Military Review

Fight, student! Memories of the first Chechen

Soldiers and Officers
276 th Yekaterinburg

motorized rifle regiment dedicated

The 276th motorized rifle regiment, consisting of two motorized rifle battalions, one tank battalion, self-propelled gun battalion, mortar battery, reconnaissance, remrota, RMO, communications company, commandant platoon and other units - only about 1200 people - on December 23, 1994 plunged into echelons in Yekaterinburg and moved to Chechnya. After 2 days he was already in Mozdok, after another 2 days he entered the fighting. He took the first serious battle for Sadovaya (on the outskirts of Grozny), where it burned down tank company and several infantry fighting vehicles.

On New Year's Eve 1995, the regiment participated in the storming of Grozny. The battalions entered by Lermontov and Pervomayskaya. February 10, exhausted by the continuous battles, the regiment transferred positions and roadblocks to the “weshveshnik” and left Grozny “to rest”: people were left to freeze on the Terek ridge.

I am a student of the history department at Moscow State University. He grew up in a military family: father, grandfather, great-grandfathers - officers. After serving urgent and wanting to prove their independence, he entered a civilian university, but soon realized that a career as a scientist does not deceive me. I wanted to serve another year to decide finally whether I should continue the family dynasty or not. So in the fall of 1994 of the year, already at the fourth year, he took academic leave and enlisted for contract service in the Russian army.

Until January 1995, he served in the Urals, in his native part. And on February 10, on their own request, 1995 was sent to Chechnya.

Fifth war

We flew to Mozdok. We are 23 volunteer contractor from Yekaterinburg. I am a senior team. Directed to fill the vacant position of the platoon in one of the mouth 276 MSE. The team consists mainly of 30 – 40 guys, but the oldest one is 47. Almost all - with combat experience. Mainly, of course, "Afghans". But there are others: “Abkhazians”, “Karabakhs”, “Oshs”. For some, this is not the second, but the third, fourth, or even the fifth war.

To me, all 23, I'm young and carefree, and this is my baptism of fire.

“Specialists” from Asbest flew with us, as well as a group of officers, like us, sent to replenish the 276 regiment. The officers were missed aside. These were mainly “jackets”: lieutenants-conscripts, called up for 2 years after civilian universities to fill the posts of platoon commanders who were staff officers before them. It can be understood that it was the platoon that made up the overwhelming share of casualties among officers in the battles for Grozny. The poor fellows shifted from one foot to the other and everyone had the same expression in their eyes: “How did I get to this life?”

While they were looking around, the “specialists” somewhere amicably departed by an organized crowd, and the contract soldiers began to unload the “humanitarian aid”, which was filled to capacity with our An-12. We passed along the chain of boxes and stacked them in piles at the ladder. The last unloaded finished in the insole of an elderly Captain-doctor. The retiree, the “Afghan”, leapt in his mind against the state, volunteered to fight Chechnya. Doctors carefully laid on the stack "humanitarian" and left to rest.

A minute later, a filthy “UAZ” rolled up, a mighty handful of colonels and lieutenant-colonels of a very brave look poured out of it. We were built, and one of them pushed a speech, from which we learned that we had arrived in Mozdok (and we thought - in San Francisco!), In North Ossetia, and today we will be delivered to Grozny by the first “spinner”. We were also informed that Chechnya is a zone of armed conflict, where people can easily be killed, and that it is not too late to change their mind. Those of the contract servicemen who are not sure that they made the right choice should get out of order right now, and they will immediately, with the same "board", be brought back to Yekaterinburg, where they will be able to file reports of dismissal, and so on. t. n.

Naturally, the system did not even budge. Not so many days through all the bureaucratic barriers we broke through here in order to arrange a performance. And it’s a sin for us, wolves shot, dogs of war, to sit behind the backs of 18-year-old conscripts at home. Chechnya should be punished properly so that others are discouraged. And we can not wait to do it.

Out of action, an unbridled cue suddenly snapped: We are here for ... Subscribe! ".

The brave colonel did not get angry at all, but he smiled at us fatherly. He said that 276 got great (over a quarter of the loss of personnel), but that this is great - the best in the group! - a regiment whose reconnaissance company was taken by the Dudayev Palace ...

Needless to say, neither on this day nor the next did we get to our unit.

First corpses

... And I dreamed that we were flying again to An-12, all the windows were broken and the cabin was spread cold wet rubbish with snow, packed into the eyes, into the ears, by the collar.

Knocking out my march with my teeth, I woke up and remembered that I was lying on a raincoat tent spread out on a concrete floor in a gigantic, windswept hangar without windows and doors. The roof of the hangar looks like a chess field, through the white cells of which, right on the face, I pour that wet garbage with snow. My throat hurts, my head hurts, my nose is not breathing, my eyes are watering ... I caught a cold from the miracle hero.

Grunting and overwhelmingly numb, I climb into the duffel bag. He ate two pills at once — aspirin and biseptol — sipped from a flask of ice-cold vodka and, leaning back, froze, breathing heavily ... After resting for a while, he “took the communion” again, lit a cigarette and began to survey the troops entrusted to me.

The agony in the throes awoke, grumbling and thundering under the arches of the cold hangar with an angry mate. We quickly lit a fire and boiled suhpai soup in a large bucket.

After breakfast, I went in search of a dispatcher: find out how they have about the promised "board" on Grozny. Dispatcher found without difficulty, but it turned out that the "board" is not expected. Maybe in the evening, and maybe tomorrow ... "Where are you, in fact, in such a hurry, young man?"

I went "home" to the hangar. Coming up, I saw that my fighters were unloading a huge helicopter with a “200 cargo”.

I do not know who invented the beautiful tale of "zinc coffins." The dead were wrapped in an overcoat, a raincoat, blankets, and just pieces of tarpaulin. Many are disfigured badly, and some seem to have fallen asleep. These were the first corpses I saw, and I was slightly shaking.

My contract soldiers laid the bodies in KamAZ and argued whether they would fly on this helicopter or on another, which was standing on the nearby patch and from which some Russian grandmothers and grandfathers got out - refugees. The last was a skinny soldier in a dirty overcoat and with a hand on a sling. He looked around with crazy eyes and seemed to disbelieve his salvation.

Since today we are not flying anywhere, we go on a visit to the helicopter pilots who invited us "for four hundred drops." That night, one of the crews was shot down over the pass, and it is still unknown who survived. On this occasion, the flyers were terribly angry and wished us to get to the Chechens as soon as possible in order to cut them all to one and all: both peaceful and non-peaceful. The main thing - we agreed that tomorrow morning they will organize us "board".

We did not wait

"Board" was so tiny that we all could barely fit in it. And nevertheless we climbed into it, and in half an hour I had already presented the replenishment to the regimental commander, Colonel Sergey B.

"Platoon! Attention! The alignment to the middle! ”- with an impeccable line step (taught!) I fly up to the colonel and report. The colonel is a dense forties man with a tired face and in a simple tanker without insignia. "Do not shout, please ..." - winced, holding out his hand. They greeted each other. “Allow me to give the command“ at ease ”?” I muttered in confusion. “Yes,” the commander waved his hand. The system collapsed by itself, the people surrounded it in a semicircle, and the regiment began to say: well, they say that they have arrived, well done, now they will feed you and distribute them by mouth. Grozny is practically taken, the day before yesterday the regiment was withdrawn from the city, and now the checkpoint is in the North, and the battalions are in the mountains north-west of the airport, on the Tersky Ridge.

Well, did not have time. Grozny has already been taken, and the very 18-year-old blockheads we came to help make it. Now, according to the colonel, Argun, Gudermes, and Shali, and the mountains in the south of Chechnya were waiting for us.

With the capture of Grozny, an open, positional war ended and a mean, sly, partisan and sabotage war began. If in Grozny they took Russian stubbornness and courage, then in the “greens” and in the mountains it took cunning plus cunning again. Later, many soldiers who survived the New Year’s storming of Grozny recognized that, despite the terrible losses, it was easier to fight there.

The first battle

Descending 18 February into the valley between the ridge and the northern suburbs of the city, we scattered checkpoints around all of these “greenhouses”, which were labyrinths of aryks, forest belts, vineyards, gardens, private summer cottages with many one- and two-story buildings. If on the pass we were buried in the snow, then, descending into the valley, we got into the summer.

The grouping of spirits escaped from the ring of internal troops in Grozny, and some of them dissolved in the area: rest, wake up, sleep off, and scatter to their homes, in order to re-form into many small mobile gangs. “E ... specifically, everything that moves!” Was the instruction that our company officer gave before the performance.

Our 8-I company, at three checkpoints, straightened one of the roads leading to Severny Airport at crossroads. The interval between platoons is 1,5 – 2 kilometers. On three sides close - a solid wall of "green stuff". On my block, on the one hand, there are vineyards, and on the other, country garden plots. We immediately, before the onset of darkness, rushed to mine this "brilliant green" with hand grenades and "signalization" on stretch marks. Naryl trenches, a gap in case of mortar shelling, buried the BMP in the caponiers, placed machine guns on nearby rooftops. In general, prepared for the night.

We settled in a small house with a Chechen named Ramsay. The guy is quite decent. Every day he went to the village: apparently, to tell the Mujahideen brothers about the results of their nightly affairs. In the village he has a second house and cattle.

He brings us fresh tortillas, milk, tea, sugar, salt, water and so on. For this we tolerate him, although we try not to talk about anything serious with him; He also observes the "subordination", trying not to call too much eyes and not to run into trouble.

According to local notions, Ramsay is poor: two houses, three horses, two cows, a small flock of sheep. He has no family. There is a brother somewhere, but where he is now is unknown: somewhere he is fighting, probably, against the Russians.

Once a special person came from the regiment and took Ramsay to the "filter". There riot policemen beat him all night long, and our company company drove after him the next morning. He took: he said it was "good Chechen". Our doctor then treated him ...


The very first night we were visited. In the evening and the whole night, from time to time we were lightly shelled from the vineyards. Fighters sluggishly snapped. Meanwhile, from the opposite side - from the dacha plots - to us, slowly, quietly and foolishly firing, bypassing or removing our stretch marks, the group moved imperceptibly. Exploring the next day, the traces left on the ground, drops of blood, and scraps of clothing, I determined that this group consisted of 8 – 10 of not sickly men. The tracks were mostly 44 – 46-th sizes; One of the Mujahideen was an Arab: from his pocket a small piece of copper — the coins of the United Arab Emirates — spilled out onto the grass.

Around 4 in the morning, some of them still stepped on the stretch. The "signaling" triggered, calling upon itself a sea of ​​fire. The spirits fought back, but then our PC hit the nearest roof, and the “warriors of Islam” rolled back, taking the wounded away.
Soon, however, we discovered that some remained. In the attic window of a two-story mansion, an observer spotted a green light of a night sight in his night-glasses. At all our confused firing at random, the Mujahid did not pay the slightest attention and sprawled out in the attic some hundred meters away from us.

Without thinking twice, I grabbed a “Fly” and blasted right across the hacienda. But, “having played” on the grid-chain-link stretched in front of the house, the charge went up and, having flown over a couple of blocks, it exploded somewhere. The spirit moved from the attic to the second floor and there was silent. The green light, visible to me in the night binoculars, gave him away with his head, like a taxi flashlight. The Chechen was sitting quietly and, apparently, was waiting for everyone to calm down, in order to calmly choose a victim and shoot her.

One of the fighters threw a machine gun behind his back and, holding a grenade in each hand, got out of the trench and, dodging like a hare, ran to the house. The Chechen fired, but missed. Then I found that I also had a grenade in my hand, already without a ring, and I ran after the soldier. Without letting the spirit pop out, PCs are thrashed around the house, and we run without problems. Scraps of thoughts about the frailty of life rush through my head ... Throwing grenades through the windows, rushed into the house and combed it all, pouring water into all the rooms from machine guns and gantry plates. The mansion was completely empty. In one of the rooms, still warm 46-size sneakers were lying around (the sniper moved barefoot around the house so as not to make any noise). The Chechen escaped without shoes and without waiting for the two Russian idiots to turn him into noodles.

Getting light. It became clear that today the fighting is over. Braiding the whole house with stretch marks, we set off for breakfast.
We returned to the jokes of our comrades: they say, where are the ears of a dead Chechen?

Ural infantry

The commander of the 8 Company, his namesake, I knew before the war - a graduate of the Tashkent VOKU, not a fool about a drink and a fight. He was distinguished by a cheerful disposition, reasonable rigor and justice. The soldiers hurt themselves in the pancake, carrying out his commands: not for fear, but solely from the desire to earn his praise and approval. In such cases, when the company officer was pleased with someone, he uttered: "Specifically!" (That is, well). If not, then: “About nothing!” (That is, it is no good). These his "concrete" and "about anything" constantly flew in the air ...

He knew his business tightly and was considered the best company officer in the regiment (today he is already a battalion commander). I was quite happy, having come under his beginning and found him alive and in good health. He has not changed, only kilograms on 10 "built."

Aleksey put me on the 2 platoon, who lost his platoon platoon in Grozny (so I simultaneously became a “castle” and an acting platoon platoon). In addition, the platoon lost two BMP of three and a half of the personnel. In total, the company lost about 30 soldiers from 60 (four were killed, the rest were wounded and missing), two officers (platoon and deputy commander) and two ensigns (foreman and equipment). Zampolit and ensigns sent new ones, but I replaced the platoon. In addition, I immediately had to sit down at the helm of the only platooned bempumpshka, because instead of a wounded mechanic, a slowed-up young soldier was put on her.

Total left in the company 6 machines from 10. Gradually, we received two more restored bempuses from the remrota, and in May another one. The regiment never saw the new technology ...

From our team of volunteers, three came to the 8 company: I (Hispanic), Yura (Klop) and Dima (Terminator).
The bug is a sniper. He fought in Afghanistan, participated in the Osh conflict. He received his call sign for being just a little taller than his SVD. Soon, he showed himself in the 3 platoon as a wonderful sniper and scout who, thanks to his small flesh, was able to disguise himself so well in any situation that he could be found only by stepping on him.

Dima - Terminator is the fourth war. He is a “PC gunner”, he is also a “calculation number”. The PC in his paws looks like a toy. He usually carries a spare zinc with a ribbon on the hump.

Yura died in Shali in June, hitting a grenade launcher. The blast wave threw him out of the fourth floor window. Dima remained to take revenge: they had been friends since childhood and neighbors on the porch. I went on vacation and then left the army ... And today I ask myself every day: did I do the right thing?

The official conversation on taking office took about five minutes: it took so much to enter us into the SDC. Then we recalled mutual friends: someone resigned, refusing to fight, someone here - fighting. Someone has already been killed, wounded, captured, unaccounted for ...

From time to time the fighters were taken for the guitar, in a pot on the coals they were warming themselves peacefully with coffee and cognac, then tea with vodka. For soaking wet and colds it is quite appropriate drinks. Tents, sleeping bags, mattresses and other households were still being dumped in Mozdok, loading vehicles with ammunition and getting rid of everything superfluous.

... A conscript soldier named Raph sang, looking into the fire and stamping to the beat with a leaky kirzach:

And do not rush you to bury us,
We still have cases here ...

Soldiers vied with us, who had just arrived from Russia, about the battles in Grozny. They, it seems, did not believe that Grozny had already been taken, and they were still alive.

... About how in one of the houses, in the basement of which sat a machine-gun crew - two soldiers from the 3-th platoon, pleased mine. The platoonman climbed them out. Stumbled into the body in the dark, touched: still warm, but breathing is not audible. I wanted to find the pulse in my throat and found that there was no head. Found the second one - first of all I checked: is the head in place? It turned out to be in place, and even the pulse is palpable. I decided to pull it out. Vkolol promedol and took the legs ... Feet remained in his hands - by themselves.

The face of the platoon commander, Lieutenant Sergey D., when he tells me this, is completely calm. He speaks in detail and slowly, as if retelling the content of the film. Apparently, the human mind refuses to take seriously the reality of what is happening. This reality will still get him - after months, when he returns home.

... For information on how, in the same, 3-m platoon knocked out the bebampeshka. Of the entire crew, only the gunner survived - Junior Sergeant N. Ogloshchy and stunned by the battle, he did not leave the burning car. He escaped, just shooting the entire ammunition. A minute later, the BMP rushed so that the tower fell to the devil’s dogs: either the fuel tanks “played”, or it was blown over it again ...

... About how they took Minute and how the spirits during the assault hung prisoners of Russian soldiers on the windows ...

... About how, having visited the city Zoological Museum, our gallant motorized infantry decorated the towers of their tanks and infantry fighting vehicles with stuffed lynxes, wolves, jackals and other living creatures and how for all this ugly splendor of grinning animal faces the Chechens assigned the regiment the title "Reservoir Dogs" and "Teeth dragon "(known from radio intercepts).

Excitement suppresses fear

Almost every night, especially in the morning, we fought back. At dawn, putting observers, for four hours slept. Then I took a duffel bag with grenades, pegs and a string for stretch marks, one fighter with me and went to the "Zelenka" - to hang garlands of stretch marks. Yes, not anyhow, but with many tricks (“jumping pomegranate”, stretching with a long loop, “potato”, that is, without stretching, etc.). Along the way, we examined the spiritual footprints and tried to unravel their designs. All this night fuss all the time seemed to me rather confused. I could not understand why they climbed to us nightly: that, on our company, the light came together like a wedge, or what? Reflecting this way, I determined where to put the “secrets” (and whether to expose), and went to the 1 platoon unit to the company company - to receive the target.

For mining and for night work, I usually took with me the same fighter - the very one who rushed to blow up the sniper on the first night.
In fact, he was my gunner at the BMP, the squad leader; however, as a gunner, practically everyone could replace him, but as a sergeant he was not yet required: I had a little more than a dozen fighters. Sometimes I also took another soldier with me, calm, tacitly small, two-meter tall and bearish. He meekly dragged the bag of “Bumblebees” to the hump when we went to “make some noise” in country houses.

The experience gained once in a sapper training center deployed on the basis of a demining regiment derived from Afgan was useful. For four months in Chechnya, I hung several hundred of these "toys." I braided my first checkpoint in the Alkhanchur Valley with several belts of stretch marks. Every day I filled in the gaps formed during the night and added new stretch marks. We stayed here for more than a month, so soon only the roads themselves and a few passes in the “Zelenka” left for their reconnaissance groups and “secrets” remained unpolished.

Bringing "secrets" to "Zelenka" has become our usual practice; holding radio contact with them, roadblocks and company officers were aware of what was happening within a kilometer radius. As a rule, noticing a group and reporting about it, the “secret” from 1 – 2 a person receives a command not to shoot and continue observation.

The “secret” in such a difficult terrain is a most useful thing. When you sit on your block in a dull defense, you feel like a fool a fool: the bait that a predator wants to swallow. In the "secret" roles change: he is a fool, and you are a hunter. Excitement suppresses fear.

People sometimes ask me: how could it happen that yesterday’s student, the man of the most peaceful specialty in the world, a school teacher, turned into a murderer? I do not know what to answer, because I never felt like a murderer, even killing. You want to survive yourself and help your comrades in this, and you climb, like a Mohawk, on greens, put up stretches, go to ambushes and secrets, drive BMPs, hammer from Bumblebees and Flies, showing qualities not a “nerd” but a fighter.

Famous scientist, professor stories, world magnitude and one of the founding fathers of all modern Western historiography, Mark Blok (who is also an active fighter and one of the leaders of the French Resistance during the Nazi occupation) once said: “There are professional soldiers who will never become real warriors, and there are purely civilian people - warriors by vocation ... "It is not surprising that yesterday's" jackets "under the influence of" resentment for power "turn into fighters, and schoolchildren become good soldiers.

Of course, I am not a professional. Everything I did was based on bare enthusiasm and the need to survive. To learn something new, be sure to desire to learn (including from their subordinates). Professionals are not born. To ambush, you need desperate arrogance and faith in the rightness of your cause, which allows you to go for a deadly risk if it gives you the opportunity to kill the enemy. In order to fight at all, in addition to some inner human qualities, we need horse endurance: for it, I am grateful to the long-term fascination with the classic struggle (school SKA MVO). I am also grateful to Albert Makashov, who, when I was a conscript, was our commander and strictly watched that the soldiers first learned how to shoot, and only after that - sweep the streets (although it was also possible to sweep pretty badly).

Position re-equipment

20 February night was surprisingly calm. In the morning, the fighters spotted their bodywork with binoculars at Zelenka, about 200 meters. Did not shoot - tired. We lie on the roof, watch. One guest is sitting in the bushes, he hasn’t reached the stretch marks, and he probably isn’t going to. Approximately in the same place I left a passage through a minefield. An idea arose: to stun the Chechen with obscene fire from the grenade launchers and under the cover of this fire try to take the gangster alive.

Of course, a good Chechen is a dead Chechen. But the boys caught fire to exchange it for one of their own.

Three fighters began to bombard the spirit with VOGs, and I and my partner rushed down the aisle. After four volleys, as agreed, the fire stopped. Getting close, they saw a trench and some pieces of meat with scraps of clothing. It was a great position - right opposite our caponier for the BMP. Lay, wait. Getting light. If there was someone else there, then, apparently, everyone got away. At dawn, an unused RPG-18 (“Fly” of the old type) was found in the grass at the parapet.

Returning with a captured grenade launcher, they decided to rearrange the BMP so that they did not stick out in plain sight, like training targets. One hid under a canopy and threw all sorts of garbage and trash. The other one (from the 3 platoon) was driven backwards to some kind of barn. If necessary, they could quickly roll out on the firing lines - in caponiers.

Machine guns from the roofs also decided to remove. One machine-gun crew was “buried” under an old, abandoned crawler tractor. Another machine-gunner settled in the old concrete well, breaking through the loopholes in all directions, building a platform to stand, and throwing the gate torn from its hinges to prevent it from dripping.

For lack of a string for stretch marks, they closed the plot in "Zelenka" with barbed wire, spread out right across the grass like the MW, hanging a grenade without rings on it and stuck it in the ground.

The gas industry ranks are thinning ...

We had a lot of fuss because of spotters. KP regiment once even slightly fired from mortars. Slightly - because one of the "secrets" in time discovered the spotter, who worked from the roof of a country house, using tracer and PBS. One "Bumblebee" was enough to stop the mortar shelling. After that, our company (and others too) regularly sent groups to "free hunt" for spotters.

Five spotters worked in the area of ​​our company. In the morning they were going to a conditional place and leaving by some kind of car (judging by the tracks - BRDM or GAZ-66 with a Beteer protector). At the same time, in the afternoon, along our very deserted road, all the time, five tall but unarmed Chechens used to drive on GAZ-66, pretending to repair the gas pipeline and submitting documents to the Ministry of Emergency Situations.

One day, after an unsuccessful night attempt to cover one of the spotters, we braked them during the day, put muzzles in the dirt, tied up and decided to finish, when the commander of the company suddenly announced, who forbade shooting them and ordered them to be delivered to the regiment's command post.

Throwing the spirits into the BMP assault unit, I drove them to the checkpoint. Colonel B. ordered to take them to the filtration camp: let them understand. In the "filter" the riot policemen said that everything was full of them and they were doing so and so: take them to FGC.

The Federal Grid Company removed a written explanation from me and was incredibly surprised: they say, if these are spotters, why didn't you shoot them yourself right away? The circle is closed.

Here, out of nowhere, a certain officer drew up who convinced the security colonel that he knew these people as gas workers working under the Ministry of Emergency Situations. The colonel shrugged and ordered to let them go on all four sides. GAZ-66 returned them to the Chechens, and they drove off. To my surprise, then I read in “Soldier of Fortune” about this episode as presented by the mentioned officer - the author Andrei Miami. He very flatteringly called us, ordinary infantrymen, “special forces”, and spotters - “gasmen”. (see about this: Opposition. "Third Party" in the Chechen conflict - through the eyes of the man who prepared her for the battle).

In my defense, I want to say that after the described night flight of the Bumblebee, there were four day-time gas workers. Soon after a tip from a local resident, we burned two more. There were two day-time gas-makers, and they moved to ZIL-131. They easily passed by the roadblocks, presenting flawless documents, stopped where they wanted to “repair” the pipe and carefully examined our positions. These guys seemed to be philosophical about death. However, they stopped working near the checkpoint of the 8 th company.

Special forces raid

We were warned that there might be surprises on the night of February 23: exactly 50 years ago the Stalinist deportation of the Chechen population began that day. A group of Rostov “specialists” came to our bloc: they had an idea to set up an ambush between the 8-th company and Sadovaya blocks, assuming that the daytime civilians of this village are night-time Mujahideen doing their sorties at night, and returning in the morning to to their wives.

In the evening, a prolonged rain began to fall, in the middle of the night it passed into thick snow, which limited visibility to zero. "Specialists" carefully studied the layout of stretch marks and mines that I compiled, then they were divided into two batches. One party went to "Zelenka", and the second set out on display its BPR, cut the tape recorder to full volume and began to "celebrate" 23 February with might and main, imitating a total mess and drunkenness.

I don’t know what they did there in “Zelenka”, but in the middle of the night they began to tear stretch marks there, then suddenly pulled up the “monk”, and after half an hour the group returned and told them that somewhere there was overwhelmed. To celebrate, they settled in one of the houses, hung their rags around the stove and let them dry.

At this time, under the cover of snowfall, several spirits came to the roadblock. Our sentry guard, guarding the house where the “specialists” were resting, noticed them almost in 20 meters from him. Wildly shouting, he threw into the darkness of the RGD and began to water the snow whirlwind from the porch of his PKK. Some of my fighters launched a flare rocket. The spirits instantly retreated and dissolved in the snow — only the bushes cracked. Apparently, they decided not to take the fight, because the expected effect of surprise did not work: from all the posts, the infantry combed out the surrounding "Zelenka" from machine guns and grenade launchers. Soon everything calmed down.


In this spirit, the events were repeated every night. We were fired from afar or, trying to get close, ran across the "secrets" and stretch marks. But nothing serious happened: we have never undergone either a mortar or a grenade launcher. I was worried that I did not understand the tactics of the enemy. In principle, to destroy any checkpoint, it is enough to get to it at least 200 – 300 meters and then wipe it off the face of the earth with the help of “Bumblebees” or RPG-7. However, except for one case with that scumbag with “The Fly”, which we covered from grenade launchers, this did not happen. Trying to prevent such an opportunity in the future, I continued to mine the "brilliant green" on the most dangerous areas, exposed the "secrets" and went to them myself. It happened that less than half of the platoon remained on the guard of the actual checkpoint, while the rest dispersed around the neighborhood.

Understanding the futility of these attempts, I waited for the moment to come and they would still block us. It never happened. Maybe we took the right measures, and perhaps the Mujahideen got weak, untrained and stupid.

So we would have competed in stupidity, if in March we were not transferred to Argun.

February 27 for the first and last time we saw a spiritual helicopter. He flew over our positions, broadcasting to a loudspeaker and calling for the local population to resist the Russian troops, and the soldiers to shoot the officers and surrender to captivity, where they will be fed and taken home.
They shot him a little (more to clear his conscience) and, of course, did not hit.

If I had an RPG-7, maybe I would have got it, but, first, the RPG-7 was not in the company at all, and secondly, I just jumped naked out of the bath with only one machine gun in my hands , and machine gunners did not have time to react.

The next day they shot Palych, our captain-doctor. As usual, the "signaling" worked, the sentries opened fire, a short firefight ensued, the spirits quickly retreated, and everything died down. At first it seemed that no one was injured, and only fifteen minutes later they accidentally found the captain lying on the porch, prone in a pool of blood.

They reported on the radio to the company commander and rushed to the North through the “block” of the 1 platoon, where the company commander sat at the helm and drove like crazy.
The most annoying thing is that the doctor in general had no reason to lean out of the shelter. Curiosity failed ...
We had no other losses. Only one crank got a shard from the RGD-5, but stepped on his own stretch. A fragment of him with jokes, jokes pulled out with pliers and poured the hole formed with vodka. After which they made an attempt to impose a tourniquet above the injury site, but he did not give.

The losses of our opponents were, I think, more substantial. Personally, I am sure of one killed and at least two wounded. I burned the first “Bumblebee”, the second I covered it with a grenade launcher, I shot the third one in a “secret”: noticing someone's nightlight in the “Zelenka”, fired at him the entire PKK store (45 + 1 in the trunk) at random, after which he started running off for cries Mojahed, who announced the district.

In addition, someone regularly undermined stretch marks, although for a person experienced four seconds is enough to lie down at a safe distance from the explosion. I myself three times run up on my own stretch marks. However, not everyone is so lucky: many stretch marks were instantaneous (the fuse is disassembled and the fire conductor retarder is replaced with gunpowder from a cartridge).

Sometimes a lonely cow wandered to the mines - then we had fresh meat.


15 March we announced: all the guys are pretty relax - go to Argun, Gudermes and Shali. It's time to work!
A large brigade from Chebarkul arrived from Russia, to which we must transfer our positions.

Losses they began to bear from the first day. Leaving us a company of Chebarkulians, which changed us, a scheme of minefields and an 40-liter can of cognac, we rolled out onto the road and lined up in a column, waiting for the team to advance to the North. We didn’t have time to drive away from our roadblock, when one of the Chebarkul people caught a knife from their hearts, which flew out of the “Zelenka”: he was hanging around the forest belt not out of need, not out of curiosity. Wheezing and staggering, he stepped onto the road and fell backwards. Chebarkulites crowded around the wounded man at a loss, not knowing what to do. Pushing them, two of my friends pushed through to him: the medical instructor Karas and the gunner from my car Edik. The crucian quickly covered the hole with a sealing gasket from the individual package and injected a tube of promedol. Edik did artificial respiration.

From somewhere appeared "Ural" of our castle. Having thrown the body into the body, they rushed to the hospital. In the "Ural" I jumped on the move.
The truck was flying like crazy, bouncing on potholes. The wounded man jumped up and down like a ball. His head was wound on the knees of my gunner. He was dying. His pulse disappeared all the time, and then Edward began to beat his palms on his cheeks and shout: “Breathe, you bastard!” Surprisingly: the pulse appeared again ...

We are approaching the North. On the road - congestion. Having fastened the horn with the tracers, I begin to wet the long bursts into the air - over the cars, which hastily give way to us ... When we brought the guy to the hospital, he still wheezed. Soon, someone in a white bloodied coat came out and, wiping his hands on himself, said that the guy was over ...

This death of a completely unknown person struck me. I was overwhelmed with pity and indignation. Like in January, when I first saw on the television the mutilated corpses of Russian soldiers on the streets of Grozny and joyful mujahideen dancing their wild war dance. It was then that I ran to file a report on Chechnya ...

It was the second Russian soldier who was killed right before my eyes. Malice choked me. Well, good, gentlemen, Chechens! We will not know pity. We will kill you until you all die.

We turned into dangerous beasts. We did not fight - we took revenge and tried to survive in order to take revenge. I don’t care how fair this war is to Chechens. "My country is always right, because it is my country." Separatism must be harshly suppressed, without this no power can exist, especially such a "patchwork" as ours.

I have no hatred for Chechens today. But if tomorrow fate will again push me with them, I will kill them without pity.


After dropping caterpillars along the center of what used to be called the “city of Grozny,” the regiment moved east to Argun. Day and night, without stopping for an hour, artillery worked. Helicopters and beaky Rooks rushed over our heads. Somewhere in front, to the left and to the right, gaps roared, and at night everything around was illuminated with red.

The artillery worked in the squares: in the city, in the villages, simply in the mountains and in Zelenka. We have not yet begun the assault, and the western half of Argun has already been razed to the ground, to the very foundations.

At the approaches met a thin line of defense. Stopped entrenched. Ahead, without hiding, the Mujahideen walk in full growth. Nobody shoots them. We are waiting for the team, preparing for the assault. The city is here on the horizon. At least shoot him from tanks and infantry fighting vehicles. Gunners in the heat of the towers turn, can not wait for them. I’m clinging onto my back two “Bumblebee”: in the city, I think, they will come in handy.

One group of spirits with a white flag is sent in our direction. Not reaching two hundred meters, they stop, wave their hands: they say, go to us, we will talk.

Combat takes two fighters and goes to the negotiations. Behind him was the deputy commander of the 8 th company. If I didn’t take it, I went along with the deputy politician: it’s very curious to hear what the commanding fathers will discuss.

The "fathers" did not speak for long. Chechens asked if we were going to storm them. Kombat confirmed that this is what we are going to do now, only we will receive a team. The Chechens say: guys, wait a day or two to fight, we want, they say, to save the city from total destruction, and the messengers have already been sent to Dudayev to allow him to surrender the city.

Here, take our political politician and bryakni: “Your Dudayev is a fagot!” They very calmly answered, they say, yours too. There was nothing to argue with us, and we decided to live a couple of days without firing.

Apparently, the regiment liked this decision, because we never received the command for the assault, and after two days Argun really surrendered without a fight. To this day, I respectfully recall that old Chechen, whose wisdom and endurance saved a lot of blood on both sides. Nice to deal with a worthy opponent.

More than two hundred militiamen laid down weapon and wandered around the surrounding villages. However, their main forces retreated to Gudermes and entrenched there.
The battalion and vicious regiment moved up to Gudermes, sweeping it from the west, north and south.

The jokes ended

The war is gaining momentum. Regimental intelligence ran into an ambush. Spirits burned BTR: the driver-technician was killed, three scouts were seriously injured. At night, the KP regiment was fired from AGS. Our company stood nearby: we observed this matter. They asked for permission to go ahead and see who was so accurate, but they didn’t get the go-ahead. The shelling stopped by itself.

The whole beginning of April is intensively preparing for the assault. We understand that Gudermes will not easily give way to us: the jokes are over. Against us is about 800 spirits, to whom even Dudayev is not a decree, the most frostbitten. These will fight.

Our entire regiment, if we consider only the "clean" infantry without headquarters, rear areas and other things, is no more than 500 people. Spirits outnumber us, we their - fire force. However, they are at home, and they have many other advantages.

We were divided into small armored groups (tank or “Shilka” plus 2 – 3 BMP), each of which received the task to gain a foothold in its section of urban suburbs. Remembering Grozny, no one is going to take the city, launching vehicles with marching columns along the main streets.

4 April, we took Gudermes, having lost only a few people wounded, one was killed. Having mastered the outskirts, the 1 Battalion knocked the spirits out of the center, and by evening the VEs arrived, cleaning the city completely. In the center, in the building of the pedagogical school, the commandant's office was located. The arrival of veveshnik untied our hands, and the 6-th regiment moved further east.

While we were busy with Gudermes, having overtaken us, the battalion of some landing force rode ahead. Under Isti-Soo, they met with resistance and, reportedly, have already lost an 7 man.

Slowly and awkwardly, but terribly and inevitably, the regiment was rolling eastward - towards the Dagestan border, on the other side of which the regiment was preparing to face the border guards regiment. Spirits appeared between two skating rinks on a narrow strip of land, and this strip of “sovereign Ichkeria” inexorably narrowed.

Wolves and cubs

By the evening of April 7, our 3 and tank battalions approached Easti-Soo. Stopped, dug in, put up posts. Throughout the night, tankers equaled the village with the land. In the morning, the sun illuminated the remains of what was still marked on the map as “the village of Isti-Su.” All day they stood motionless. She worked intelligence.

Brought replenishment - contract. Wolves Mostly former police officers who were dismissed from the authorities under various articles. Serious men who can seriously fight.

I want, however, to say a kind word about our conscripts. These 18-year-old wolf cubs are worthy of respect: hungry, dirty, dead tired, who have borne the brunt of the battles in Grozny, evil as devils, ignorant of pity and fear ... For 30 – 40-year-old contractor, war is a hobby, a favorite thing, vocation, refuge, finally. For the 18-year-old, this is a tragedy and a non-healing trauma.

He has many times more difficult than an adult peasant. But no one can say that a conscript as a soldier is worse than a contract. In December – January there were no contract servicemen in Chechnya at all, and the regiment fought as it should.

9 April again moved forward. Dodaviv armor accidentally surviving buildings and crackling caterpillars on brick kroshevu at the place of East-Su, the battalions rushed forward right along the excellent asphalt road.

Apparently, intelligence reported that everything was clean up to Novogroznenskaya. In the headphones, every few minutes, “Caliber zero-eight” (that is, “Attention, everyone!”) Was heard. I am “Geologist-57” (commander's call sign). Everyone speed up! ”

Guns - herringbone: from the head machine - to the left, the next - to the right, and so on throughout the column. Machines move with jerks and a snake, at a good speed: so as not to hit. I stuck my forehead to the triplex, I pressed the wheel to my chest, all the attention was on the road so as not to fly away. BMP - the large object healthy: 13 tons. On the asphalt behaves capriciously, the caterpillars slide like on the ice ...

Suddenly in the headset is heard: “Caliber zero-eight! To battle! Aim for ten hours! Caliber zero-eight, I - "Geologist-57". All - the fire! "

What? I go up in a marching way and gamblingly twirl my head off: what kind of goal is this for ten hours? On the left and in front, about a kilometer away from the head car, a truck with an aluminum booth and a blue cabin is dusting down the road away from the highway: not the ZIL-130, not the GAZ-53. Collective farmers any ...

Brakes, infantry frayed with armor. A gun barrel swam overhead. I quickly hired the hatch so as not to deafen the shot.

Guns barked across the column. The truck disappeared in the dust raised by the explosions, and suddenly from this dust a fire-reddish sheaf of fire rose up to the sky. A second later came the roar of a powerful explosion. BMP rocked the blast wave. I wonder what kind of vegetables these collective farmers carried?


We stopped in front of Novogroznenskaya. Behind it is the border to which we have pressed the spirits. The 3 Battalion locked the road. From the south, they were surrounded by companies of the 1 th battalion. From the north - paratroopers. From the east - frontiers. They have nowhere else to go. We are waiting for the team to the "last and decisive." In the air it “smells” of victory and the end of the war. We learn from the radio that Shali, Bamut and Vedeno are taken.

Our company is located in the area of ​​a cemetery. This is very convenient: here the perfume will not cover us with mortars. We spent the night in some kind of religious structure. We stand in front of Novogroznenskaya day after day and watch the spirits of cockroaches spread out from under our noses. In the afternoon, along with refugees, Chechen spirits leave. They travel without weapons, and with documents they have full order. At night, groups of armed men crawl away. These are foreign mercenaries: Arabs, Ukrainians, Balts and others. Their affiliation is not a secret to anyone, it is enough to sit on the radio for an hour or two, driving across all frequencies in order to get some idea of ​​the enemy. What a speech you will not hear!

We should have completed the offensive, finally destroying this grouping in Novogroznenskaya. But ... "do not dare, perhaps, the commanders of others to tear uniforms of Russian bayonets?". When the battalion reconnaissance caught the spirit, he carried all sorts of nonsense about the generals ... Only after returning home, I learned from the TV news that the “language” was not crazy at all: Maskhadov’s bid was in Novogroznenskaya. This is probably why our generals invented a truce in order to stop us: but what good, the war will end ... What kind of “truce” with gangsters and mojaheds can there be? What kind of nonsense?

At your own risk, in groups of 3 – 4 people do night raids to the village and, trying to prevent the spirits from sprawling, we burn and fire everything that leaves and crawls out of the outskirts.

In our company there was a constant night sabotage group: I, Klop (ensign-technician) and a radio operator-conscript Terminator, who is also the “personal bodyguard” of the company commander. Similar groups work in other companies. Tasks cut battalion.

The respite

The night had lain in the rain on the bare ground, and in vain. Everything would be fine, but today I began to cough up, and because of this I was removed from the night work: “Rest, get better.” There is nothing to argue: coughing in ambush - this is no good. With regret, I give my night glasses to the guys and go to the hot springs - “get well”. The sources are in a deep gorge, a kilometer west of our positions.

Taking advantage of the lull, I have been picking my BMP all day long: I have eliminated all air leaks, adjusted the handbrake, tie rods, brake bands. Removing the armor, cleaned the radiators. He pulled up the goose, changed the oil, set up the internal communication properly, serviced the batteries, scooped up all the dirt from the floor, tore off the "extra pieces" from the bulwarks. Having driven a car into a stream, I washed it all inside and out. Well, there is where to wash and most.
Invented a new dish: turtle baked in the coals. No worse than American legs.

In early May, we were transferred to the mountains northwest of Gudermes, to the southern tip of the Baragunsky Range. From here we hold at sight the railway bridge over the Sunzha, which is guarded by riot police. Before riot policemen cut out, they will have time to call the fire on themselves.

Every night they have a "war." Someone, as usual, climbs around the “greenbacks” around and breaks the stretch marks. Riot policemen from the evening until the morning are firing around without restoring with all kinds of weapons. After a few days, our 7-i company replaces them. Night "war" immediately stop: the infantry is spreading on the "secrets" and quietly shoots spirits. After a couple of days, no one around is climbing, and the 7-I company is sleeping peacefully.

At the same time, “up above”, there is absolutely silence, no war. Despite this, observers are posted around the clock, stretch marks are put. Routine prophylaxis. Farther north, the 1 Battalion is located along the ridge. Tankers, as usual, were scattered around all roadblocks.

Around - not a soul. Beauty and nature. The weather is wonderful: the heat, the rain, and then take and the snow falls at night. In the morning everything is melting, and in the afternoon - again Africa. And far to the south high mountains are visible, where the snow never melts. Someday we will get to them ...

Chebrets are growing all around, and we are constantly brewing it with tea. Nearby - Sunzha. If you throw a grenade at her, then the fish is collected full duffel bag.
And here everything is teeming with snakes, and our menu is enriched with a new dish: a snake sliced ​​and roasted in a skillet.

And among all these “beauties and wonders” I increasingly dream about dirty and boring, but such an inaccessible Russia. Probably affects fatigue. Many of my comrades have been injured or killed, and I haven't got a scratch yet. How long can this luck last?


We are preparing to go to the south, in the area of ​​Shali, Avtury, Kurchaloy, Mairtun, where the militia have intensified, not letting any militiamen to their villages.
One of these days, the term of the “moratorium” (another ingenious invention of Russian politicians) expires, after which the rabid dogs will again be pulled off the leash.
We are replenished with contractors and young people. Now in our company about 70 people. Also gave two restored combat vehicles. We teach new recruits to shoot, we run around the slides in the “armor”, we explain how to mine, monitor, use night-time devices, radio communications.

Young soldiers, as they say, “just from the train,” not like they shoot - even the footwomen can't really shake, but after wearing a bullet-proof vest for half an hour, they fall from fatigue.

Back in February, I filled my “bronik” with a triple set of titanium plates and I am very pleased with it, because I was convinced of its usefulness on my own skin, when, having received one blow to the stomach, which had knocked me off my legs, I found an AKM 7,62 bullet stuck between plates.

Of course, the argument between supporters and opponents of the bulletproof vest is endless. The usual argument of the latter is that it is heavy and deprives the fighter of mobility. I must, however, notice that the weight of a bulletproof vest I have long ceased to notice and can carry him for days, even sleep in it. Habit!

Worst of all - new contract. These are not the professionals and enthusiasts who were recruited at the beginning of the war. Went drunk, torn, homeless and just unemployed. One of them was immediately taken to the hospital with his hand torn off: he played with the Fly. The other was soon fired for heavy drinking. The third dived into the abyss on the "Urals" from the support platoon. The fourth one fell from the tank tower under the tracks of passing infantry fighting vehicles ... The survivors began to think something and after some repression and massacre more or less sobered up.

So the contract soldier is different. For me, it is better to get a replenishment from young and undeterred salags who can learn something than this rabble who can only be used for cannon fodder.
It is good that quite good guys got into my platoon who are ready to learn and ultimately survive.

A Farewell to Arms! See you soon?

We are losing. Dozens of wounded and dead. A battalion deputy master engineer “Uncle Zhenya”, an elderly and cheerful lieutenant colonel, a common favorite, was blown up on a mine ...

We do not get out of battle. We opened a hornet's nest here and now we are fighting not only at night, but also during the day. We were allowed through Shali and Avtury without a fight, after which the mousetrap slammed shut. Every day the space in front of us is handled by helicopters: they help us a lot. Kurchaloy is half destroyed. We proceed to Alleroy and Mirtunu. The other day, the 7 Company was half destroyed ...

There is neither the strength nor the desire to describe this mess in detail. Thank God, my term expired two weeks ago, I look forward to replacing.

And finally, on May 31, I received a two-month vacation (month for 1995 a year, 24 of the day for Chechnya and 4 of the day for the trip) and I can go home. The contract expires. The ultimate dream is to eat to the heap of good food, then sleep for a day, then get into the shower, and then sleep for another day.

The soul is torn in half. The joy of realizing the simple fact that you still survived is overshadowed by guilt in front of your comrades. After all, you throw them here, you are a traitor and a deserter, although no one will ever tell you that ... Some part of me will remain here forever - in Chechnya.
You can make a knightly gesture and refuse to leave, remaining to avenge the dead comrades, as did Dima-Terminator.

But I am not a knight without fear and reproach, and not Rambo. I still need to finish my education, and then - who knows? - Perhaps, if by that time the state reconsiders its attitude towards the army, I will return to military service - already a lieutenant. And then, I suppose, I still have to meet with the Chechens (after all, they will not stop not reached).
In the meantime, goodbye weapon!

Fight, student! Memories of the first Chechen
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  1. Pilat2009
    Pilat2009 18 May 2013 08: 22
    47 th
    It's time to switch to a professional army
    1. Mitek
      Mitek 18 May 2013 10: 04
      Quote: Pilat2009
      It's time to switch to a professional army

      I put you a minus. What do you consider a professional Army? Contractor? And what will happen when they run out? I am sure that the Army should be combined. And contract soldiers and conscripts. Double basses on posts related to sophisticated equipment requiring a long preparation, and the rest are conscripts. In addition, to teach the most sensible of conscripts to handle this very complex technique. The contract army for our country is utopia. And if something happens, all men must be able to handle weapons and know at least the basics of military affairs.
      Or do you think that the author of this article did not fight professionally? Let me remind you that apart from the name "contract soldier", he has only a civilian university behind him. Did the conscripts fight badly? It is necessary to qualitatively improve military training in units (which is being done now).
      1. skeptic-
        skeptic- 18 May 2013 16: 42
        Quote: Mitek
        Quote: Pilat2009
        It's time to switch to a professional army

        Better, more professionally prepare recruits. Because they will be in the future, a professionally prepared reserve. And for more complex professions, you need to prepare in the DOSAAF system, before the army, on a voluntary basis, with a guaranteed appeal, according to the chosen specialization. The positions are more complex - contract.
      2. Simon
        Simon 18 May 2013 23: 27
        I completely agree with you. For a professional army, people have to take people from somewhere, and the best is the already prepared conscripts than the young conscripts, who still need to be taught everything.
    2. Eleventh
      Eleventh 18 May 2013 11: 38
      A professional army (an army of mercenaries) is always a deliberately losing option, it is enough to simply analyze the history of civilization for at least the last thousand years and see that in most cases mercenaries were the cause of the collapse of states. The now existing so-called professional US army, which "our friends" want to equate the whole world with, is a big corporation, big business, or rather its part and tasks it performs purely raider-like - robbing foreign territories and setting up an occupation regime. Perhaps only for this, it will only fit. Russia faces completely different goals and objectives.
      1. smirnov
        smirnov 19 May 2013 00: 11
        The same Rome ended with the arrival of mercenaries ... I agree that both of them are needed, and what kind of man, if you did not hold a weapon in your hands and do not know what to do with it.
    3. vjhbc
      vjhbc 18 May 2013 15: 07
      the main army should be conscript only it gives a guarantee of success in a big war but there must be pros for local conflicts such as the MTR and one more time to increase the draft age to 21 years because the current 18 correspond in their psycho-physical properties to 14 years old 4 summer prescription
      Quote: Pilat2009
      It's time to switch to a professional army
    4. Masterzserg
      Masterzserg 24 May 2013 18: 54
      Mdya, put one minus and away we go ... Not a good trend for society. And the man simply wrote that he needed a professional army. "And what will happen when they(contractors) run out " Mitek writes to nothing, and the recruits are endless? What is the motivation for conscripts to serve? That the boys fought for razd ... Yeltsin and did it professionally does not justify the army on conscription. Here amers are embarking on adventures around the world, so their soldiers didn’t find fault with the government, they wanted to, they went themselves, everything is in your hands. And we have thrown the boys to die, it’s not clear why, while at the time NTV they cursed them from the rear, as they could. I think if a country with ambitions, in which the army should be, as they say, at hand, should have a contract in which people served knowingly, voluntarily and understanding the possible consequences. After all, wars may not be directly related to the security of the country.
      1. Vidok
        Vidok 24 May 2013 20: 43
        And what was the motivation of the conscripts of the Soviet generation? For example, I went to serve in the SA with one motivation - to defend the Motherland. We knew one thing, that as long as we had an army and I was part of this army (professional or amateur), many conventional or non-conventional opponents of the desire to "butt" with us at a shot distance would not be much. After serving two years of the urgent and having studied at the military school for another four, I came to the conclusion that two years is not enough for an urgent (not to mention one year, as in the current conditions). My opinion: in order to have a combat-ready and well-controlled army, it is necessary to start with ideology (by the way, in this matter the Americans are a big plus). To restore such a subject as CWP in schools. Create a system of benefits for conscripts, as is done in the Israeli army. Improve the combat training system. To shift all household support and household work onto the shoulders of civil organizations. Improve the school and the training of junior command personnel (here's the contract professionals), and so on. But the units and subdivisions that perform special tasks should consist of professionals. And in the end, if the entire male (and in some places, female) population fulfills its honorable duty and duty, then in case of general mobilization there will be no need to spend a lot of money and a lot of time on teaching the mobilized elementary things. That is, you do not need to reinvent the wheel, you need to modernize and improve it in the light of the present moment with a perspective for the future.
        1. Masterzserg
          Masterzserg 24 May 2013 21: 51
          Quote: Vidok
          And what was the motivation of the conscripts of the Soviet generation? For example, I went to the CA to serve with one motivation - to defend the homeland.

          You have a lot of respect for this. In principle, I very much agree. If it’s necessary to serve conscripts, it’s only for training purposes, and combat tasks should be performed exclusively by a professional army. In these realities of life.
    5. Ka3ak
      Ka3ak 27 May 2013 09: 39
      Conscripts know how to fight no worse. It all depends on their training, staff selection, work with them, as well as the attitude to all these things bosses.
  2. a.hamster55
    a.hamster55 18 May 2013 08: 32
    Thank you - for not everyone with weapons is a WARRIOR!
    1. Phantom Revolution
      Phantom Revolution 18 May 2013 11: 55
      Of course, but these creatures generals, they only need their medals for the fat belly, and how many soldiers will put them to spit. Especially then the drunkard ebne and the thief Berezovsky, who had poher at all, ruled.
      1. Hleb
        Hleb 18 May 2013 14: 40
        to these creatures generals

        probably need to clarify the names to be called.
        what to generalize
      2. Rider
        Rider 18 May 2013 20: 47
        Quote: Phantom Revolution
        Of course, but these creatures generals

        During the war in Chechnya in the 1994-1996 years the sons died:
        Lieutenant General ANOSHIN Gennady Yakovlevich; Major General NALETOV Gennady Afanasevich; Lieutenant General SUSLOV Vyacheslav Fedorovich; Lieutenant General of PULIKOVSKY Konstantin Borisovich; Major General Anatoly Mikhailovich FILIPENK; Colonel General Shpak George Ivanovich. His sons were seriously injured: Major General ALEXANDROV Vadim Fedorovich; Colonel-General KAZANTSEV Viktor Germanovich; Lieutenant General TARTYSHEV Alexander Tikhonovich. In 1999, the son of Lieutenant General SOLOMATIN Viktor Alexandrovich was killed in Chechnya.
        The son of the Minister of the Ministry of Internal Affairs, A. Kulikov, fought in both wars in Chechnya. Worthily fought in the Special Forces, was wounded. And this is normal and inspires respect for both fathers and sons. Over the years, the sons of nine generals and fifty-five colonels have died in Chechnya.
        1. Hleb
          Hleb 18 May 2013 21: 30
        2. dvnosyrev
          dvnosyrev April 2 2014 14: 39
          the son of Lieutenant General Shchepin, Yuri Fedorovich, Yuri Shchepin, captain, commander of a tank company of the 131st separate motorized rifle brigade, died in Grozny on January 2, 1995.
          1. dvnosyrev
            dvnosyrev April 2 2014 20: 09
            It was my classmate and a wonderful person!
            At the time of graduation, his father was the chief of staff of a group of forces, but neither Yura nor his father began to pursue a career as a "general's son". Yura grew to the commander of a tank company of the 131st brigade thanks to his own knowledge, authority and skills. Under the command of the commander of the brigade of the Hero of Russia Colonel Savinov I.A. participated in the storming of Grozny and died heroically.
            There have always been generals-creatures, as well as leaders of different levels, they still are. Fortunately, now the President has "pinned to the nail" the "fifth column" of officials and generals.
            Well, to the comrades generals from the list above, our officer, soldier, human bow, eternal respect and memory to them and their sons - the true patriots of the Motherland !!!
  3. crasever
    crasever 18 May 2013 09: 09
    Thanks to such soldiers as Aleksey, who were in the past, are in the present and will be in the next, the Russian Army was, is and will be invincible !!!
  4. Slevinst
    Slevinst 18 May 2013 10: 01
    otdichnaya article, thank you, not everyone can voluntarily go to risk their lives, many people need life to make it, but many will not help, as my grandfather said to him from heaven, during the Second World War who were afraid and pissed, they were usually the first to die, those who kept cold determination beat the fascists particularly effectively
  5. Strashila
    Strashila 18 May 2013 10: 14
    Manning an army by conscription proved its right to exist ... of course, it is not enough to get a high-quality fighter for a year, but this is better than to be left without a reserve. The Soviet army was actually professional; abound.
  6. almost demobil
    almost demobil 18 May 2013 10: 41
    Now all this scum that this Soldier did not finish off, rides cayenne around the capital, spreads its arms and tries to impose its bestial laws on us. When will the GDP move to the next stage of "its" restructuring? I really want to believe that this stage exists, but Russia will find soldiers like the author of the article, I'm sure.
    1. mars6791
      mars6791 22 May 2013 23: 17
      gdp is the same as ebn so hardly
  7. black_eagle
    black_eagle 18 May 2013 11: 26
    Article of 1997, I wonder what is the fate of the author now?
  8. NKVD
    NKVD 18 May 2013 11: 37
    Shame on Yeltsin and his team betraying such men
  9. Makarov
    Makarov 18 May 2013 12: 27
    Cool written ... the story is full, excellent style)))
  10. Nicotine 7
    Nicotine 7 18 May 2013 13: 03
    Replacement! What a wonderful word! And you have a real chance to break out of this madhouse. Damn, 18 years have passed, but it seems that it was yesterday.
  11. gych
    gych 18 May 2013 13: 18
    the professional army should consist of contract soldiers and conscripts (the general duty is to at least let the police pass, otherwise God forbid that most of the cases do not even know which side to approach the machine with!) And the professional army is not an army of mercenaries, but an army where there will be soldiers learn not to stack cubes of snow, but tsp
    1. Simon
      Simon 18 May 2013 23: 32
      Here I do not agree with you. Conscripts are not soldiers yet, but conscripts are soldiers who are trained in units and serve.
  12. Prapor Afonya
    Prapor Afonya 18 May 2013 13: 56
    Quote: Mitek
    Quote: Pilat2009
    It's time to switch to a professional army

    I put you a minus. What do you consider a professional Army? Contractor? And what will happen when they run out? I am sure that the Army should be combined. And contract soldiers and conscripts. Double basses on posts related to sophisticated equipment requiring a long preparation, and the rest are conscripts. In addition, to teach the most sensible of conscripts to handle this very complex technique. The contract army for our country is utopia. And if something happens, all men must be able to handle weapons and know at least the basics of military affairs.
    Or do you think that the author of this article did not fight professionally? Let me remind you that apart from the name "contract soldier", he has only a civilian university behind him. Did the conscripts fight badly? It is necessary to qualitatively improve military training in units (which is being done now).

    I completely agree! The former conscript is a reserve, he is like an NZ weapon that needs to be cleaned (trained, trained) and will be ready for battle, not like a soldier who did not smell gunpowder.
  13. Prapor Afonya
    Prapor Afonya 18 May 2013 14: 04
    Quote: Strashila
    Manning an army by conscription proved its right to exist ... of course, it is not enough to get a high-quality fighter for a year, but this is better than to be left without a reserve. The Soviet army was actually professional; abound.

    As for the service life, I agree, a year is not enough, but in the book "GRU Spetsnaz-Fifty Years of History. Twenty Years of War. Kozlov suggests that a service life of at least 3 years should be introduced for army spetsnaz fighters, because in two years a soldier cannot fully master the skills of sabotage reconnaissance, in principle, I agree with him!
  14. GEO
    GEO 18 May 2013 15: 18
    Thank you Alexey! For the Motherland and for the article.
  15. KononAV
    KononAV 18 May 2013 16: 18
    The guys did a great job!
  16. George
    George 18 May 2013 16: 31
    A wonderful first-hand account.
  17. kpbrk
    kpbrk 18 May 2013 17: 14
    I just remembered my youth, this is an article from the "Soldier of Fortune" of the second half of the 90s ...
  18. Dimy4
    Dimy4 18 May 2013 18: 23
    Well done guys! Despite the almost open betrayal of the country's leadership, they did their hard work.
    1. We fought, we know
      We fought, we know 19 May 2013 23: 47
      Of course they completed it, but for some reason, before the war, Chechnya fed Russia, and after two wars Ramzan Kadyrov collects tribute from Russia)))
  19. datur
    datur 18 May 2013 19: 47
    Regiment as it put on our helmet, after 15 minutes! said, well, it's like that !!! wink
    1. don.kryyuger
      don.kryyuger 18 May 2013 21: 50
      That guy started, and I ended. And again by storming Grozny I myself served in the 276th regiment, it was a dashing time! The guys were thugs. And again they did not let them finish off! The swan "in peace" came. Peacemaker "his mother !!!
      1. We fought, we know
        We fought, we know 19 May 2013 23: 44
        Rejoice that he came home all by himself, and not in a zinc box and in pieces. And pray to your Jewish god that you wouldn’t be in Grozny again. This time, you might not be so lucky.
  20. Kazanok
    Kazanok 18 May 2013 20: 30
    I liked the article! I was only surprised that homemade stretch marks .. really there were no normal factory mines ...
    1. Hleb
      Hleb 18 May 2013 21: 34
      what is a stretch in the article is described. how and from what they did. but for example, we did not disassemble the fuse for instant-filed
    2. ed65b
      ed65b 22 May 2013 23: 25
      What dude minus can really not know.
  21. uladzimir.surko
    uladzimir.surko 19 May 2013 04: 12
    I am glad that they remembered about this magazine in the Russian edition! hi The original version is bad advertising! hi
  22. honest jew
    honest jew 19 May 2013 13: 26
    14 th
    maybe if by that time the state reconsiders its attitude to the army, I will return to military service - already a lieutenant. And then, I suppose, I still have to meet with the Chechens (after all, they will not stop not achieved) .....

    The words of a wimp who is afraid to admit defeat !!!!
    1. not good
      not good 19 May 2013 20: 01
      A person is simply tired - this is not cowardice, but a small gesheft, of course, requires more courage.
    2. aleshka
      aleshka 19 May 2013 20: 25
      I apologize to the mods, but you!
    3. ed65b
      ed65b 22 May 2013 23: 27
      Demolish an honest Jew to the rank and file.
    4. rexs rexsov
      rexs rexsov 23 May 2013 07: 25
      Bearded in a chicha and hat. The Spaniard won his war. About a wimp. He really left his wife with a small child, business and flew to fight because he could not watch how young growth was crumbling. Conscience did not allow him to look at it calmly. So hold your tongue.
    5. valokordin
      valokordin 23 May 2013 15: 08
      There are no honest Jews
  23. Fregate
    Fregate 19 May 2013 15: 00
    In one breath, such story articles are read. Respect to the author, we do not shout, we will tear everyone, but the DB signed a contract and went to fight.
  24. pav-pon1972
    pav-pon1972 19 May 2013 15: 42
    I wonder where is the Spaniard now? Maybe he became an officer or civilian? Thanks to him for the article .... This is our story ... Is it good or bad. But ours. And it must be protected and remembered.
    1. rexs rexsov
      rexs rexsov 21 May 2013 22: 09
      In the civilian world. Successful businessman.
  25. Yozhas
    Yozhas 19 May 2013 20: 15
    Not everyone will be able to do this, leave everything and leave without knowing whether you will come back or not. Change the fun student life for footcloths and trenches in the mud. Respect and respect for such people. And every "Jew" who yells that these are the words of a weakling, let him try to rethink his "Jewish" values ​​(put meat and milk in one refrigerator) !!!
  26. We fought, we know
    We fought, we know 19 May 2013 23: 39
    How beautiful everyone writes, all well, such heroes, straight "evil Chechens" were strangled with their bare hands. Only now I myself saw how crap Russian soldiers on New Year's Eve in Grozny and the whole world now sees how Russia pays tribute to Kadyrov.
    1. Pilat2009
      Pilat2009 20 May 2013 01: 03
      It’s not the soldiers who are to blame, but the one who commanded
      Well, the one who threw young in Grozny-hello prof army
      According to the mind, it was necessary to pick and make fire
      But do not worry someday, and it’s not all Kadyrov’s turn to sit in the Kremlin
      1. The comment was deleted.
  27. mshl
    mshl 20 May 2013 01: 16
    Quote: don.kryyuger
    That guy started, and I ended. And again by storming Grozny I myself served in the 276th regiment, it was a dashing time! The guys were thugs. And again they did not let them finish off! The swan "in peace" came. Peacemaker "his mother !!!

    + 100500.
    Was he still called two hundred and seventy funny? Or even then stopped? 3 SMEs, 7th company.
    VUS 121, dmb-87, spring.
  28. AK44
    AK44 20 May 2013 09: 12
    Cool article!
  29. Myasnov
    Myasnov 20 May 2013 15: 37
    Good fit article!
  30. smershspy
    smershspy 20 May 2013 16: 47
    Lord! Here I read a lot of good and true comments, but I would like to note the following: you need to improve the training of draftees, conduct practical exercises in special units, train soldiers in the art of war, and not walk officers on parade ground and shoot drunken windows at barracks, paint fences , build cottages .... (from the words of the serviceman of the unit (the number of the unit of the Republic of Belarus and the city is not indicated at the request of the serviceman)).
    PS Chechnya! The officers and the entire General Staff should be tried! There were many inexperienced soldiers in Chechnya and this is a fact! The country was rolling into a hole! And the boys were thrown under the bullets and knives of mercenaries, "fighters for independence", bandits who lived and live in war! How many prisoners, killed, crippled destinies ...! We must educate and train the military so that they can fight and not die! I have the honor!
  31. smershspy
    smershspy 20 May 2013 16: 51
    Lord! I completely forgot about our leaders, leaders who delayed ... and ruined the army, ruined the Motherland! They would be there! I would look at them! I have the honor!
  32. pa_nik
    pa_nik 21 May 2013 13: 42
    Lexey the Spaniard, thanks! hi
  33. albai
    albai 21 May 2013 21: 03
    The Spaniard is great! He swallowed the article at once. Everything is objective and convex. On such "crickets" the Army also rests. I think we need to switch to a system of training companies right in the shelves. Directly from the recruiting offices in the unit. There, there will be enough company-level officers and contract soldiers, and it will be more convenient to train young people, for a month of the KMB and 2-3 months later, soldiers can be trained specifically in the necessary specialties. And then from the training regiments only quantitatively and will provide, without taking into account the / specialties. We, too, are trying to recruit special forces units only with contract soldiers, and they immediately turn into smut of the command and civilian neighbors of the unit. And you won't keep them in the mountains all the time.
  34. rexs rexsov
    rexs rexsov 21 May 2013 22: 08
    The Spaniard forgot to mention out of modesty that when leaving for the contract he left a small but strong and profitable business created from scratch. The Spaniard is because he has Spanish roots. In general, he is a real man.
  35. ed65b
    ed65b 22 May 2013 13: 29
    Officers must be judged and the entire General Staff!

    Fundamentally, the officer does not agree. To a hatred, many real combat officers put their lives to save soldiers. And executing stupid criminal orders in the first place they thought not about their own skin but about the boys. And the soldiers, seeing such an officer, gave their lives for their commander. There are many examples for 2 companies and their Pts are easy to find.
  36. Su24
    Su24 23 May 2013 02: 54
    Oh, in vain the author did not renew the contract.
  37. valokordin
    valokordin 23 May 2013 15: 06
    I read it with interest, the author owns the pen feeling as if you yourself are fighting there. A military man is a person who obeys orders, sometimes even criminal ones. This is not his fault, and when the whole bitch press begins, together with shitcrats, to condemn the intelligence commander, Captain Wolf, for shooting "peaceful teachers", and then also to judge him. Let them take up arms and try to stop these nationalist Wahhabis. Hedgehog in their ass.
  38. wecher75
    wecher75 23 May 2013 18: 02
    Molotets Spaniard
  39. Naval
    Naval 24 May 2013 00: 28
    Many thanks to the author! Interesting and instructive! Respect.
  40. smershspy
    smershspy 24 May 2013 17: 46
    Quote: ed65b
    Officers must be judged and the entire General Staff!

    Fundamentally, the officer does not agree. To a hatred, many real combat officers put their lives to save soldiers. And executing stupid criminal orders in the first place they thought not about their own skin but about the boys. And the soldiers, seeing such an officer, gave their lives for their commander. There are many examples for 2 companies and their Pts are easy to find.

    I agree that the officer is not the same! Yes, there were real officers, but there were also nits "officers" and "generals"!
    We must not forget about those who gave criminal orders! Here they must be judged! Pity the boys! I have the honor!