Conversations with Your Own: The Driver Who Did Nothing
Necessary foreword
Today we have a peculiar situation at Military Review: we are talking about many things in terms of a special military operation, about aircraft, drones, rockets And so on, but we unfairly leave people out. Therefore, after consulting collectively, we decided that we must correct the current situation. That is, we must start writing about those whose lives have become a war. A daily war, first and foremost, with circumstances.
It's no secret that, according to the Supreme Commander's order, a member of the Special Military Command may leave service at the discretion of the Military Medical Commission. And the implications of this are self-explanatory. They both leave the service and join the ranks of the disabled. These are young men whose stories simply make your head spin. And their "I didn't do anything wrong" simply makes your head spin.
So, we'll search, talk, write, and tell stories. This is the little that the guys who returned from the war and remained in it forever deserve.
The driver who did nothing
My first interlocutor was a native of the Oryol region, Junior Sergeant Veniamin Sergeevich Lyakhov.
A man of great spirit and tungsten patience. He has a titanium plate in his head, his skull is deformed, his left arm is practically useless, but his left leg allows him to walk. It affected the left side of his body, practically a stroke. He has to constantly stretch his arm; the nerves haven't recovered. His leg... Every day, Veniamin walks 4,5 km to work. On foot. And the same distance back. He learned to do everything with one hand. Every day is a small victory over himself. Over thresholds and steps, over everyday life.
And yet, when I suggest we talk, they say, "I didn't do anything like that..." Now I want to scream. Well, what did I do? What were the awards for? The most respected soldier's medal, "For Courage"—what was that for? Yes, precisely for courage, because for a year and a half...
Okay, let's go in order.
Question: We'll probably start with you simply telling us how you joined the army, how you served, and how you ended up in the North Military District.
Answer: It all started when I was called up for military service. In the summer of 2021, in July. I started serving. I ended up in the 4th tank Division, or more precisely, to an anti-aircraft missile regiment (the 538th Guards Tarnopol Order of Alexander Nevsky Anti-Aircraft Missile Regiment, part of the 4th Tank Division). As a driver in the logistics company.
It was going well, nothing to complain about. In October, the company commander approached me, asking if I should sign a contract. Well, you see, you're not upset, he's a responsible guy, money, prospects, and all that. I thought: why not? Honestly, there aren't many jobs around my area, so I signed the contract. It turned out that on October 12th, my fellow countryman and I signed it together.
Well, we're back to serving. Everything was basically as promised: the same amount of work, better pay. I served right up until the SVO.
Q: How did you enter the SVO?
A: It's very simple. The company commander tells us to start up all the vehicles now, and we're the logistics company, checking them out, because we're about to have a training exercise. We'd just literally returned from training in KapYar. So, we start everything up, check them out, form a column, and finally the train arrives, we load everything up, and we don't even know where we're going yet.
Of course, all this magnificence wasn't loaded and shipped in a single day; it all took several days. So, we loaded it up and headed to Kursk. We arrived. The question arose: who would unload it? It turned out there was no one. We didn't have many contract soldiers, and not all of them left the unit on the first trains. And conscripts weren't accepted at all.
We had to quickly bring in conscripts, and the trains were unloaded with them. During the unloading, crates of live ammunition started to appear en masse. That's when the first doubts crept in that they weren't telling us something. Why so much live ammunition if they were just training exercises? Training exercises with so much live ammunition are like that...
And then we walked to the border and stopped there. The company commander came and divided us up. He selected several conscript drivers to deliver diesel fuel and some food, if necessary. They rounded us up, basically, leaving the contract soldiers and taking everyone else. All the conscripts stayed right at the border. And we continued on.
Q: Next – across the border to Ukraine?
A: Yes. We went. We ended up near Sumy. That's where things really started. Two of our regiment were killed. My Ural was also hit by shrapnel... A lot of people got hit there... It so happened that I was dragged back to the border in a tank, and then I was looking for our headquarters there.
Q: So you were hurt too?
A: No, no, the Ural was riddled with bullets, but I was unharmed. Someone had to pick me up from the border and send me to get another car.
I finally arrived back at the Russian border, and I was in complete shock, of course. For a long time, I couldn't believe it all. Then it somehow eased.
Then they quickly transferred us from the Kursk direction to Belgorod, so it turns out we were entering through Belgorod a second time. We were standing around for a long time, waiting for the equipment. My Ural was completely lost in the repair shop, so they brought me a new one.
By that time, we'd already taken Izyum, Kupyansk, our infantry. We'd just gone into Kupyansk to pick up the infantry, the infantry had passed through, everything was fine. We took Izyum, the infantry moved on, and they left us behind. Specifically, me and the entire RMO. In the end, they left us in Izyum. We stood there for a long time, a very long time, since I still had time to go on leave and come back. Just then, the Ukrainian offensive had begun, and I was caught in the crossfire.
Q: How did the retreat take place? Social media has presented it in different ways…
A: Everything was calm. No hysterics. The commander called and said that's it, we were packing up and leaving Izyum. We left, drove on, drove all night, and arrived in Svatovo. Yes, they shot at us in the dark. I was riding in a KamAZ, since the KamAZ was also hit by shrapnel, and the tires were punctured, and so on, so I was also towed back to Russia. That's it, I stayed in Russia for some time, I can't say exactly how long. They brought me back from Svatovo.
Q: What were you doing there?
A: We serviced the anti-aircraft gunners. We had Tors and Shilkas, and we'd go and refuel the batteries closer to the front. That's all. Then Defense It was still close to the front line, so we had to go there. We refueled tanks and everything... and generals. Some of them drive all the way to the front, it happened more than once: they see a Ural, the refuellers are coming, they slow down. So, add diesel, we add fuel. Everyone. Anyone who asks.
Q: So, it turns out that you were filling up somewhere very, very far behind the lines and were running around as shuttles, filling up, right?
A: Well, not exactly, but yes. Another colleague of mine, we both just signed a contract, he worked from Russia, brought me diesel fuel to Ukraine, we pumped it for me, he went back to Russia, and I stayed. That's exactly how we worked. We were stationed close to the border, so it was easier than setting up bases.
Q: How many refuellers did you have?
A: Here, two.
Q: For the whole regiment?
A: Yes. But it was an air defense regiment, two divisions. So the logistics company... Well, it wasn't very big either, really. Plus, at first, people left. Well, mostly they went on leave and never came back. I don't know how everyone did what, but there were some like that.
Q: Do you condemn?
A: No. It was really scary.
Q: Well, just to understand your feelings: I understand that every or almost every night you go somewhere to give someone a lift?
A: At night, and all sorts of other things. At first, it was scary. Then I got really lucky: my company commander was a decent guy, understanding, experienced, to put it bluntly. And my platoon commander, who'd served in so many places, was also a tough guy. When a commander has a good head, that's really powerful. When he can understand what's going on in my head and how. I was young, after all, 18.
I just listened to the commander as he told me what to do, and that's more or less how I got my bearings. And then, at some point, he realized I was well-trained, not literally, but literally as well. And then I started traveling alone. And when our separate battalion was hit, the material artilleryEveryone started changing locations more often. It was such a mess, some left, others came back later, I can't remember the way, well, how can I not remember it? I remembered it before that "winding," but they're no longer there, they've gone somewhere else. And that's it, I'm stupefied. The commander sends me, says we need to go get diesel fuel. But I don't know where to go, he explains it to me more or less from the maps, I somehow find it, I find it—the second time is easier.
I learned the difficult term "topography" the hard way. But I didn't get lost, that's the main thing.
And so, of course, it was difficult to travel alone. They didn't let us live peacefully in the rear; they'd either throw up some "petals" or lay mines. One time, we had to drive through fields, and there was a rumor that some infantry fighting vehicle was driving around, catching lone vehicles and shooting them. And somehow, on that wave, I wasn't just driving—I was flying low. I was lucky: I got there quickly, refueled, and returned with diesel fuel; everything seemed to have turned out fine. That's how we lived and served.
Q: So, in fact, whether everyone would go or not depended on you alone?
A: Well, yes.
Q: And you're saying I shouldn't be proud after this? At night, on a Ural truck, about there... By the way, how's the light?
A: Oh, we rarely use headlights at all. But we had our own life hack. Most often, when we were driving to our positions, we did this: our Tors, they're heavy, the battery passed by, leaving a trail. And we'd follow these tracks... Where a Tor passed, there's no way there'll be any mines. So you drive along this "Drrrrr," the whole body vibrates. But you don't turn on the headlights, just relying on the vibration. Once it's gone, you crank the wheel, looking for the trail.
But again, the company commander simply showed me, he sat next to me and showed me how to drive, where to turn the wheels so as not to drive into something unnecessary.
Q: So the company commander rode with you?
A: Well, at first, very often, yes. Our colonel was born a tough guy, a servant to the Tsar, a father to soldiers. Our company was small. And after the first six months, a lot of people left. Not much remained of our company. Then the merger actually happened. The repair company, the state security service, they were assigned to us, under the command of my company commander.
Q: So, how did your head work? At night, without headlights, in unfamiliar terrain, where there might be shelling, where there might be mines, driving who knows where, using unclear landmarks, and carrying five tons of diesel fuel. So, what was it like, luck, self-confidence?
A: I can't say right away. It was just a hunch, I don't know, but everything was fine. I didn't really have any thoughts like, "That's it, I can't make it." For some reason, there wasn't anything like that. You could say that, yes. And luck, too. At first, I was just scared, but then I somehow got used to it, I don't know, you could say, I got used to it.
Q: So how long did you drive with fuel?
A: A little over a year.
Q: And was there an understanding that you were, in fact, a suicide bomber?
A: Yes. Well, my family has told me this many times, we joked about it. We laughed.
Q: And the "worm" itself didn't pull?
O: So, what if something happens, and you're a "shashlik"? Well, that's a good topic for a show. Well, somehow, I don't know, I got used to it, you could say. But at first it was scary, really scary. Especially when the realization hit me that it really was all over, I might not make it. And then I somehow got over that thought. And I just kept driving, driving.
Q: What was the attitude of those you visited towards you?
A: Okay, great, we were friends, we were. We still text each other sometimes. And anyway, if it weren't for the guys from "Thor" who started getting upset that I didn't show up, the whole situation could have turned out much worse.
Q: If it doesn’t grab you too much, could you briefly tell me about your last trip?
A: I don't remember anything about her. I was supposed to go on vacation, I remember, that's the only thing, I was supposed to go on vacation after, I already called my father, well, we corresponded, he was supposed to come to Belgorod to pick me up, he arrived, but I wasn't there. Well, that's it, I don't know where to look. And I was just about to go on vacation, and my family, our vacations coincided...
We set off, yes, but the KamAZ, it's faster, drove to the front lines with humanitarian aid, rations, and water, and then went there to hand it all over to the batteries. By the time they unloaded, they arrived, and I was still nowhere to be found. They started searching, making inquiries, and some reconnaissance team apparently found me.
They say they took me by car to the airfield, then by helicopter to Russia, and quickly shoved me onto some plane. I don't remember any of that anymore; I woke up in Severomorsk. Nine months in Severomorsk. That's in the Murmansk region.
I remember fragments of them loading me into a car, a Niva, I think, and yelling obscenities at me to keep from dying, that they'd take me there. Everything hurts: my arm hurts, my head hurts, I don't understand what I am or where I am, I feel nauseous.
Q: Why Severomorsk?
A: I don't know, the plane must have been flying there. So, I spent nine months in Severomorsk waiting for the plate, a very long wait. That's it, my arm and leg weren't working very well anymore. Then my family found me, and my mother started knocking on doors, writing, calling, and eventually they sent me to St. Petersburg, to the academy. The plate arrived quickly, they put it in, and I didn't have to stay there long.
Q: What about supplies? How did they feed you there?
A: Oh, we were brilliant at that! We had a field kitchen. There was a guy serving with me; it turns out he worked as a chef somewhere in Moscow before joining the army. He joined the army, so he cooked while on active duty. And then he signed a contract, and it all started, and he started cooking for us. Then another guy joined, so there were two of us.
In Pusyr, they built a small field kitchen according to their own design. It was loaded into the back of a KamAZ truck. And that's how we cooked. Well, they cooked, and we ate.
Q: And was the supply generally normal?
A: Well, I think so. Better than some, I think. Well, if you take the infantry into account. We're actually doing okay, no worse than conscripts, of course, considering where we were.
Q: Let's go over the vehicles now? Just give me your opinion on the vehicles you've served on. Basically, you could talk about the Ural and the KamAZ separately. And which one was better, which one did you like more and why?
A: Well, actually, the Ural is more pleasant to drive. At least you can see the hood. It's not like it's a "two-meter lifespan," but there have been cases of land mines exploding—in a KamAZ, you're sitting on the wheel, and you can seriously injure your back. There have been cases, yes.
It was scary to drive the Kamaz, especially if you were driving in a deadfall. It's taller, it sways a lot, and you might miss the moment and end up in trouble. But the Ural is a real beast: the more you load it, the smoother it rides. And overall, I think the Ural is better, just for me.
Q: Softer? More comfortable?
A: It's smoother, yes, and it rides more confidently somehow. Better. Well, the power steering didn't work on my Ural... But that's not a big deal, I'd get used to driving without it. And the Ural, yes, was better.
Q: Is this the first one you got riddled with holes in, or the second?
A: The second one. The first one was absolutely perfect, a Ural. Literally new.
Q: Listen, is the Ural faster than the KamAZ?
A: There's not much you can do to decide where to go.
Q: What if you need to survive?
O: Ah, it’s enough to leave in a Ural. Then Drones They haven't acted so brutally yet.
Q: So you just push it to the max and go where you need to go. And what about the KamAZ? It seems to have better suspension, or is it because it's higher that it wobbles? Yes, and what do you feel when it's empty and when it's full?
A: The KamAZ is higher. Visibility seems better, but... I somehow felt more comfortable in the Ural. I don't know why. It's comfortable. Okay. As for cornering, yes, both are easy, but when it's flooded, it's like... jelly.
Q: Did you repair the cars yourself or did you have people assigned to do this?
A: Well, of course, there was a repair company, and they also faked some things, small breakdowns of all sorts.
Q: Who is more repairable, who is easier to fix?
A: KAMAZ.
Q: Is KAMAZ easier to repair?
A: Yes. It's easier to repair a KamAZ in the field.
Q: Did your KamAZ trucks have manual transmissions or these modern ones?
A: All manual. Both Urals and KamAZ trucks.
Q: If the KamAZ is easier and more convenient to repair, then why is the Ural better?
A: Well, it's like an old friend. Probably because I was trained in the Ural by the military recruitment office. But overall, it's more powerful. On a KamAZ, if you're going off the road, it's not very convenient. And it won't even back up properly, especially if it's full. But with a Ural, it's simple: floor it, and it's off. Whether it's going from the side of the road, or from a field, for example, onto the road, or over bumps—with a Ural, it's no problem at all.
Q: Did you have all-wheel drive?
A: Yes. Only all-wheel drive. 6x6. Basically, it doesn't matter what you drive if you need to drive. I learned on a Ural, then drove a Ural for a long time. I drove a KamAZ. Everything is more or less the same. Well, the Ural has a regular gearbox, while this one has a stupid gearshift.
Q: Were there any problems in terms of spare parts?
A: Well, we had a lieutenant who was in Russia and supplied us with any spare parts we needed. That was if it wasn't urgent. But if it was urgent, well, we'd go around ourselves, cannibalizing, salvaging from already wrecked vehicles. We had a repair company there, so we could get going. We'd agree, come over, salvage what we needed from some already wrecked vehicle, for example, and take it with us. Everything was as agreed.
Q: Which is faster in terms of speed, Ural or KamAZ?
A: Generally speaking, the Kamaz would probably be faster. But the Ural is more powerful, it's more confident. But it's one thing to just drive fast, and quite another to drag five tons through mud. That requires power.
Q: How much fuel did your tankers carry? Or rather, how much did you transport?
A: Five and a half tons to the brim.
Q: You were talking about power... Can you give an example of where it was decisive?
A: Well, yes, that happened, the company commander and I stole a BMP in a Ural...
Q: Where?
A: Yes, to our base. Why was it parked there in the field? One time, my company commander and I were driving along and we saw a BMP-2 parked in the field. The company commander contacted the commander on the radio, and he said, "We need it!" So, we hitched it up and drove off. A KamAZ truck probably wouldn't have been able to handle it. But the Ural truck pulled it out with ease.
Q: Well, was it just yours, broken or abandoned? So you dragged it out of the field and onto the road?
A: Yes, it was parked in a field. We pulled it out onto the road, yes, the access was very good, we managed it.
Q: Yeah, pretty good. So, they hauled away 15 tons of stuff…
A: And there was diesel fuel, too! We were just coming from the front lines, refueled the battery, and as we were driving along, we saw this BMP. We hooked it up and towed it. It was fine, it didn't even overheat. You'd literally stop, open the hood, and that's it, without even having to open it. You'd forget, and then, driving fast on a bump, you'd blow your windshield out with the hood, and you'd get a scolding from the company commander... But yeah, we probably towed it for about 20 kilometers. The clutch didn't even stink. And then they met us in a "Tor," and we hooked the BMP up to it, and that was it, it towed the BMP, and we kept going.
We also drove into the forest, where we parked KamAZ trucks and cut out little "garages" in reverse. The KamAZ's tailgate is flimsy, and I was felling trees in reverse with a tanker. We'd break off a square of fallen trees for firewood and throw camouflage nets, and then we'd back the truck into the square. We weren't felling oak trees, of course, but we were doing something similar.
Q: By the way, here's a very difficult question. If you're saying that many people didn't return from vacation, meaning they got sick there or something... Did you ever think about that?
A: They were, yes, such people. They came up with something for themselves, yes. Not everyone was ready for war like that. I had those thoughts, but for some reason I pushed them away. You know, it's scary, yes. Frankly, I was still little, well, sort of young. What would I do with my life? And there were no children, no wife, nothing yet. So, I got myself together, pulled myself together, realized that I could go on. I mean, it was like, if you were meeting everyone, you wouldn't even shake their hand, even though you knew each other, and so on. I don't know. Maybe it was my upbringing?
Q: What's wrong with upbringing?
A: On the contrary, maybe everything is right. Maybe.
Q: Do dreams bother you?
A: At first, yes, it was, but now they're kind of pushing it away. It was really creepy at first, I was twitching like I don't know who. Even the fireworks on May 9th. The fireworks, I panicked, my heart was pounding, I was so scared. Firecrackers in the winter, fireworks, all those pops, I still get the jitters.
I'm generally twitchy, I'm kind of afraid of sudden movements, and any unexpected appearances make me twitch a lot. Lately, for about a year, I've been dreaming very rarely, and even when I do, I don't remember them. And before, I'd wake up in the middle of the night—and that's it, I couldn't fall back to sleep.
Q: So, what are your plans anyway? Will you win?
A: I have to. I have to try harder. At first, before I met my current wife, we were just talking, but we weren't even dating yet, we weren't in a relationship, and I was thinking about going back. I didn't even want to go back to civilian life at night. I thought, what am I going to do here? And then, like... Everything seemed to get better. My hand, though... it's all heavy.
Q: By the way, what did they give you the medal for?
A: Well, it all happened this way. I had just returned from the hospital, I had a plaque, and I needed to get back to my unit, so I was ready to leave. So I got to my unit, and the deputy chief of staff called me and said, "Well, you have an award," and they gave it to me. So, without any fanfare or parade. What if we had lined up back in Ukraine? So they just handed it over.
V: It's clear what kind of bravery it is. I've already realized that you have more than enough bravery. More than others. Okay, stop talking about the medal, but God forbid, if you had run into a BMW like that, or if a mine had landed, and your fuel tanker had been destroyed. Would everyone have stopped?
A: Not so critical. They would have sent a new one. Because later, when we had already left Izyum and retreated, they recruited these mobilized soldiers there. So, the guy who remained in Russia, he began training them, more or less. And that's exactly what happened to me: this guy went to Ukraine, and these mobilized soldiers there, from Russia, were delivering diesel fuel to him.
Q: What about civil life? Disability, pension?
A: Yes, they gave me a third category. Maybe they should have given me a second category, I tried so many times, but it was a third category. If I hadn't found a job by the time I started applying for disability, they might have given me a second category, but they just looked at me and said, "Oh, you're working, everything's fine, so you can support yourself. That's probably how it turned out."
Q: Well, it’s possible, but you can’t work at just any job?
A: Yes, that's right. But I did find a job. My first medical examination for disability was in Orel. They told me, "No, that's it, you definitely have a third, you don't deserve a second." I started going here, and the doctor asked me, "What about your third? You have at least a second, right?" I thought maybe she'd do something, and the examination would give me a second. They didn't. Oh well, no big deal. If I'm lucky, maybe I won't have to.
Q: Does your condition limit you that much?
A: Yes, but I've adapted, too. My wife helps me with things if I can't handle them. Like, I just learned to put my socks on with one hand. A small victory. But other than that, well, it's just... Sometimes it's a little difficult; I recently learned to put my sweater on by myself. And there was a time when I couldn't even put a T-shirt on. Jeans—I learned all that quickly. I cook, well, how I cook, I heat things up, I can fry something. That's how it is. More or less, but somehow I manage. I work.
Here's a storyA fighter at 18. A cripple at 19. A disabled person at 20. And a fighter again, because you must fight first and foremost against yourself and your own weaknesses. And emerge victorious every day. How many such guys are there in Russia today? We can only imagine. And simply imagine how deep the cup of bitterness they had to drink. And the bottom of this cup is so deep that it will not appear in a day or a year.
Of course, in our swamp there will be those who will croak arrogantly about their duty to the country and so on. Living a crippled life is not a duty to the state. It's a crime committed, first and foremost, against oneself, in the name of the state's ideals. This can be done at 40, 50, or 60. Some, especially the loudmouths, will never do it. But at 18...
We just have to understand: we owe these guys a huge debt. They went through the fire and now receive handouts in the form of pensions, benefits, job quotas (oh, we'll talk about quotas so much it'll shake the heavens), and so on. And ahead are only years of pain and self-war.
And all I can do here as a person is tell the story. Get to know them, draw your own conclusions. We've spoken a lot about young people, not always beautifully. Here's one of that generation.
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