Legends of Kumbysh, part xnumx. Ring races
The continuation of the memories of my friend Oleg Bolotnikov about his service in the 10 OA air defense missile defense system:
History the second.
"Ring races"
"The priest had a dog,
He loved her ... "
Poem, repeating endlessly
It took us somehow to deliver new “products” to Kumbysh Island (this is how it was called rocket). For us, driving a car from one island to the mainland or back was often fraught with difficulties. Sending the column is already a more serious event, and with such a load it is almost a combat operation.
All the complexity was connected with several factors: a lousy road, a disgusting road, a lack of a road and, oddly enough, with a good road.
Well, the first three of these are obstacles, albeit with difficulty, but surmountable, but on the good road we could have been in big trouble. Drivers, as elsewhere, we had different - experienced and, more often, not very. Basically, they showed their chauffeur talent on the island, where for the TZM (transport-loading vehicle), as you know, there are not too many options for choosing routes - from the garage to the position, along the roundabout (not to be confused with the Moscow rings), from the shelter - to the trench, well, there, fill, wash, and back - in the stall.
No, well, of course, and for fishing, and for hunting prey, too, as without it, but all this is in the forest, but along the bank. In winter, their travel area expanded. When the Northern Dvina and the sea around the island finally became solid, our ice track began to operate. About her somehow another time.
But all our road adventures on this route are nothing compared to what our drivers — DOSAAF and vocational technical school graduates who prepared rural machine operators — could expect on a good road! And on a good road, they were waited: Chinese road signs, strict traffic lights, unknown road markings and, oh, horror! - other cars and pedestrians ....
That's an amazing thing. In the division, such a driver is an eagle. He drives a TZM-ku with a “product” on a trailer (more often, all the same - with a training one), it will override all the standards, it will stand up on the walkway in front of him, like a dead man, not a millimeter wrong.
He will move the “dvigun”, and disassemble the wheel, eliminate the malfunction in the cold with his bare hands, and on the road (good, in the village) it will be like a shaft of fire.
He grabs his eyes in the steering wheel, as if for his mother, eyes, as a member of the circle “I want to know everything”, turn white, numb - shoo out of the way who are not tired of living!
Not all polls were like that, but they came across. What to do, experience - it is gainful.
So, gathered for new missiles. It is necessary to drag three, it means it is necessary to go five cars.
Why? And it is necessary to have a head and closing "cover" machine.
They collected everything that was on the island - three from the division, and two from the technical battery. Those who are in the know, I suppose, immediately bent their fingers and asked: "How many of them did you have?" Yes, there were so many. In the event of “readiness”, there are still two “sacred cows” that those “specials” must carry.
I know that you can't touch these cars.
So we have a lot, which is impossible. But if the command is not directly to say that at the moment you have to break something in order to fulfill his order, then it seems like there is no violation.
You can't transport people to TZM (TZM on the 75 complex - an ordinary truck tractor), but we carry. For example, it is ordered to present (!) So many people for such a time for ... yes, it doesn't matter for what. And what are their 70 km to carry? And even on a stick astride. Imagine!
And if not to say that we 15 people on the ice on such a tractor drove ("presented"!), It means that there was no violation. Many bosses will know - you will grow old in lieutenants!
The column left the island early, about five o'clock. They were briskly home to the mainland - it was in the second half of March and, surprisingly, the warm days did their work, melted the snow lying on top. Everything was flooded with melt water, but it is not terrible, worse when the water disappears - a sure sign that the ice is already loose, with polynyas.
Oh, how good was the column! Water - to the bumper, waves - to the sides, breakers, splashes.
Not a column of cars, but a squadron of some kind! Our eternal damnation - deep snow, orestrug - is no longer in sight, but God saved from ravines. We got to the “experienced coast”.
The city is still miles 20 on the highway. The people look at them with respect - our procession looked not only ominous, it looked scary. From footboards, wings, frames, from rocket trailers (pe-erok, in our opinion) - icicles hang down to the ground, ice is on radiators, on doors. Picture - that still!
We walked without haste, giving the pilots time to get stuck on the highway, to look at the traffic situation.
Conversely, do not go empty.
We arrived at the bridge, there was a stationary post of the GAI-VAI, but “our”, fortunately, was not there. And then all these icicles would have to warm up with their own asses at the car park!
From the left bank to Arkhangelsk, then there was only one bridge - at the same time railway and road. One row of cars - there, one - back.
The cars going to the city went down the road that was part of Smolny Buyan street (interesting name, right?), Went to Leningradsky Avenue, and only there - to whom - to the left, to whom - to the right.
Our column - to the right, in the direction of the location of the control of the regiment and the technical division.
But when the column goes back, it will have to stretch along the local "Leningradka", a little further than this place (that is, the exit from the bridge) to the intersection, turn left, bending around the old quarter. Then turn left again into the alley and rest again in Smolny Buyan. There, at the T-junction, turn right onto the bridge.
And no one goes to the left here, since this is the exit from the bridge to the same Leningradsky Avenue.
Try to remember this place.
In the course of the story we will come back here. And more than once!
Having received "products" in the technical division, they partially bumped the icicles, refueled, had lunch and - back on the road.
To go far, the load is not the most inoffensive. The missiles, although without the warhead, are not fueled, but the starting engines at our G20s (one of the modifications of the 75 complex missiles) are always with them.
Therefore, the column crawls neatly. There were no traffic jams in those days, but the roads were not empty.
Drivers decently soaked, and the older cars, too, was not to admire the scenery.
While the column is crawling along Leningradsky Prospect, waddling over potholes, spilling liquid mud and dropping its icicles, it’s time to get to know some of the characters.
The commander of the “starters”, Seryoga, drove to the head-elder of the car;
These machines, we remember, go without a “pe-erok”.
And in the middle of the column, in the third from the head TZM-ke with a trailer, two cranks were driving - the driver, who first appeared in the city, and the lieutenant - a two-year-old.
The latter practically did not go to Arkhangelsk, his simple geography was also not familiar to him. Well, that's okay! You drive in the middle of the column, look at the car in front and repeat the maneuvers, the whole business.
But you still should not open the mitten.
So, no one in his military department explained to this victim of universal military duty in officer uniform that there is a very big difference between a senior car and an ordinary passenger.
With our drivers, how to drive? If you sleep in a cabin, you wake up in a ditch.
If you wake up at all.
Without thinking about the bad, having recovered and having gotten warm, this fellow Presladko was dozing.
The column crawls, the headlights shine, the rest of the car does not interfere.
For Arkhangelsk, this sight was not surprising.
Now we, the air defenders, the sailors often carried something oblong and weighty under tarpaulins. Such a city is a hard worker and a warrior.
Drives up the column to the intersection. Remember?
It is necessary to make 2 turning left, further along the Smolny Buyan to the right, onto the bridge.
Behind the bridge there will be a stop at the GAI-VAI post - to give the drivers time to shake things up, take off their torpor. With our cargo to crawl through the city is not easy.
So, for reference, the street name Smolny Buyan has nothing in common with riotous graduation parties in the famous noble Institute.
There is nothing here and podgulyavshy brutal sailor with machine-gun belts.
The bayan used to be called the pier. In the old days, barrels of tar were loaded on ships at this place (tar, tar, wax - one of the main items of Russian export at that time), so the popular name “Island-Buyan” means the availability of moorings and loading equipment on the island.
Approached the crossroads. It should be a guard with a stick, regulates.
And the place, in the sense of organizing the movement, is lousy.
In Arkhangelsk, all the streets are narrow (the avenues are also), and here the tram routes still diverge in three directions.
Seeing the convoy, the sergeant quickly oriented himself, "locked up" everyone on the road, gave the go-ahead.
Maybe he recalled his recent service kindly, or maybe he just got so polite and careful. He missed the column in a benevolently emphasized way - all of our people noticed, except, of course, drooling at the collar, the elder third car.
After a hundred meters, the column turns left again.
And here, taking advantage of the indecision and slowness of the driver, in front of this third car some kind of hurry squeezed into a car.
The fighter, already frightened, numb, did not see anything except the “stop” of the Zhiguli looming before him.
At this time, the column crawls onto Smolny Buyan, turns right and climbs onto the bridge.
The first car, the second, behind it this shustrik on his ..., then the third turn.
Apparently, the departure to the right of this luxurious for those times disturbed carrier took it with relief, but I did not notice where the head-cars went.
He, not paying attention to the heart-rending signals of the fourth car following him, turns the steering wheel and shoots to the left, rather embarrassing and scaring the peaceful vehicles coming down from the bridge. ...
On the left bank, a torn down column and one-fifth of it fell.
Well, as usual, turmoil, short-lived swearing, and Seryoga, turning around, drove back across the bridge, catching the lost obalduevs.
And who else to go? You - the battalion commander, your fighter, your car, the rocket, after all, is also yours.
And on the right, the city, that amazing hour began to unfold at that hour.
Panicked, the warrior woke up the “young specialist,” who didn’t understand the wake-up at all, looking at an unfamiliar city.
After a minute or two, they arrived at Leningradsky Prospect.
The driver who had not yet lost his head remembered how several hours ago they had turned right here towards the location of the regiment.
Fairly judging that they are in the other direction, turns left. Still a bit, and they again at the intersection with the recent friendly traffic controller.
The guard, having spotted in the general flow the lit headlights of the tractor with a dangerous load, blocked the traffic in advance, enabling the backward, as he thought, from the column, to catch up with their own. They safely turned left, after another hundred meters they found the necessary turn, turned left again into the alley, and then Smolny Buyan.
The signs and signs hung in front of this intersection were perceived by them, apparently, as ordinary, but not obligatory, city decorations.
They really wanted to get on the bridge!
They understood that they were doing something wrong, but what they could not really understand.
Remembering the last time they successfully twisted here, forcing everyone to sharply slow down, skipping, they again, without saying a bad word, repeated the same elegant maneuver.
The creaking of brakes, the squeal of tires did not worry them, they did not hear the three-story greetings of the chauffeur brethren. Wow, luck, again there is no bridge ahead!
And there is still the same Leningradsky Avenue.
Well, well, stubborn happiness will smile - forward and to the left! The fact that they shy away from them, like lepers, both people and cars seemed to be beginning to like.
The guardian of order, already tortured by trams, buses and other participants in the confusion of the road, sees the “next” TZM-ku approaching its intersection.
A slight feeling of déjà vu was visited by the glorious servant.
He saw where all the previous ones were turning, from there one road - to the bridge.
What is there, on the left bank, the fighting began? Where are so many rockets ?!
The fact that no firewood is being brought under a tarpaulin is clear to anyone, even though from a distance this road train resembles a harmless logging truck, but only conditionally.
During the trip, horrible icicles and ice frogs gradually fell off the car, but instead the tractor and trailer were slicked by the city’s March mud.
Every time the lost transport and combat unit appeared at the intersection in a new “repainted” form, but perhaps the trained eye of the professional still caught some individual features. ...
The machine of the battalion commander, meanwhile, moved across the bridge in a general stream and headed towards Leningradsky Prospect. Seryoga hoped that the “losers”, realizing the mistake, would stop here somewhere.
He did not know that the disoriented Dolbozvons had already begun to enter into the taste of what was happening.
When his "light" (without a trailer) TZM-ka was moving down from the bridge, at that time the crazy travelers for the third time brought up their rocket.
Noticing a familiar TZM that flashed towards the prospect, they realized that they had chosen the right route and, consciously ignoring all signs, beeps, swearing and creaking of brakes, turned right after the winners, naturally, to the left.
Unable to find the disappeared car with the “product” at the exit to the “Leningradka”, Sergei tried to guess the direction in which she could hide.
Only two to choose from.
Either these baboons turned towards the regiment in general, or, more likely, they understood the situation, questioned someone and found the way to the bridge, but were stuck due to a technical malfunction.
Having decided this, the battalion commander moved towards a familiar intersection in order to find his stuck technique somewhere further.
Now another army vehicle, without a trailer, proceeded past the guard in the favorite direction, giving hope that the military had finally run out of ammunition. ... An, no!
Hope died, barely born.
After a minute, the headlights of the next ZIL, pulling the trailer with dangerous luggage, flashed again warningly in the automobile crush.
Something familiar and dear was guessed in a shameless manner of driving in a car to push the traffic forward, striving towards the one known to them and unattainable for others.
This time, the policeman had to stand before the choice.
To brake military equipment on the march? This is somehow not accepted.
On the contrary, traffic police should assist.
On the other hand, what to do if the column is endless, and this “column” seems to never end?
The third “but” is certainly the insecure nature of the cargo being transported. And there are no military controllers or other military personnel nearby, ensuring the passage of a large mass of troops and equipment.
There are many questions, no answers. Terrible vehicle approaching. ...
The police sergeant left his “Piglet” and moved towards the fate.
With a short whistle, he firmly indicated with a rod a place on the sidewalk.
Ha! Not on those attacked. Well, if the Red Army moved somewhere, you can't stop it with a whistle!
In the heat of the chase, trying to catch up with the Kombatovka car, these two mutts, it seems, did not even understand who was whistling to them.
Bypassing the annoying obstacle in the sheepskin and white belts, the car swerved, climbed onto the tramway line, shook the trailer menacingly from side to side and jerked on.
Now, the path of this “crew of a fighting machine” that was stunned from unsuccessful attempts to escape from the city ran through the tram tracks, which greatly expanded their ability to choose the speed of movement.
What they took advantage of.
Having passed the intersection with a crazy comet, we turned left, where the battalion commander finally met them, uncompromisingly blocking the way with his TZM.
And on the left bank of the head of the General Gene "metal spawn".
The vanished car with the “product”, the battalion that did not return, the unknown - all this greatly contributed to the adrenaline ejection from the senior column.
Waving his hand, Genka sits on his "light" car, turns around and scratches the bridge into the city.
At this time, the "champions of circuit racing", having received their portion of energetic Kombatov's "remarks", occupied their heated seats in the cabin.
It was impossible to linger long; cars had already begun to accumulate behind. In addition, the "traffic cop" unequivocally waving his hand from afar, making it clear that it is time to free the lane.
It did not occur to Seryoga, to immediately sit in the place of a dull “student” senior in his car, and show the driver to the dunce how to drive here to the bridge.
Well, the young captain, the diligent slave battalion commander about the limits of human stupidity, did not guess!
Having ordered to follow him, he got into his car and looked back without a break, watching the TZM with the trailer proceed, finally, this enchanted intersection at Smolny Buyan.
The machine of the battalion commander, having turned on the “turn signal”, turned to the right, moved to the bridge.
No one could explain further.
The “prodigal” TZM heavy-handedly launched its “pE-erku”, drove from the curb, again (again!) Having missed a couple of light cars, swam up to the intersection and turned… LEFT
Definitely at these woodpeckers "tower jammed" thoroughly.
With the already acquired dexterity, they shoved everyone moving down from the bridge, and moved towards the avenue.
Serega, who was following them from the footboard, almost fell out of the car.
It is impossible to turn around and nowhere, which means, forward - beyond the bridge, there, without losing time, turning around and backwards, to catch this unreleased auto train. One calmed commander already knew where he would meet them.
Just did not think what he would do with them!
On the bridge, he was met by Gena's car, who looked dumbfounded, not understanding why the battalion commander was returning alone. Seryoga could only show with his hand the approximate direction of the newly-disappeared "product".
Moving off the bridge, the chief of staff himself noticed a trailer, which had swung to the left along the avenue.
The guard, who saw how the commander stopped the "elusive", showed the direction and then headed the movement, calmed down a bit.
The traffic jam that arose through the fault of the “warrior” gradually resolved, the regulator's rod fluttered with a cheerful bee, dispersing the rumbling streams on four sides.
Everything returned to normal, becoming familiar and reliable.
Yeah, no matter how!
From afar lights flashed again. It seemed?
From a bad foreboding sucked in the stomach. And there is.
In the stream of cars, the ZIL-131 tractor, stubbornly pulling a missile along a familiar route, stood out familiarly.
The sergeant looked closely. ... Bah! Familiar radiator.
Wow, slipped away all the same! Burst out. Gone
What to do? Try to stop again?
One glance at the detached-focused faces, seen through the spattered visor, was enough to abandon such a venture.
It became clear - nothing will stop these!
These will go to the end.
On the cheeks - frozen pallor, in the eyes - the cold determination of the samurai.
Say, you're lying, you will not take!
Shoot the wheels, rush into a heroic pursuit, use other methods of forcibly stopping this crazy "rocket launcher", complete madness two steps from the city center (and from the headquarters of our army, by the way).
The locality had to be saved.
Further the guard only cleared the intersection for these enchanted boobies in order to avoid an accident. Maybe he was saying to himself the words of General Bessonov from "Hot Snow":
All that I can, brothers. All I can!
It seemed the guys were involved in the process.
Why? The road is familiar. The path is clear - all run away. Gasoline - under the cork.
All work - four times to reset the gas, but four times turn the wheel.
Left. No options and frills.
But on the "tail" they already tightly "hung" the chief of staff.
After another "turn" joined the battalion commander.
In short, squeezed, ground in, stopped.
Pulling the driver out of the cabin, Seryoga himself got behind the wheel.
Moved, finally, to the left bank.
There they busily and quickly parted both "fans of motor racing" on opposite sides of the car, where each of them was "over the head".
To revive. How else? Fools need to learn.
It’s still far to go - along the highway, along the rivers, along the sea.
Touched the same order. Only the elders of the third and fourth cars changed places.
And arrived! Without adventure, without much difficulty, in a single spirit. Never even stopped. "
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