Is in the fall of the original
A short but wondrous time -
The whole day is as if crystal,
And the evenings are radiant ...
A short but wondrous time -
The whole day is as if crystal,
And the evenings are radiant ...
Part 1. Beautiful weather, isn't it
Frozen in the rain like pillars ... We are at the KMB. First-year cadets of the USSR military machine. End of the 80s.
The sun hid behind the clouds even during the day, waving at us and leaving us alone. We stand in the ranks ...
The weather is already tired of watering us like a bucket and rattling fiercely with flashes of lightning in the sky. The rain was just boringly and monotonously pouring and pouring ... Everything was wet: heaven, earth and us.
Wet through and through.
The rain ran down the cap and forehead. The eyebrows did not retain moisture for a long time, it simply flowed down the eyes onto the cheeks and fell further, dissolving on the wet cotton.
It's a little uncomfortable - blinking your eyes, spitting water, and waiting for the cry of your last name at the evening verification under the autumn rain ... Hands at the seams, you can't move.
There is also water in the boots, it squishes in the rain.
Whales in wake formation, aphids.
Evening verification ... Drizzling rain ... Field ... Evening ...
- Petrov ?!
- Sidorov ?!
- Through the three laborers?
- Nihrenase surname ...
It's no longer funny ... The romance of everyday life in the army somehow sour, got wet and quietly howled, huddled in his heels.
The sun sighed doomedly, finally shriveled behind the birch trees on a hillock and ... hit the horizon - to sleep in warmth until morning.
Water is already pouring into streams on the eyebrows ...
We stand like idols. Evening verification. The chief of the company, squelching cold slurry with his tarpaulins, turned to the frozen formation and said, like "a cat on an oak tree":
- Fuck you stand here like savraski in the wind !!! You were dug 140, and only 100 will get the oath! .. Who is tired of doing bullshit here? Who is ready to write a report and return home to the XNUMXth century? Step forward!
We stand. We are silent. It's a little cold, like the second week ...
The company commander walked out in front of the line, gesturing aside the foreman. He took off the officer's cape from his shoulders, remaining in one field uniform. The cape-cloak migrated into the hands of the foreman ...
We all stand together under a shower in cotton.
I walked in front of the wet frozen formation ...
- Cadet Pupkin!
- Break down!
- There is!
Squelch, squish, squish.
- Not frozen?
- No way, drag tan!
- Get in line!
- There is!
Squelch, squish, squish.
- Cadet Bubenchikov!
And so it went on for a very, very long time ...
The company commander again walked slowly in front of the whole formation and stood in the middle.
- You puppies have not understood anything ?!
- You, as much as 140 mouths, but only a hundred will go to the Oath! This is the order !!! Do you know what "Order" is ?!
The order is what will be done... And other options - no!
Understand - stubbornness is good, but what will happen then? Do you know exactly how you want to live your life? You will need to study for several years, and then serve the entire the rest of your life! All life!!! And there won't be another.
Turn on the brain!
Do you really want this?
And also understand - while you have a chance to write a report and return for a year under a warm mother's hem and cute classmates. But when you take the Oath and realize that you have stepped with your fucking stubbornness, then you will immediately go into the army for two years!
There will be no return to civilian life.
It - do you understand?
The rain pours and pours. We stand, already not understanding anything ...
- Do you know that you will die ... really! Before the Oath? And, moreover, after it? I will arrange it for you and guarantee! You will be in shit up to the tonsils and hrendelpupins!
- Who is ready to die, but take the Oath, step forward!
The frozen formation simply stupidly digested what was said above and ... stood like rooted pillars ...
Brains just got wet. There is no more strength to think and perceive adequate words ...
The company commander chuckled.
- Already dumb? Well, where are you going, kindergartners? Okay, I'll ask you differently.
- Who are the future officers here and are ready to swear allegiance to the Motherland ?!
Well, I would say so ...
The frozen formation on autopilot took a step forward ...
There are no fools left behind ... We have been floundering in the cold in the tent city for two weeks now, only the most stubborn are left ...
“Well, as you know,” the company commander smiled almost imperceptibly and approvingly.
Part 2. Oh, how many wonderful discoveries we have
- Rota, Equal! HIGHLY! At ease. Chief, take command.
- Rota, disperse! Hang up in 15 minutes!
Stop it ... Finally, at least once a day, they said something that you couldn't bear to want ... And the footcloths are damp.
The wet and sticky mass of people bent their chins to their throats, pressing against each other, and squelching, swearing, to their tents ...
Tents, tents, tents ... "How much of this word has merged for the Russian heart" ... In the bathhouse of Russian classics ... It's cold, aphids ... According to the Charter, our burnt-out tarpaulin PLC could accommodate 10-12 people. We ran around it like ants - we dug 15 of us in it ...
They sprinkled Pravda and Red Star on it ... This is so that the cheerful rain would not soak it until it condenses inside, and it will be warmer. "Komsomolskaya Pravda" was left and hidden in training bags to increase the intellectual level on the "pot" with subsequent use for its intended purpose. And the rain just poured and poured down, but how much more of it upstairs?
It's cold, aphids ...
We ran inside. Fuh. "Hang up" means you can go into the tent.
In the entire width of the tent, behind the central pillar, there were wooden bunks, on the left there was still a bed for a couple of people with twigs stuffed under it for the firebox. To the right was a lean-to box with personal lockers. And quite in the corner, next to the entrance, a potbelly stove was pleasing to the eye.
Our coziest Hilton, there is no other.
Rustling in the dark, colliding with each other.
- Are we lighting it up?
- And then ... br-br-br.
Throwing back the cuff of the entrance cuff called the door, four people burst into our mansion: rain, a raincoat, a tin bucket with a lid, and an orderly bandage for the company.
- What do you want, sick?
- Have you heated the stove yet?
- No, they didn't hug, they were waiting for you. What do you need, we ask?
- Collect ash.
We have already begun to get used to the fact that it is not worth being surprised in the army. There's no point.
We stand, silent, waiting for the continuation.
- Yes, the political officer ordered to collect ash! To the dacha, he needs to eat it ... He will scatter it.
- Zampolita ?!
The people instantly revived, remembering the insidiousness of the political worker of our glorious party, and amicably suggested:
- Give us ... thrown to him in ashes?
- Yes, you sho, agreed chtol ?! - shouted the orderly. - I look into the fifth tent and it is the same everywhere. So stupid here that the jokes became the same?
Grumbled under his breath something about the incredible difficulties of the work of the inner outfit when dealing with such cretins as we, the day nurse with a blue scoop dishonored our potbelly stove and rushed off to collect tribute from other wigwams.
- His scoop is not statutory.
- Why not?
- And where did you see the blue children's owls in the Red Army? Is it blue?
- Nowhere. Only green.
- This is it, which means that it can be from the enemy sandbox, and this ...
- She, you what, there is nothing else to do ?! Whoever is closer to the stove, keep the firewood.
The merry tongues of flame cast a reddish-blue glow on the walls of the tent, dark with dampness, and brought a wave of warmth to the stubborn romantics. Steam started to flow from the cotton, and my chilled body cramped. And immediately the moisture in the boots was sharply felt.
The people stirred, pulling off the tarpaulin, climbing onto the bunks and hiding their legs under them.
- Wah, how good it is ...
The pungent smell of footcloths, tarpaulin wax, sweat and dampness mixed with the heat of the stove and spread throughout the tent.
- Finally, beauty ...
How much does a person need?
- Who has a four-thread to devour?
The parcels had already been finished, but two packs of stashed cookies were found. One tooth for everyone. We chew.
- Guys, what will happen tomorrow? What are the classes?
- Do you care?
- Well, maybe under a roof, not in a field ...
The laughter of warming people amicable in a spasm.
- Well, you and ... the storyteller.
- Eh, go to Chipok ...
The noise of the rain intensified. And a gust of wind hit the tarpaulin of the tent with a heavy wet paw.
- Yeah, here's a joyful goblin and bring you a glass of sour cream with a turbine.
- How are you going to pay?
- Soviet Leshies from Soviet cadets take into account only rubles at state rates, in accordance with the moral principles of the moral code. Patriotism, so to speak, and partisan education.
In a friendly cackle, the attendant opened the potbelly stove, illuminating for a moment a tight wet flock of boys and cotton tunics hanging on cords soaring from moisture. The fire, with a joyful rumbling, began to devour a new portion of broken planks and hummed like a draft in an iron pipe.
- But they gave us money, 7 rubles each, but why is it so little?
- This is a soldier's allowance. After the oath, there will be a cadet. Zema said that it was 22, 27 or 32 rubles.
- Yes. With what force you will gnaw the granite of army science, the Army will give out so much money for vodka - such an incentive.
- Or to Chipok ...
- So, put aside talking about food, perverts. Let's talk about something nice. Do you have ... Lice?
- No? Duck is nice!
- Well, by the way, you can't beat lice, it's not like a soldier.
- Ofonarel? Why?
- Ofonarel himself, there may be women and children among the lice!
- Then we will frighten them with the Charter of the internal service. They will scatter themselves.
It was getting warmer in the tent, damp things were warming up. And the smell of the barracks began to be clearly felt in the air - the special smell of the dwellings of soldiers of all times and peoples.
- And what, when will the yuft workers be given out? The burn will be warmer.
- Warmer, they are warmer, but also heavier than a tarpaulin. After the KMB will be issued.
- Yeah, those who won't die.
- Eh, it would be better to live up to the Oath, but it will be easier ...
- What makes it easier?
- Well, Duc in the barracks we will live in the location of the uchaga, and the ridges in the city.
Civilization of the XNUMXth century.
- Yeah, uvaly: girls, dumplings ...
- Kakava with tea.
- Do not, do not confuse the order: first the dumplings, and then the girls.
- Shave with dreams like kakava.
- After the Oath, here again. We will be in the city for only two days. Forget about ridges for six months. From the word at all.
- Are you flawing?
- The elders from the courses said.
- They bred us burdocks?
- We have not grown up to burdocks yet, we are "minuses", paramilitary yet. And he told me - a fellow countryman.
- And Zema told me the same thing, but I did not believe it.
- Compatriots don't lie.
- Duc it - after the Oath, it will snow already !?
- Duc it the company commander said so - you will die here.
- Well, we were dreaming about armored beds and girls in dumplings ...
Hmm, thought pump.
Lana, creep ...
Part 3. Hush, children sleep, hush
- All the guys, turn off the "telly", it's time to press the "mass" into the lyulya.
- Who is this clever footcloths stuffed into boots? - shouted one of the "soldiers".
- You?! Ugh, damn it, and also a "Suvorovite" ... Throw it on top of the boot, so it will dry out at least a little.
- Comrades "students", I also appeal to you - there are no mothers here! You will even wash yourself, who still does not understand ?!
("Soldiers", "Suvorovites", "students" are the slang of applicants entering universities. - Approx.)
- That okay to you, a sage burnt out by life ... Come on down.
Four greatcoats with unbuttoned straps were thrown onto the bunks. Twelve people tumbled down on a luxurious bed, covering themselves with the remaining eight greatcoats. When the strap is unbuttoned, the overcoat turns into a wonderful and large blanket. In dampness, a person will never get warm himself, if there is no other source of heat. Only we ourselves were warm, that's the whole story.
Overcoats were thrown from above with wide overlaps on each other, forming one large woolen blanket.
If you sleep a dozen in 8 sleeping places, then snoring sweetly on your back or sniffing your belly down will not work, you should not even dream.
All of them, out of habit, lay down on one side, with their legs drawn up and huddled closely to each other.
- Damn, Seryoga, even your neck stinks with footcloths, what are you hemming?
“His perfume, unfinished perfumer.”
- Where did you get so many greatcoats, Dimon, what am I - Santa Claus so sleep?
- And you yourself go to my place, from the edge!
- Lyokha, plin, take away your mosles, I can't see my breathing!
- And what have you given your ears for?
The three remaining from 15 built their own cocoon on another piece of bunk.
- Who is the stoker on duty ?!
Yeah, who's the ass on duty tomorrow morning? ..
- Kostyan, don't pretend to be a hose, it's your turn!
- I?! Where to?
- Not "where" but "exactly." Good fool to include, you are assigned to be a hero.
Everyone knew how difficult it was to get up before climbing, getting out of the heat of his brothers in a damp, dark morning.
But Kostyan was perfectly aware that an unmelted stove was the cold dampness of cooled boots and footcloths, for which there would be one hundred percent pindulins from the entire furious department ...
The fate of such a duty.
- That's it, basta - we drown the "mass" ...
The stove, full of wood to overflowing, hummed softly, throwing bursts of flame onto the wet tent. The rain rustled monotonously. The snoring of brothers giving bream from the fifth point ... The tired body slowly warmed up, the brain refused to work and fell into oblivion.
The sultry summer sun sparkled with emeralds on the surface of the pond. The float swayed rhythmically on ripples from the floaters rushing in all directions.
- Granddaughter, let's go to the hut. It's time! The pies are ripe!
- I don't want to, bah! Later!
-Jellyfish, good to sleep! Turning around!
Damn, again the army was in the ears. Itit. The people sleepily rolled over on the other side, mercilessly nudging the snoring people.
If someone tells you that in the mass of people who are closely pressed on one side, you can turn on the other side alone - don't believe... This is one hundred percent lies. They all turn together. It doesn't matter if anyone wants it or not.
Classmate Lenka was swinging on the swing, pushing the ground with one barefoot. The breeze tugged at her dress playfully.
- Lesh, shall we go to the cinema? She narrowed her eyes.
- With ice cream?
- Kostyan, get out of here! Heat the stove, or we'll beat it on the rise!
What is there? The nose stuck out for a second and breathed in the frosty air, filling his lungs with a mulienne of sharp ice ... Oh, nah, again buried his nose in Kolka's warm back under his greatcoat.
- Guys, let me go! Give me another five minutes to pokemarit - the unfortunate man was wailing, trying to climb into the salutary warmth of his fellows tightly packed into a flock.
- I will give the soldering of butter to the one who will replace me!
- Forget it yourself ...
Heels of merciless knees threw the poor fellow from the bunk straight to the stove.
- We love you too, Kost. Swamp.
The foreboding of the inevitable rise made the unrespirated and numb body whine and whine, but the comfortable morning sleep again deboned the contents of the cranium and saved the brain from everything, including its own dreams.
Part 4. Together it is fun to walk across the open spaces
- Soldiers get up! Get up, company! Climb! - the orderly was straining on the street, passing through the rows of tents and slapping on the tarpaulin.
- Slap yourself on the pumpkin - grumbled from within.
- Get up, company! Come out to build! - this is the foreman's voice raised ...
Woke up, itit ... And where do these come from? Go and I was born in boots, and in general Boot. We'll have to get up, eheh.
The people silently crawled out from under their greatcoats, wiping their zenki.
Kostyan sat down almost on the stove and gnawed on a piece of bread that had come from nowhere.
- Sharpening in one helmet? Where did you get it?
- And good morning to you, woodpeckers. Get up slobber and be glad that Uncle Kostya has heated the palace for you.
- Oh well. Would you try not to fire up the stove ... Rejoice that you survived.
The light was just beginning to penetrate through the tarpaulin of the tent, dressing out of habit by touch, constantly bumping into the unknown whose knees and backs of the heads. It was quite warm, even the damp footcloths did not give off cold.
- Well done, Kostyan.
- Let's go, guys.
It's a new day.
Morning was just about to come, pushing out the night, but without the sun it turned out poorly. The earthly luminary was clearly in no hurry to rise above all this fuet, hovering somewhere on the steps of the horizon. Everything around was simply permeated with dampness and a chilly morning chill that chilled to the bone, but ... There was no rain.
- Institute for Noble Maidens, build!
The gray mass flowing out of the tents instantly depicted a clear army formation in three ranks - we already know how.
- Wishing to live like a human being for another year, and not as it is now? Will we write a report?
- Step forward, if there are adequate ones among you!
The line was silent.
- Well, to hell with you ...
- To the Right!
Shikh-shikh spoke the boots, smoothly turning a clear formation.
- Run ... Set aside!
- On command, run, comrades cadets, arms bend at the knees, and the pumpkin with the body bend forward!
- Run ... MARCH!
- Left shoulder forward!
Left-right, left-right. The tired body ached and resisted, whimpered and squelched, convincing him of the wildness and stupidity of what was happening. What the hell is it all about? But it is not so easy to stop in a running formation. Running in a column is a well-coordinated army organism. Whether you want it or not, you do the same as everyone else, and in no other way.
Shih-shih, shih-shih - boots entered the ground.
Running in a column is an incomparable experience. You feel as one with everyone who surrounds you. You feel everyone and understand everyone without words. There are no more individuals, there is only one single living organism. One light at all. One heart. And this feeling excites and makes the whole body wake up.
Breathing enters the rhythm of the structure.
Adrenaline comes out of hibernation and generously splashes strength into the blood.
The column rushes forward, and you no longer understand whether you are running yourself or whether the formation carries you on the wings of its strength. It is intoxicating. This is encouraging. it feel.
The shoulders are straightened, the body wakes up and is in full swing of warmth and energy. The arms move by themselves, the legs carry the body to the rhythm of the harmonious movement of the formation, the lungs breathe in the uniform rhythm of the cast army body.
The company took off at the turn of the polygon road. Bah ... a familiar place. Here we constantly stop for ... ahem ... Admire the nature.
- Rota ... Stop!
- Peres ... aat! (well, there are different teams in the army, there are also such).
The line instantly disintegrated along the side of the road and lit up a steam ...
- Lech, let's go to our place!
The fact is that we, five kids, did not find anything clever how to conduct an experiment - generously water one bush throughout the entire KMB and see what will happen to it?
The army is damn it. What life is - such is humor.
The sun knocked out its first rays from the horizon, spreading out the raw nature.
The light sprinkled gold on the trees, ran across the tower tank headmistress and generously endowed us with his warmth.
Life woke up ... And I realized that and this I can live a day and not break.
KMB continued ...