snatched, threw! And immediately after the explosion, he jumped out, fired a rifle several times - and how he blew! ..
Ahead I see Seryoga Ryazanov. I shout: "Sledgehammer, do not throw me alone!". And how he rushed after him! .. And suddenly I see before me a cloud of white, rounded, ovoid. It is inexplicable, informational. Inside is my future life. Above, like a film, is what I lived. And inside - what I still have to live. I run - tryn-tryn-tryn, and the cloud decreases with each step ... I run and think: “Lord, if only to remember something, if only to remember something!”. I feel - nothing is remembered. And once! There is nothing ... It lasted about thirty seconds. What was there?!. I can not remember anything!
Ran to the sledgehammer, he waited for me. We ran to the platoon commander with the guys: they shoot back. "Spirits" follow us along the ridge and run alongside. Here again the order from the battalion commander: “Everyone lie down, do not go anywhere! Let's wait for the dark and go out. ”
But the platoon commander decided so: if we left the high-rise, then we run on. Asks: "Who will stay?". The solution is clear: someone must stay behind and hold the "spirits" so that they do not run at a gallop. Silence ... Commander looks at me. I: “Why are you looking at me, comrade commander? I'm a demob! ” - “And who is the sniper? You're a sniper! (When we fled before, I hugged the rifle and, as I could, I hid it. After all, they will definitely shoot at the sniper first!)
I was very unhappy, I didn’t want to stay. So I did not want to die, because the demob - here it is, side by side! But ... stayed. Commander: “We will not run away from you. As soon as we start shooting at the "spirits", you run towards us. " And here the Sledgehammer says: "Vitek, I'm with you." The commander could not order him. - “Stay.”
Ours ran, Seryoga and I fell and began to shoot accurately. The goal was not to kill all the "spirits", it was just necessary to make them fall even for a while. As a result, we still broke away from the dushmans. And we, respectively, broke away from the platoon ...
Now we with the Sledgehammer ran. We run in turn: one hundred meters run, falls, shoots. At this time, another runs, then he himself falls, shoots. So we cover each other. But in order to move like that, you need very strong muscles. We need to run, fall, then immediately shoot, and then run again without a break ... Dyspnea is terrible, because you breathe is wrong.
I shot out, but the Maul does not run to me! "Spirits" beat us from the sides and behind. From there, where the battalion, also run at us along the gorge! I come back, I run to him: “Seryoga, I must run!”. And he stands on all fours and like a dog breathes deeply: "I can not, Vitek, I can not! ..". It is clear that everything inside is burning. I: “A sledgehammer! .. I must run!” You can! You demob! ”. - "I can not, Vitek ...". And then suddenly helped dushman ...
We stand on all fours, from time to time we shoot. The bullets hit the parapet in the front, and on the other side they shoot at us! And suddenly the "spirit" falls into the parapet of a bursting bullet! (It seemed to me that the bullet was large-caliber. But, perhaps, an armor-piercing incendiary bullet from a rifle gives such an effect from a short distance.) Seryoga flew in the face, poured by the collar, into the ear. He fell, but immediately jumped up and how let's water around like a routine! I: "Sledgehammer, keep the cartridges!". And then he rushed, like an elk, and rushed off in three-meter steps! I grabbed a rifle, I can not catch up with him - he ran off for three hundred meters! Bullets have already begun to fly between us. I: "Sledgehammer, do not leave me!".
One "spirit" completely insolently runs straight at me! I shot him several times and rushed after the Sledgehammer again. It was very scary to stay alone. And together - it seems not so scary. I thank God that He gave me a man like Seryoga Ryazanov.
I run to the Sledgehammer, and he told me: "Vityok, I remembered the anecdote here!" And trying to tell me a joke. I told him: "Run faster! ..". It is now funny to remember, but then actually it was not very funny ...
Even at the high-rise, we were told by radio that we were “300th” (one young man was injured in the arm). A “pill” was sent to us from the battalion (medical orderlies. - Ed.), Someone else went with it. They run to us, and between us - already "spirits"! We show them: lie down, lie down! .. And they wave their hands - hello, hello! I had to shoot at the "spirits". Missed, but laid. They fell.
The physician, wagging between the bullets, somehow reached us (I still maintain relations with him, he now lives in Moscow). He says: “Listen, it’s just impossible to be around with this moron battalion! This is a sick man, he does not know what he is doing at all! All lie down, we will go out at night! .. As soon as they said that you have to go, I grabbed my bag and ran away from there. And this one, which is with me, followed me right after me - I supposedly will be covering him. ”
We have almost reached the division. But dushmans are still running after us! Somewhere in the kilometer ahead I saw - there are tanks, BMP. They began to shoot through our heads over the heads of the river, they hid behind the hill. It turned out that we still left the dushman ... It was then just getting dark.
Doplosilas somehow ... No one in the stores left a single cartridge, the first time it was for all the fighting! I even remembered that when I had about five hundred meters left before me, I decided to shoot the last cartridge. Click, click - an empty store. And there was no grenade, we threw them all. Of course, one cartridge was left for everyone - a wired collar ...
When they came to their own, they were afraid that they would immediately arrest us. After all, we did not fulfill the order of the battalion commander! But the division commander (then it was Pavel Grachev) embraced the platoon commander: “Order of the Red Star, without question! The only commander who did the right thing. All the rest are medals. ” (I even wrote a presentation on the Red Star! But once again I did not get it ...)
It got dark. Those of ours who were going to the battalion commander were surrounded. And we see the picture that we were supposed to see: the battalion began to shoot the “spirits” at point-blank grenade launchers. A flash is a blast! The flash - an explosion! .. We sat at the radio, the speakerphone was turned on. Listening to the talks was simply unbearable! The guys screamed so badly! ..
At the edge of the division’s location, all howitzers, “hail” installations, tanks, and hundred-twenty millimeter guns were installed. To the surrounded battalion was about four kilometers. Art correctors gave the coordinates, artillery shot out. Artillery fire dushman like drove. And then the whole division, except for us, rushed to the rescue. They made a corridor, and the remnants of the battalion began to leave themselves. They carried the dead, the wounded. A terrible sight ...
The battalion commander then laid down almost his entire battalion. After all, he sat down in a hollow, and the "spirits" stood on the hills around. The battalion was at their hands. (The battalion commander served us only three months, they took him off and sent him to the Soviet Union. They hated him for this fight.
Then twenty people died, there were much more wounded. My only countryman was wounded in the knee, he was crushed a cup. We sent him to the medical battalion, then to the hospital, then to Tashkent. There, they had to amputate his leg above the knee, but he was lucky: there was a famous professor from France in Tashkent who specialized in nerve endings. He said that he would try to do everything possible, and took my countryman as an experimental to the Burdenko Hospital in Moscow. There he underwent three operations and kept his leg! She works for him, bends. But he walks as if on a prosthesis.
In this battle, our doctor, captain Anatoly Kostenko, accomplished the feat. The group "Blue Berets" dedicated a song to him. My friend told me about him, who was wounded in this battle. When he was wounded, the doctor dragged him into some kind of pit. Tied up, set the grid, injected promedol. Tom seems to have become easier. And suddenly a friend sees: the “spirit” is running! Literally five to seven meters before him. Shouts: "Spirit" from behind! ". Anatoly turned around - and fell on the wounded man with his whole body, covered him with himself! .. He was hit by eight bullets. And he was without a bulletproof vest. Died right away.
The sniper from our company, Igor Potapchuk, in this battle, a bullet hit in the hand and touched the spine. His commission. The route is the same: hospital, Tashkent, Burdenko. Then he was transferred to the Podolsk hospital. He lay there for several years. He first refused one hand, then - the other. One leg, then the other. Somehow he asked his relatives to be put to the window - sort of looking out on the street. But when his request was fulfilled, he threw himself out the window. But he did not die - there was a grid below. He was taken back to the hospital. But in the end he died. Immediately after Afgan, I was looking for him, I wanted to see: after all, we are snipers, from one company. But he was dead by then. I'm going to find where he was buried in Belarus (I often go there) and go at least to his grave.
The day after the encirclement, we were taken up the hill by helicopter. For four more days we were combing the area and eventually came to the top of Salang. Before us was the second battalion. They have a blast! It turned out that the road itself and the roadside were mined. Everyone was told to stand on the rocks, then they all stood up for the night.
We sit with the Sledgehammer at night, telling jokes to each other in order not to fall asleep. And suddenly we hear someone from the gorge coming up to us! We have ears, like locators, turned in that direction! Once and again - stones fell down, once and again - still stones fell. Just "perfume"! We had grenade launchers, a machine gun. "Let's fire!" - "Come on!" And it was possible to shoot without warning. They shot from a grenade launcher at random, some grenades exploded closely, some far away. Added from the machine and from the machine gun. Everyone shouts: "What is it?!.". - "Spirits" rise! ". And everyone started shooting and throwing grenades!
The commander shouts: “Everything, stop everything!”. Echoes are walking in the gorge ... No one slept all night before. And I say Sledgehammer: "Now you can go to bed. "Perfume" just now will not climb. "
The next morning it became clear that we were at war with a herd of sheep. Descended, collected carcasses. One guy with us worked as a butcher before the army, he began to handle carcasses with a shovel. But then helicopters flew behind us and said that they would take all the meat to their regiment! We started arguing with them. (Although all the pilots and officers, paratroopers talk to them on an equal footing.) They: "Soldier, yes I am you under the tribunal!". ““ Who the hell are you to give a paratrooper to the tribunal? ” Now you will get a bullet in the forehead! ” But they still took the meat away, they left us nothing at all. We were very offended by them then, so we wanted to make kebabs ...
“How I almost killed mine”
We returned from Pandscher to the unit. The armor stopped, everyone jumped to the ground. Gathered platoons, porotno. Order: defuse the weapon! It is done this way: you direct the weapon upwards with the barrel. Then you take off the shop, several times you jerk the shutter. You press the trigger, you hear a click - it means there is no cartridge in the chamber. You put the machine on the fuse, connect the store and - the machine on the shoulder. The weapon was already discharged. But so we just checked it again.
The same had to be done with armor weapons. At the BMP of our platoon, the operator was a young guy. He sort of understood his technique. But he still had some problem.
Stand, wait for the armor to check the weapon. Then the platoon commander tells me: “The gun does not discharge at the BMP. Go, unload! I: “The operator sits on the armor, let him work with his direct business!”. - “Go!”. - "Will not go!". Everything was boiling inside me. Here came the company. And I have even more reaction to him: “He is your soldier! Let him do his direct business! I did not shirk, I was the last out of the entourage! And all this time he rested on the armor. So I would train: I charged - discharged, charged - discharged ... ”. But, no matter how I was kicked off, I was still forced to climb into the BMP.
Ran to the car, jumped. And here such anger attacked me! I just threw the operator from the BMP. Climbing inside, there is a commander of the company sitting there. - "Come on, quickly discharge!" The whole regiment is waiting for us. ” And everyone is really standing, shifting from foot to foot, just waiting for us. After all, ahead of the letter, bath, cinema ...
I opened the gun cover, detached the shells. I look into the trunk - I see a bright spot at the end, the sky. So the barrel is free. I looked into triplex: the driver is standing in front of the BMP. He crossed his arms over his chest, shifted his helmet to the top of his head and rests his back on the gun barrel. I think: “This is an idiot, even though the demob! Is it really not clear to him what we do inside? We check the gun! ”
I automatically made all the necessary movements: I closed the casing, pulled the lever and pressed the shutter button. And here is a shot !!! My fear of my legs began to wadded instantly. I realized that I had just struck the driver with a projectile ... But where did the projectile come from?!. He was absent! I saw the sky through the trunk!
Zampolit scared even more than me. After all, all responsibility, it turns out, is on it. He is near! From fear he began to stutter badly. Yells: “Get out! ..”. And my legs do not work for fear. After all, I finally realized that I was finished: I tore the driver apart in front of the whole regiment.
Feet do not work, I barely got up. It’s scary to get out of the hatch: after all, I’ll see the eyes of the whole regiment! And plus I face at least four years in prison. It all happened in plain sight, you cannot bear such a loss in combat.
Get out, turn in the direction of the gun ... And there the driver looks at me: huge eyes, hair from under the helmet stand on end ... I: "Are you alive?!.". He waves his head: "Alive!". I immediately had the strength. Jumped out, hugged him. He says in my ear: "Moksha, you almost killed me ...".
It was a real miracle. The driver told me that when I pushed the gun cover into place, it was as if someone had pushed him in the back. He decided to look and turned back. And at this moment a shot! The shell flew right behind him. He was saved by a bulletproof vest, which even burned a little. And still saved his helmet. The helmet stood on the ears, and only therefore the eardrums did not burst. (But for two weeks he walked half deaf. And all the time he said to me: “You almost killed me!”)
And the whole regiment led by the commander looks at us. They say to me: "Get up in line, then we'll figure it out." They also told me later that I almost hit the plane with my shell. The BMP was a cannon in the direction of Kabul. At that moment, when I shandarahnul from a gun, from the airfield our AN-12 aircraft flew into the air, accompanied by two helicopters. Helicopters shot heat traps. The guys said: “We look: a red dot flies straight into the plane! We grabbed his head ... ". But the projectile flew past and flew off somewhere in Kabul.
I remember my condition. Before that, I was a brave paratrooper: demobilization, sniper, just left the encirclement! And then quietly, like a mouse, he got into operation ...
But I had nothing. True, the company commander summoned and said everything he thinks about me. Then I met the regiment commander. He: "Yes, you almost killed a man!". - “Comrade Lieutenant Colonel, yes I understand. I’m sorry ... ” That was it.
Then I thought for a long time why this happened. It all happened because of the anger that totally captured me. I got angry that the gun was made to check me, not a guy who sleeps all day and does nothing. When I opened the casing and looked, I actually saw not the sky, but the back side of the projectile. Before it was twenty five centimeters. The rear part of the projectile is dull-metal, and I took it for the sky. But from anger I did not even realize that a dust cover was put on the end of the gun barrel. So no sky I could not see at all. And when then I looked into triplex, I also did not realize that the driver was blocking the sky with his back. But my head was so clouded that when I saw a bright spot in the trunk, I mechanically closed the casing, pulled the lever and pressed the release button.
After that, my attitude towards weapons changed a lot. There was a special sense of responsibility in me. It became clear that the machine should look either up or down. You can never direct it to people! And when I saw the soldiers who indulged in and directed the machine guns at each other, I saw myself in their place. After all, the cartridge may be in the chamber! They can kill each other!
(We had such cases. The most terrible happened in the 3-th company. They lived in barracks from us across the corridor. In the battle, often because of heavy backpacks, we sat down to rest, leaning our backs on each other. Then, after resting, we sat alone he puts on the backpack, and the other one lifts him up like a peg. He lifted up, then sat down himself, put on the backpack. And then he lifts him up by the arms. ”We went down from the mountains and waded over to the river Kabul. The 3 th company was served by two brothers from Murmansk, both half a year younger than me. When the brothers began to spin to sit down at the back, one held the machine gun on his shoulder. The patron was in the chamber, and the fuse was in bursts. He accidentally pulled the trigger and the whole line came back to the head of the other brother. He died instantly ...)
After the incident with the gun, all those who like to joke with machine guns frightened me. If I found out about pampering with a weapon, I would come and put on a bullet-proof vest on a prankster and would beat him on the back with a flat machine gun! Nobody refused this execution - they knew that they were guilty. But after this strike, the jokers remembered one hundred percent that it was impossible to do that. And if someone had given me on the shoulder blades in due time, it would have reached me.
And these primitive, at first glance, methods worked. When we first arrived, they got me a demob on a loose button button on the jacket. (The jacket at the paratroopers and so does not fasten to the top. But we unzipped another button to make the vest better visible.) When cleaning the weapon, the demob is telling me: “Soldier, come here!”. I go up. Demob stand at the dugout, where you have to hide during the shelling. One shows me an F-1 grenade. Asks: “What is it? Specifications?". I answer: “Defensive grenade F-1. The radius of separation of fragments is two hundred meters. ” - “Attention!” Pulls out a ring and sharply shoves a grenade at my vest! Immediately throw me aside hands and instantly everyone hides from the dugout!
Of course, from the habit of fear, it was possible to get a little bit smoked. But I knew this subject, I had already told me one demob. Grenade something real, but without a part of the fuse. There is a click, but there is no explosion! Thanks to demob, I knew what would happen next. Therefore, I looked around, where there are no people, pulled out a grenade from behind his bosom and threw it in that direction. Dembel climbed out of the dugout and approvingly say: "Well done, smart!". And one of our soldiers, who did not know about this joke, in an inhuman effort tore off his tunic and vest on himself, pulled out a grenade and, without looking, threw it to the side. And there were people walking ... Dembel came out and so hit him in the chest! He: "For what?!.". “And you threw a grenade at people!” You had to pull out the grenade, look around and throw it where no one is! ”
Afghan Survival Racing
It was December 1986 of the year. A truce was announced and we were told that there would be no fighting in the near future. In the regiment to sit - like in prison, so I asked for combat support on the BMP-2. Before the sniper, I was a gunner-operator, there is a document. He took his rifle, got into the tower, and we went to Bagram to accompany the convoy. It is about sixty kilometers from Kabul. And on the road there was a very significant case. Our column - three BMP. We meet three armored personnel carriers infantry. We have on the bottom of the BMP white paint painted a big-big sign of the airborne troops - a parachute and two aircraft. Seen from afar. And with the infantry, the paratroopers have a very strained relationship.
We go in the tower BMP, in something we play. We are in experimental bulletproof vests and helmets. They also laughed at these body armor - they weighed eighteen kilograms! How to climb mountains in them?!. Abnormal people have come up with some of them.
I don’t remember what we were playing, but if you lose, then you’re hit on the head by a helmet! And then suddenly we hear the sound of a terrible blow! But we did not hit, but our next car. Faced forehead with BTR.
It turned out that the infantry became paratroopers to frighten and went out on the oncoming line. Our driver aside, BTR - also aside. Once again, back and forth, twisted. The BTR driver did not have time to turn it back, and they crashed into each other at full speed. The BMP is slightly higher than the armored car, its nose is sharper and it is heavier. Therefore, the BMP stepped along the armored troop-carrier, cut off the tower and fell back onto the road with a terrible crash! .. And the armored troop-carrier rolled head over heels and after fifty meters flew off the highway.
We stopped, ran out. In the APC there were four people. One head was blown off immediately, the rest are unconscious. They called doctors and military investigators. We reported on who we were and drove on to Bagram.
When we go a day or two ago, the armored personnel carrier is lying in the same place. He is guarded by two other armored personnel carriers. The investigator immediately goes. We stopped to see what was happening. And suddenly we see - and inside the armored personnel carrier the corpse of a soldier lies, covered robe! We: wow! Until now, the corpse is lying, not taken ... And then the "corpse" suddenly rises! As we have died ... And it turns out that the guard was sleeping under a bathrobe. Then they laughed all the way: paratroopers, demobels ... We are not afraid of Dushmans, but here they were so scared ...
Those three infantrymen who survived the collision were still alive, then they died. In fact the collision opened a criminal case. The investigator called us, we drove to the place of the three BMPs to testify. And here we are overtaken by four infantry armored personnel carriers. And what happens?!. We have a speed of sixty kilometers, and they have eighty-ninety. One BTR at full speed abruptly turns right and beats in our car! And all four flew farther along the road ...
But the infantry was largely unlucky: the curfew began, and neither they nor we were allowed to go on. It was necessary to stop to spend the night at the checkpoint. We drive up, and they stand in a row. We got up close. Our castle, healthy one, a master of sports in boxing, approaches the BTR - “Soldier, get out!”. So small, so thin! Zamkomandira to him - bam, the soldier Schwark on the armored personnel carrier! The rest: "Come out!". Those: "We will not leave ...". He came closer, lifted the soldier into the air and said: “Puppy, only three days ago your comrades died from a forehead-to-forehead strike! And you there too ... ". And threw the soldier to the ground. We were very angry with the infantry then: boys, why did you come here! In order to lay down your head in road races and even kill other people?!.
to be continued...