Inspired by watching demonstrations in one brigade ...
In connection with the rapid development of technical progress and no less rapid (but very protracted) reformation of our valiant Armed Forces, computers began to appear in the military environment.
Computers were mainly used as typewriters.
And in more, officers began to appear - graduates of higher educational institutions (they are also biennial bichermen).
Graduates, too, were mainly used in the headquarters as “bring - serve”, “print something”, “don't get confused under your feet” and “what have you done, moron?”.
In one valiant special forces brigade, which fought either for the right to be called “special forces”, or for the right to be called a “brigade”, the above components (computers and graduates of higher educational institutions) were fully present.
But one day at the checkpoint, an individual completely out of line with the surrounding harsh army reality appeared.
If you look closely - it was a young man, by all indications - a male.
But the person on duty at the checkpoint did not particularly peer, and took him for the maiden, who had come to see some soldier and bestow his lover either with homemade cakes, or no less than a domestic venereal disease.
As the Deputy Chief of Staff of the brigade explained very intelligibly at the instruction of the daily dress:
“I’m fucked up, Petrenko! I’m not going to see if you’re already a double bass. God forbid, what will be on the checkpoints at the checkpoint
rot in the stoker! "
Therefore, Sergeant Petrenko, seeing an incomprehensible long-haired creature with earrings in his ears and jeans rolled up to his knees, without a second thought, barked:
- Well, blah, march from here! Visiting Day - Saturday!
The human being jumped up and down on the sergeant’s head with a coarse male bass.
The sergeant decided that the transvestites attacked the checkpoint and called for help in the person of his assistant and, covering the rear just in case (who knows, what if it was an incomprehensible being a lover of courageous sergeants?), Rushed into the attack.
The attack choked when an unknown person presented a bunch of documents, including an order for service in this unit.
They did not enlist the enemy spies into the lists of the unknown, rang the headquarters and very soon (about three hours later) still managed to reach the commander of the front part and report on a new officer who was eager to serve.
The youthful major (commander of the drill) sighed bitterly and asked to see the newcomer.
The procedure of registration did not take much time, and a civilian who suddenly felt himself a lieutenant was presented to the brigade commander.
Kombriu at the sight of a long-haired and with a subordinate's goggled eyes became terribly fun, and he, with jokes and jokes (praising and singing odes to the personnel officers), fell into a stupor and waved his hand woefully.
The lieutenant biennial was housed in an officer’s dormitory into a room with two "personnel" lieutenants, who had also recently arrived in the unit.
Graduates of the Ryazan and Novosibirsk schools favorably accepted the appearance of a new neighbor and began to lead the “jacket” to a “normal fight”.
The boy was clipped bald, rings and earrings taken out of his ears and even from all sorts of places there.
The process of hemming the spins was learned by them as “excellent with a plus,” although it caused some difficulties, especially when hemming a winter pea coat.
Boots with high berets brought him to sheer delight.
He complained that instead of “cool bandanas” with skulls, they wore a shapeless camouflage cap on their heads.
However, the boy turned out to be crappy, and, having looked at some of the secrets of his "personnel" friends - with the help of wire and iron, he brought the cap to a more or less tolerable look.
The presence of a military department at the institute that issued a lieutenant biennial testified that this comrade was a complete ignoramus in military affairs, especially in combat training.
The lieutenants explained to whom the military salute should be given, and to whom - and the remark should be made for not giving it.
During the briefing, the lieutenants, slightly wryly, made a slight change in the oral presentation of the "Forward Charter".
As a result of this change, the new lieutenant of the week two gave a military salute to his roommates, going over to a drill and loudly welcoming friends.
Then, of course, he wiped himself off and ceased to amaze the people around him with shouts like "Zdra Zhela..t., lieutenant of Special forces".
Accordingly, the lieutenants trained their ward in putting in for the position, for lifting, for receiving the first salary and much more.
As a result, the newcomer became his board a month later, stopped asking for hamburgers and colas in the chip, and his body, which he had become accustomed to drinking beer during his student life, switched to stronger drinks.
Now, the young lieutenant implacably dragged along parts, calmly dumped the assigned tasks, very sensibly explained the reason for the failures and roared loudly at the servicemen on the call of "Quddaaa abezyan?"
The lieutenant completed the training course, "boldly and courageously" made a jump from a helicopter, after landing he received a spare tire on his ass, received permission from his neighbors to wear a vest and a beret.
On shooting, he enthusiastically fired at targets, and after the completion of the campaign, loudly declared: "Halvah - sucks!". (“Half-Life” - computer shooter)
All of the young lieutenant returned to normal, he had only some harmful habits such as cravings for the Internet and network toys, which, however, did not interfere with service.
Just a little more - and he would become an ordinary military man.
However, by chance, parading through the headquarters with a bunch of some documents, he came across the commander.
The lieutenant knew that when meeting with the authorities it was best to make a dull face and run away as soon as possible.
He managed to perform only procedures with the face.
Kombrig saw the "jacket" squinted, and wanted for something to "fall in love" with the poor fellow.
However, for some reason he changed his mind.
- Hey, lieutenant! You're kind of friends with computers?
“No, sir, colonel!” I am friends with the lieutenants from the first battalion.
“You what, idiot?”
- Yes sir! Allow me to go?
Kombrig was furious and briefly explained to the lieutenant what he wanted from him.
Everything was not so scary.
In the brigade, by some miracle, a batch of computers arrived.
And recently, at the Military Council in the District Headquarters, the Commander spoke favorably of the radio engineering brigade, in which they not only played Saper on computers and considered official salaries, but also engaged in some extremely useful activity.
At first, the spetsnaz brigade commander did not come to anything.
Seeing the packaging of computers, I got the idea:
- "Wow! Here's a new computer (computer) will be delighted!"
And now, having seen the lieutenant-jacket, the brigade commander overshadowed himself with the idea that computers could not only be distributed to the offices of the heads of services and departments, but could come up with something worthwhile.
Moreover, in a few months “distinguished guests” were expected for professional holidays.
The lieutenant did not understand at first what they were trying to explain.
Then I realized that.
He did not think for a long time and blurted out the first thing that came to mind:
- And let me make you a network, Comrade Colonel!
- Fuck me your network? I love the hunt ... - said the commander.
The lieutenant within twenty minutes explained about the computer network and the advantages that the brigade headquarters and all kinds of services can get.
The colonel wrinkled his forehead and gradually realized that it would be possible to throw documents in electronic form from computer to computer, edit checking, etc., and so on.
And a lot more that can be done ...
The commander liked the idea and, descending to his office, immediately summoned to himself: the chief of staff, the chief of communications, the chief of the defense service of everyone, including state secrets, the special counterintelligence officer, the chief of staff and the head of the canteen.
The head of the canteen arrived first and, surprisingly, hatched out at the brigade commander.
- What are you, ensign? the brigade commander asked.
“I don't know, comrade colonel,” the bewildered warrant officer replied.
- Yes, you never know a damn thing - the colonel poured for pro forma.
Then, realizing that the head of the canteen will be of little use for creating a computer network - he sent it back home.
The ensign offended by the tactless behavior of the commander.
He dragged himself into his farm, made a mistake with disgust, and diluted the apple juice intended for the dinner tables of the servicemen with the same apple juice (instead of plain water).
At the meeting at the brigade commander, not a few were broken.
The guardians of secrets began to defend state interests with their breasts, however, under the pressure of commanding power, they broke down and began to look for ways to combat the still undeclared “spy hackers”.
The head of the financial unit meekly hinted that the kombriga said that when one was throwing money on “incomprehensible networks”, one could not get a bonus for saving by the end of the year.
However, the brigade bat rested.
They called the lieutenant-jacket and puzzled by tomorrow to make a list of the necessary things to create a network.
The head of communication, an old lieutenant colonel, calmly dozing in the corner, woke up and asked to go to the toilet.
The chief of staff put forward a very sound idea, which proved that the Frunze Academy did not give a blue diploma for nothing.
NSh proposed the creation of a freelance automation department.
To appoint one of the assistants to the head of communications, the lieutenant biennial, simply to appoint the head of the department as an employee of the automated control system (automated control systems), and for the heap to assign any secret secretary there, and give a couple of reconnaissance telecom operators who will be chosen lieutenant.
On that and decided.
“Vigilant” after the meeting rushed to the phones to report on “new channels” of leakage.
The financier, in deep economic thoughtfulness, closed in his "euro-renovated" office.
The next morning, after building the brigade commander, he decided to test the lieutenant for professional ability and handed him his cell phone.
Within a couple of minutes, the biennial figured out the "miracle of Chinese mobile telephony": I set up WAP and GPRS, showed how the IR port turns on and what it is for.
He also explained to Kombriga that Bluetooth is not a curse, but a very useful thing in the phone.
The colonel was pleased and gave the go-ahead.
The work of the newly baked department has begun.
First, the lieutenant went through the communication units and found a couple of suitable communication people in terms of intelligence and knowledge.
I had to make some war here, because the fighters, who were more or less computer-savvy, were employed as headquarters employees, clerks, and other "useful people."
However, with the help of the brigade commander, all personnel issues were quickly resolved.
Measurements, inspections and inspections were carried out, and the estimate was compiled.
Money was required only for cables, connectors, all sorts of switches and hubs, as well as other relatively inexpensive crap.
The application has been compiled and filed.
Nachfin, reluctantly, wrote out awards to the workers of the newly created department and several other "flying" officers.
The brigade commander approved.
The lucky ones, who got into the list of “winners” with sour faces, lined up at the cash register, signed the statements and cursed their teeth ...
After a week of hard work, all network officials began to function.
The "vigilant" called their superiors, the more vigilant superiors were silent.
The head of the automation department, without making a damn and having learned that he was “head” literally the day before the network launch, he actively joined the work: first he broke firewood, then calmed down and as a result received thanks.
And nothing broke !!!
The network cable was neatly laid in plastic boxes along the walls and did not interfere with anyone, the connectors (computer connectors) were well compressed, and the HUBs and SWITCHs (switches) mysteriously winked with green lights.
In a separate room, reclaimed from the commandant of the headquarters, behind an iron door and barred windows they organized a server room (central computer post), where a lieutenant sat with his fighters.
They tried to keep the communications assistant's assistant away from computers.
The fighters, immediately recruited by the “vigilant” first couple of weeks, now and then snooping around all the offices where computers were installed, showed, told, explained, eliminated.
Gradually, everyone got used to it, got used to it and no longer imagined how they used to live without these new information technologies.
The brigade commander appreciated the work of the "automatists" and his idea and therefore sometimes spoke at the meeting with phrases like:
- "So! And duffers share their folders (allow access) for tomorrow morning ..."
Strangely enough, with the advent of the computer network, the staff of the headquarters became more diligent in the workplace, ceased to “disappear” on all kinds of incomprehensible reasons.
Sometimes the commander went around workplaces and was surprised to find those officials who, before the appearance of a “grid” in the headquarters, were difficult to find on the spot.
The officers and ensigns enthusiastically stared at the monitor moved, the mouse pressed the buttons.
At the sight of a brigade commander, they clicked buttons on the keyboard and, while cheerfully introducing themselves, reported that they were performing such a document and were about to present it.
Kombrig smirked and threw:
- "Skip the grid in my folder" - then impressively deleted.
In fact, everything was much easier.
The lieutenant biennial planted the entire staff of the headquarters on “Counter-Strike” (computer shooter).
Network battles unfolded in the morning and lasted forever.
The officers on the builds whispered: “How did I“ carry ”you (kill)? From mashingan (machine gun) right in the window?"
The Chief of Staff roared upon the whisperers and called everyone to silence.
The Colonel himself chuckled softly.
He, as it seemed to him, often secretly participated in online games in the team of terrorists under the call sign "Ivan Dulin" and became quite skilled in exhibiting land mines.
Only he sometimes wondered why the automaton lieutenant, seeing the NSH, shouted at someone aside:
- "From it Che, Mikhalych! No wonder I had a dream about a chamomile field and red tricels yesterday I had a dream ...".
For a lieutenant sitting all day in the server room, the computer and its owner were calculated using the iP-address like two fingers on the parade ground.
Only the deputy commander for educational work hated the computer network.
There were reasons for this.
When the educator officer had a computer, he decided to master all the wisdom himself and began to randomly climb the network folders and open everything.
As a result of convulsive clicks of the mouse and indiscriminate pushing of the deputy’s buttons, the kombrig opened the network folder open for public access and came across an album with photos from some brigade celebration.
Opening the photo, where the entire heroic leadership team was captured, he managed to open the photo in a graphic editor and, finding electronic pencils and brushes on the toolbar, smiled wickedly.
As a result of the arts of the newly-minted computer designer, monkish glasses and Negro hairstyle “a la the seventies” appeared at the brigade, wonderful pink mustaches and beard drew around the brigade’s wife, and the rest had bruises, cowboy hats and other “highly artistic” nonsense.
The teacher made a good laugh, and when closing the photo he pressed without thinking about the “YES” button that jumped out in the window with the question “Save changes?”
Kombrig was terribly surprised.
If sometimes incomprehensible windows with inscriptions like "net send 192.168 ..... popped out of the old fart," then the lieutenant-automator easily explained this to the presence of a virus on the computer, which he immediately eliminated.
But the photo-shocked photo was clearly the work of human hands.
Only the deputy of the educational level remained unpainted, therefore it was a matter of three seconds to calculate the insolent one.
The educational genius had a pale appearance, but stood firm on the fact that he was not in the business, but computers were evil, and the computer lieutenant had to be driven from the Armed Forces. However, if the lieutenant had been kicked out, he would have been just glad.
On the occasion of the professional holiday and the arrival of distinguished guests, they decided to arrange a show.
As usual, they decided to show the spetsnaz “window-dressing” in hand-to-hand combat and, as a culmination, a demonstration on the release of some “strategic” object captured by a conditional opponent.
All the officers who had experience in such events were immediately mobilized and confused.
Soldiers on conscription were involved in hand-to-hand combat: despite the transition to a contract army, recruits were still sent to the brigade.
At the time of the holiday, an "Open Door Day" was announced, and therefore the arrival of all kinds of committees of "Birthless Mothers" was expected.
For the demonstration of the raid, they selected the most experienced and handsome contract soldiers, honors men of combat and public-state training, veterans of combat operations in the heart of Ichkeria.
This time, window dressing promised to be enchanting.
For the entertainment of the raid, we decided to add a little air assault subjects. The officers of the airborne service stretched the cable slides from the roof of the training building, which passed over the parade ground and ended at the stadium.
According to the plan, part of the special forces should depict the landing by parachute method and enter the battle from the sky, firing in all directions and knocking down when landing the enemy. First, the stocks tested on the weight and size model of a man "Ivan Ivanitch", listed on the airborne service lists.
Effigy stuck in the PST (parachute system simulator) and pushed off the roof.
"Ivanovich", waving his arms, swept over the parade ground and crashed down in the middle of the stadium.
Something pulled up, corrected, made by the end of the cable slide descent more gentle at the end with a slight rise.
Since the scarecrow was one for the whole brigade, and it was a pity for him, an ensign-instructor was launched to re-check: there were a lot more of them.
The ensign deftly landed.
Tests were carried out successfully and began to run up the hill for training fighters. Kontraktniki fun fired from the machine guns with shouts "Huyasseee" flew over the place to build and the melee training at the bottom, bringing the Deputy Chief of Staff for Security of the Military Service and Troops Service to white heat.
The lieutenant automator received a special task.
The brigade commander decided to comment all the performances himself.
Microphone or loudspeakers are obsolete.
The colonel wanted to move freely on the parade ground, to give commands and that his voice thundered from everywhere.
Biennial said: "Easy, Comrade Colonel!".
Through his civil comrades, the lieutenant took out two telephone "bluetooth" headsets of concealed carrying.
Behind the podium they installed a laptop with the included "blue-port", connected a powerful subwoofer, speakers with an "awesome number of watts" distributed in the corners of the parade.
Exactly the same system installed in the stadium.
Earned, and how!
A voice rushed from all sides, flew to the stadium and fell from somewhere above.
A couple of days before the show, the brigade commander ordered a dress rehearsal for his immediate deputy in order to identify inconsistencies and shortcomings that can be eliminated on the spot.
In the evening, he blinked away the prepogany autumn rain.
And in the morning it froze, the parade ground was covered with a thin crust of ice and gleamed merrily in the rays of a dim sun, occasionally peeking out from behind clouds.
The lieutenant and his fighters quickly set up the sound system and ran to the office to give the headset and explain the procedure for use.
Divisions of the brigade began to slowly roll out on the parade ground.
Special Forces personnel involved in the demonstrative raid disguised an imitation at the stadium and infuriated the head of physical training and sports.
The hand-to-hand men painted each other's faces in camouflage colors and straightened their knee pads and other hidden protective things under their pants.
From the doors of the headquarters, a lean deputy commander jumped out in vigorous marching steps and flooded to the construction site.
The personnel of the units froze in mute delight.
Zamcombrig entered the parade ground, cheerfully looked at the whole army and barked:
- "Brrrigada Equalone!"
After the loud team, the deputy stumbled, slipped and, crashing backwards, deftly rolled out into the middle of the parade.
Apparently, the officer accidentally pressed the “transfer” button on his headset and therefore he heard over the whole parade ground
- "Blyayayayayayayayayu on dick me such curling?".
Rolling out into the middle, he got on all fours, then gently unbending, he waved to the Chief of Staff and disappeared behind the podium, incidentally obmathev letyeh sitting behind the podium and giving him the headset.
It should be noted that on this day in the garrison there were several cases of injuries to personnel due to icy conditions.
In the nearby motorized rifle regiment a certain old captain even broke his leg, as a result of which an investigation was carried out.
The captain was reprimanded, and the commander of the motorized rifle regiment issued an order to each soldier to have with him a bag of sand for sprinkling icy tracks.
By this, the regiment commander proved that after all in the same Frunze Academy "gold medals" are in vain.
But back to our heroes.
The Chief of Staff went cautiously to the middle and gave the command:
- "The first and second battalion, in five minutes on the parade ground with the harvesting equipment!
At twelve zero-zero construction in the same composition! "
The people walked cheerfully to the barracks singing various drill songs.
Immediately it turned out a few flaws.
Firstly, a specially trained person should be sitting on a sound installation and work as a sound engineer, not broadcasting all kinds of interjections and suddenly erupting expressions of delight.
Naturally, this honorary position went to the biennial.
There were a couple of minor flaws.
After cleaning the territory continued.
It turned out that everything is fine even perfectly, but the brigade commander, who was present at the second review, decided that for the entourage and solemnity it would be nice to use the orchestra.
Not bad, but the orchestra relied in the brigade only in case of war.
There were pipes and drums in the club, but no one could play them.
Here the commander again showed resourcefulness:
- And why the hell us computer geeks? Come on lieutenant, figure something out!
- Comrade Colonel! I can "Fifty Senta" on the piano - a flatten lieutenant replied.
Kombrig sang thoughtfully under his breath:
- "Tatat ta ta ta ta tat", then came to his senses:
- Blah, lieutenant! You give me another Tupac here! We need military marches!
Immediately vstroval deputy for educational:
- Comrade Colonel! It is necessary to drive him! Forever he includes Tupac! How much can you tolerate this insolence?
The deputy was reassured, and the lieutenant promised to rummage around in the records in the club or search on the Internet.
By the evening there were some quite decent records.
The lieutenant transferred them to digital format, corrected them, podmixed the sound, and vigorous marches rang out over the brigade, drums crashed.
They didn’t stop at the achieved, and younger ensigns were selected from the material support company: to play the role of military musicians.
The conductor was appointed the most stately and mustached ensign from the repair company, baffling to make the conductor's baton.
At the next rehearsal warrant officers dressed up in full dress.
The pipes were polished and the drums repaired.
The ensign-conductor had the most natural rod.
Where the rod came from - this mystery was covered with darkness.
However, the head of the orchestra was reprimanded for all in the same nearby motorized infantry regiment for appearing drunk and losing public property.
As the orchestra sounded !!!
Ensign cheerfully waved his wand, amateur musicians blew his cheeks, the drummers twisted the sticks in their hands.
Everything was clearly rehearsed in time and from the side looked just great.
On the day of the celebration, the lieutenant-machine was monstrously uncomfortable.
No, he was absolutely not worried: just roommates brought some girls and brought several bottles of vodka.
However, some experience of the service already had a two-year-old, suffering terribly from a hangover and breathing to the side - he had been at work in the morning and had launched a stormy activity.
The broadcast system was adjusted and tested.
The lieutenant put the second headset on himself, and fastened the first copy to the brigade commander.
The brigade commander on the "amber" emitted by the lieutenant did not pay any attention, because he himself was in the same condition (the distinguished guests arrived yesterday and “rushed into battle” from the train).
All the speeches that the commander, the lieutenant should give, dropped the combi-gun on the PDA, drove the Talker program into the handheld and set up the computer for a slow speech.
The commander should have simply repeated loudly and with feeling that the computer was slowly whispering to him through the earpiece.
No papers !!!
Hand-to-hand men dressed in brand new camouflage unloadings corrected camouflage bandanas, pulled up gloves without fingers and were terribly nervous.
The chief of physical training, who led the first part of the performance, ran from one fighter to another and tried to calm everyone down with paternal kicks.
The scouts involved in the demonstration plaque ended the stadium's equipment for a performance.
The head of the engineering service laid imitation charges and, together with the fighters, pulled wires.
"Chip" was supposed to be an imitation of the bursting of bullets on the ground.
At a distance of thirty centimeters from each other, in various directions, they dug a bunch of electric detonators and ran wires from them to the imitation control panel.
There were several plates on the console with nails hammered into them, and to which a line of detonators was undermined.
For the circuit used a metal bar with a wire from the battery terminals.
It was necessary to hold a bar through the nails - as the chain was successively closed, the detonators were torn, throwing out the fountains of the earth and created a complete illusion of the bullets breaking.
Special Forces, portraying the enemy, wore bullet-proof vests under the form, which were molded into bags of tomato juice and all kinds of tripe.
Electrical detonators with a weakened charge were also inserted into the bags, and the closing wires were placed on the fingers.
To close them was enough to link the fingers.
Security requirements were godlessly violated, but the beauty and authenticity of the raid required that.
Moreover, all charges were carefully verified and the brigadier chief of the engineering service and the head of the armament service.
And all the best specialists were involved in this case.
An ambulance with doctors was on duty near the stadium just in case of emergency.
Kombrig, who concealed a lot of special effects, still obliged all participants to wear protective glasses during the showy battle.
They did not argue: safety first.
And instead of points the local paintball club leased wonderful plastic masks.
Riding engineering became steel disposable grenade launchers.
The engineer stuffed condoms inflated with lighter gas into used tubes.
Inside they placed a small petard, stuck on the side of the battery and small toggle switches.
When the toggle switch was pressed, the circuit closed, a sheaf of fire flew out from the back of the grenade launcher, while an operator on the imitation console was undermining the charge in the enemy's scarecrow on the guard tower.
The effigy was torn in half and all kinds of entrails flew out of it (taken out the day before in the meat workshop of the canteen) mixed with blood (red ink and tomato juice).
The “trick” was that a real fighter stood on the tower before the start of active fire contact and the landing of the paratroopers.
When the war began, the soldier squatted, and a smoke charge exploded side by side and the tower shrouded in yellow smoke for several seconds.
At this time, a plausible scarecrow with a mock-up of a machine gun in his hands was exposed.
The scout connected the wires and jumped inside the tower and hid in a previously dug closed slit ...
Gradually, all began to cover prelaunch jitters.
The officers of the airborne service once again checked their slide and suspension systems of simulators.
Instructed by "landing".
The biennial lieutenant received from his comrades a jar of the finest cold beer, and, hiding behind the podium, greedily sipped life-giving moisture.
From the checkpoint, crowds of guests and curious reached for the parade.
The burly aunt-members of the komitetchits frowned in disgust, looking around the simple-minded life of the special forces.
Fathers and brothers of fighters happily looked at the taut build.
The girls squealed, and the bailiff on tiptoes looked out for their guys.
Clicking cameras, hung over the entire brigade excited hubbub.
Impatient excitement reigned.
From the checkpoint there was a heart-rending cry:
- "Eduuuuut !!!"
Barriers shot up, gates creaked.
Kombrig impatiently roared and discouraging a clear drill step rushed to the two black “Volga”, in which distinguished guests arrived.
The brigade stood at attention.
Even civilians died down.
The lieutenant behind the podium choked on beer and poured the "Talk" button on the headset.
Above the whole brigade a report from the brigade commander clearly thundered loudly and solemnly.
Civilians opened their mouths.
This is acoustics !!! Here is a voice !!!
Distinguished guests, despite the hangover syndrome, nodded their heads approvingly and, putting their hands to the astrakhan caps, moved to the middle of the parade ground.
The conductor signaled with a rod: "Attention !!!"
A small ensign with a huge drum like a real orchestra student deftly twirled a wooden mallet between his fingers, getting ready to insert into a tightly stretched side.
Screwed up ...
The mallet slipped out of inept fingers, and, having flown away into the crowd, she banged a portly madam "komittchitsu" into a tall mink hat.
- Is a mockery! I will write to the newspapers !!! - Madame yelled.
- Damn it! Drumming sensation! - commented from the podium to the entire parade-ground lieutenant. Under the influence of the beer spilled on him, his headset closed and she gave out to the whole parade ground the experiences of an impressionable lieutenant biennial (a frequent visitor of the site Udaff.COM).
"Distinguished guests", chasing a step, entered the asphalt parade ground.
Kombrig has linked teeth.
- “Machi, mustache” - croaked the lieutenant and cut in the march.
Musicians began to depict the playing of instruments.
The ensign-conductor deftly waved his baton and twisted intricate figures with his free hand: a mixture of South Shaolin Kung Fu and indecent gestures.
The music sounded clearly loud from all sides.
Those spectators and the military smoothed out.
Even the drummer who thrashed the side of the drum with his palm didn’t spoil the impression.
A wave of the rod - and the music stopped.
“Hello, comrade scouts !!!” the highest “guest” barked briskly.
- Zdra zhla..tschsch ... !!! - barked scouts.
- Congratulations.... !!!
- URAAAAAAAAAAAA - rang out rolling and many-voiced.
Then the "high guests" climbed onto the podium.
Not finding the microphone, they squinted at the brigade commander and began to read speeches.
And after the word took the commander.
That was the word !!! That was the voice !!
Even the authorities punched to the bone.
The generals looked at the colonel respectfully and did not understand what the secret was.
Kombrig, quietly sticking an earpiece in his ear and not looking into any papers — he bristly poured in figures and facts, not forgetting anything, not confusing or stammering.
That was a performance !!!
“And I can list all the servicemen of our brigade who, through their tireless work and impeccable service, brought our unit to the front lines ...” “Lucy, blah ... hang up and do not call: I’m on the parade ground” - the commander’s voice for a few seconds verse, lieutenant for podium reacted on time.
Then he re-rolled over the hushed brigade.
After the performance, a solemn march took place.
And finally, demonstrations.
Before the speeches, the brigade commander again talked for a few minutes about how to serve in the special forces safely, about measures taken to protect and prevent, preserve life and health, and even introduced the officer responsible for the very security.
Cheerful and rhythmic music thundered over the parade ground: "The Mortal Combat begins."
There was a thunderous voice.
The melee fighters ran in straight rows onto the asphalt.
Some mothers and girls recognized their sons and lovers, furtively wiped away tears with handkerchiefs, squealed joyfully, and the men opened their mouths.
Special Forces officers began to twist various sets of exercises with weapons, cheering themselves with friendly and harmonious shouts.
Kombrig cautiously recalled the safety and security service of military service aside and set the task: quietly inspect the territory and areas of the submissions, on the subject of "little-or-what."
ZNSH quickly ran around the stadium, squeezed through the crowd and climbed onto the roof of the building where the cable stocks were installed.
The paratroopers and fighters who were preparing to parachute, tried to chase him away.
However, it was not there.
SNS yelled at everyone and personally began to check the suspension systems and cables, making even more nervousness.
At this time mothers who surrounded the parade-ground were ready to collapse in a swoon.
Despite all the assurances of the brigade commander who could have been believed that their sons were crashing down with terrible force on the asphalt, they received blows to various parts of the body with their hands and feet, and they threshed themselves where they didn’t fall, with brutal faces and shouts broke their necks conditional opponents, and it was obvious that they were madly in love with this occupation.
The girls no longer squealed, but only quietly sighed.
The ladies from the "Committee of someone's mothers there" filmed on cameras and cameras.
Kombriga's voice thundered throughout the parade ground, overlapping the music:
- And now our scouts are demonstrating hand-to-hand combat “one against three” !!!
From the roof of the academic building there was a hysterical cry:
- VeDeSnikii! Ugly! Kozlyyy! I remember you mlayayayayayaya ..........
On the tense ropes, clinging tightly to the harness and dangling their legs, the ZNSH briskly flew.
As they say, checked out.
Despite the protests of the officers of the airborne service, the deputy chief of staff pulled out the reconnaissance system from the harness and began to jump on it, pressing his legs, thus checking the strength of the cables and straps.
He jumped around, did not keep his balance, and the officers of the service did not even have time to blink an eye, as the ZNSH was already flying over the parade ground, dirty to say.
Civilians and generals gasped.
Lieutenant biennial, sitting at the podium commented:
- Fuck! ZNSha - Batman! Handsome, fucking ...
Kombrig did not lose his head:
- His skill shows the best athlete, parachutist brigade, he's deputy chief of staff for security service !!!
Civilians clapped loudly.
ZNSh landed at the far end of the stadium and, limping, began to search for the hat which was lost during the landing, while bowing to the public.
A nurse had flown to him.
Two scouts in white coats jumped out of it and shoved the ZNS protester inside.
- Military doctors show their mastery !!! - announced the brigade commander.
At this performance melee ended.
- - And now I will ask everyone to the stadium, now you will see a demonstration performance by a special-purpose group in the raid !!!!!
The crowd, amicably together, rushed to the stadium. Over the stadium there was some kind of sad music, singing either Tim Matsuraev, or Makka Sugaipova. The scouts portraying either militants or military personnel of some Wahhabi state they did not behave accordingly. Scaled hookah, danced warlike dances, shaking their weapons. They brought a prisoner who they began to torture with pleasure. The prisoner did not say anything and loudly to the whole stadium fire into all the crusts of the hooligans who had captured him.
Civilians cheering support brave fighter. Several of the men who had fallen off were trying to get out and help, or try, or release the fighter. Finally, the militants got tired of torturing the intractable intelligence officer, and they shot him dead, without letting the song "Eaglet" sing. When fired from the chest and back, the scout splashed a fountain of bright red splashes. The crowd froze in shock, preparing to scream. Kombriga shuddered. The generals in fright goggled.
And here the vigorous music rattled, very clearly the noise of helicopter screws rang out above our heads. Many, including the generals, lifted their heads. Special Forces flew with mad firing on the stocks. We unhooked in the air, jumped off to the ground and, rolling, continued firing at the enemy. Blood has become even more. The crowd could not say anything, many became ill. The spetsnaz troops descending from the sky began a maneuver of withdrawal, enticing militants to an ambush subgroup that lay down in advance and disguised by a camouflage net. And here is the enemy in the zone of destruction of fire, a mad machine-gun fire. The whole field of the stadium was crossed by earthen fountains.
- Blyayah fighting wet! - shouted someone from the crowd.
The first generals fell to the ground.
- Calm down, - the brigade commander roared, - calm down, only idle ones are used ...
And the special forces who entered the rage went on the offensive. Smoke clouds enveloped the tower. Scout portrayed sentry dived down. The grenade thrower raised the "Flies" tube to his shoulder.
BBBBBAHHHHH !!!! With a deafening crash a jet of gas escaped (from a grenade launcher !!).
BBBBBBAAAHH !!! The mannequin scattered in half, splashing around with all kinds of insides and red mascara.
- АААААААА, - the crowd screamed in horror ..
“Damn it, oh .... ate !!, you, what are you doing here,” shouted the generals, wiping bloody splashes from their overcoats.
After showing off many of the faint-hearted ladies had to be brought to life. The generals were brought to life already in the sauna. Visitors in horror left the location of the brigade.
The lieutenant biennial happily smiled and rather rumbled for the whole part, frightened by the hastily leaving the territory of the ladies "komvetchits"
Yeah-oh blah spetsnaz is not a bunch of homosexual !!!!