Many years passed from the day when I last saluted the flag of the ship and forever said goodbye to fleet. Much has changed since that glorious time when I proudly called myself a North Sea diver: getting married, having children, hysteria of perestroika, fits of publicity, the “charms” of the era of underdeveloped capitalism, gaining independence ... Life went on the bat. It would seem, what sentiments are there? Live for today, think about tomorrow more often. Let the past remain in the past!
But how can you forget your ship, which covered more than one thousand miles, which is familiar to you from the keel to the short cover? How to forget the guys with whom he shared everything: from a cigarette butt to a breath of air?
A strange thing after all - human memory. What a selective action! I can look for glasses for half a day, which I put in somewhere yesterday myself. And at the same time, I remember well every trapeck, every frigate, every hatch. I still remember my actions in case of an emergency alarm and my place on the combat schedule for urgent immersion.
Sometimes it seems to me that even now I could go to sea in my previous position. Alas, it is impossible. And not only because I now live in another state - in March 2002, the PKK CH "K-447" made its last outing at sea and was sent for recycling. Cut into needles ... However, this is personal.
You may ask, why are you so embarrassed, boy? The fact is that friends gave me a CD with the movie "72 Meter". If you want to get an idea about the service of submariners, do not watch the old Soviet films, in which the central figure is most certainly the political officer. Moreover, do not watch American underwater thrillers like “K-19”. Nothing but bitter laughter, they can not cause. See the 72 Meter ...
I want to share some episodes of my service in the navy. Immediately I warn you: if you are waiting for horror films, it is better to immediately close the page - none of this will happen.
The "circus", referred to in the navy as a naval tavern, began already on the train taking us to distant Leningrad. The senior of our group, the captain of 3 rank, was drunk to the position of a riz and lost all political and moral character, only the last lights of Chernigov disappeared far away. He lain until Peter himself, regaining consciousness only for taking the next dose. His assistant, the foreman of the 1 article, did not lag behind his elder comrade, but he didn’t cut down - the irrepressible naval prowess demanded an exit, for which he paid the door and window in the vestibule.
We, left to ourselves, also drank, ate, roamed the carriage with wild cries of “left hand drive”, “the right to board”, “give anchor”, etc., imagining ourselves to be such sea wolves, but in reality reminding cheerful pirate gang: drunk, arrogant, ragged (at home experts warned - "old men" will take everything away, get worse). I will say straight away - upon arrival at the half-crew on Krasnaya Gorka, we were forced to send all the clothes home.
On the half-crew circus continued: we were given a form. For example, I’m 54-th size, 4-th height, moreover, that I wore 48-3! If the issue was still being resolved with the trousers: he straightened the belt, then the Dutchman was just a misfortune: the neckline reached me to the navel, and the shoulder straps hung on the sides, like Prince Bolkonsky's epaulets! In addition, with each movement she strove to move from her shoulders and become something between a straitjacket and a Scottish skirt! I had to stitch the neckline to reasonable limits (they didn't allow me to suture anything else, so the whole study went stuffed).
From the school, the most memorable feeling of constant hunger was remembered: the young organism demanded its own, and the allowance rates were calculated, apparently, for infants. The way out was found simple: after supper one person was sent to the galley (for some reason they always found themselves always hungry from Gus-Khrustalny, Sun), and he dragged a full gas mask bag of bread. Of course, there was a buffet, but how much will you go for 3.60?
We must pay tribute, they taught us well, even DEU (the current power plant) was, it only worked not from the reactor, but from the usual boiler room.
Forever remembered lessons on HDL (light water training). The very first dive added gray hair to my short-haired head: I didn’t have time to dive to the bottom of the pool, as water began to flow into the CPS (lifeguard of the diver). Of course, the depth of 5 there is only meters, and the cable is insure, and experienced instructors stand at the top, but then you would try to explain it to me! In general, they pulled me out on a rope, like a frog on a fishing line, tightened the valve and tightened it with songs!
What else in the schoolbook was remembered, so this is the first trip to the bathhouse. First, it was the first exit to the city (and in Kronstadt there is something to see), and secondly ... When we finished washing, we were given fresh linen - father light! Here it is, the promise of connoisseurs: vests - as if torn apart after the battle, panties - as if they were wrapped in a grenade and pulled out of a check, socks - I will keep silent. But we were worried for nothing, the “buyers” who came to pick us up checked everything in the most meticulous way, and we left for the North as new pennies. And about what was there - in the next story.
The closer the completion date of the training was, the more we rushed to the fleet, to real warships. The idea that you could be left in school, command the same salagas that we were six months ago (yes, hand on heart, and remained), was terrifying!
There is no worse word for the sailor “berbaza” - you wear a sea uniform, and you only see the sea from the shore. Looking ahead, I will say: even after hitting the fleet, one of our guys still did not escape this sad fate - the remaining 2,5 of the year he served in the headquarters of the division. God, how he envied us!
But this is so, the lyrics, so that you understand our state, when “buyers” finally appeared. Reception and transfer of personnel did not take a lot of time, farewell to the remaining (two went to the naval school, one preferred training in the naval service), foremen, midshipmen and officers, and now - again the train carrying us further and further to the north . The trip was somewhat reminiscent of a journey six months ago from Chernigov to Kronstadt: the same uncertainty ahead (a submariner, a submariner, and which ship do you get on? Yes, and do you even get?), Unfamiliar landscapes outside the window ... However, the landscapes ceased to speed interest us. But this time we weren’t given much time to roam, but we still managed to “stroke the path”.
But the whole thing is that our followers either did not pay attention, or simply did not want to pay him to the “fifth column” in the person of the conductors: “Boys! Cookies, waffles, chicken ... ”- and in the basket under the biscuits, waffles and chicken - bottles of little white! Of course, the sailors are not rich, but to many of us, before the release, our relatives came (as a child for Kudykiny mountains, they link to the Polar Region!) And, of course, they left behind. And how much does a sailor need, who has not tasted beer for half a year?
Finally, by hook or by crook, the next half-crew, now in Severomorsk. Compared to him, Krasnaya Gorka began to seem like an earthly paradise: all day on the parade ground, food - nowhere else, and God knows how many shifts: had breakfast at 4.00, and had dinner after 24.00. And so almost a week.
And here is the distribution - the Kola Peninsula, the village of Gremikha. Hmm ... Gremikha ... Hu from Gremikha? Although - what's the difference, the main thing - we know where! Rejoiced as little children. Then they did not hear, stupid, naval jokes: "If the whole Kola Peninsula is taken as an ass, then Gremikha is the very place."
When the young officers on the distribution were offered Gremikha, they tried to disown such “happiness” by hook or by crook. Then they have a choice - Yokangu! The officer happily agreed, not knowing that Yokanga ... just the old name of Gremikha!
However, the conditions for officers there are really not the best. We, the sailors, the barracks are our home, but then the young midshipmen with the officers also live with us, in the barracks, in four-seater cabin! All this is proudly referred to as an officer’s hostel, but it’s no easier for them!
And the climatic conditions leave much to be desired, we were joking: in Gremikha the wind blows all the time - all the time in the face. In tsarist times, political prisoners were exiled there, there is even a monument - a dugout, surrounded by human skulls.
But be that as it may, Gremikha is so Gremikha. We departed from Severomorsk late in the evening. It must be said that there are no housing within 400 radius from Gremikha, and no roads lead there, neither highways nor iron. There are two ways: by sea or by air. Air disappears by itself - only a helicopter on special missions. Sea - the ship "Vatslav Vorovsky" once every four days, and the one from Murmansk. But in the fleet for such cases there is a reliable means - BDK (large landing ship). Here it was given to us!
And during loading, I first saw the northern lights. At first, I didn’t even understand what it took to be the flashlight. The sailors with BDK explained. I looked spellbound! It really fascinates, you know, like a fire - you look, you look and you can not tear yourself away ... Imagine a huge, light, like an air curtain, suspended by uneven zigzags just above your head. And this curtain fluctuates, as if under light gusts of wind, and many people run around it with candles in their hands, and from this, light stripes of different width and intensity move along the curtain in different directions. They either intersect and run farther on their way, then collide like balls and scatter in different directions ... Then I saw a lot of lights, brighter, more colorful, but this, the first - faded, of some green shades, it seemed to me like family, and I will not forget him until the end of my days ...
... Finally, my mouth was shut, turned to the side of the ladder and lightly thrust my knee in the ass - it's time to board! Placed us, naturally, as armored personnel carriers and Tanks - in the cargo hold. Cabins of personnel and landing cubicles - to officers and foremen.
Well, yes, we were not particularly offended: the new unknown life, which we entered, overwhelmed by an abundance of impressions. They broke up in groups for acquaintances, chose a place drier (in the hold there was water here and there) and - to rest, there was a long passage ahead.
One thing is bad: we were consumed with food - instead of the suhpayok put in such cases, they put out a few bags of sea crackers. Have you tried sea crackers? Not? Lucky you. These are not salty croutons for beer - a hefty slice of black bread two fingers thick, dried to a state of smashing with a sledgehammer. In fact, they can be soaked in boiling water, just where to get it? So we gnawed them, almost breaking our teeth, and it seemed to us that we had never tasted anything tastier.
... Prophet howler - Gremikha! We were unloaded from the BDK - Father Light! Surely many of us remembered Ostap Bender with his "we are strangers for this celebration of life." To call a holiday what we saw was impossible even with a big stretch: gray dull sea, gray dull fells, gray houses, even people at first seemed gray and dull ... Could I then assume that I would love this stern, but unique edge forever that, after many years, I will dream of a "gray dull" sea and hills?
But there was no time to despond and be sad - we were taken to the barracks: the standard five-story building, of which a lot was stumbled across the expanses of the former USSR. Only now these standard buildings turned out to be not quite adapted (more precisely, not at all adapted) to the conditions of the Arctic - in the winter, on the window sill, half of the window was covered with snow. From the inside. Perhaps the high authorities decided that the submariners are not enough for the military service? Who knows the dashing move bureaucratic thoughts?
How we were distributed among the crews, to tell and it would not be worth it - the usual naval-bureaucratic routine, if not one "piquant" detail - it was Saturday. And what does every self-respecting crew do on Saturday? That's right - a big tidy! We, in the absence of another place, were placed on the crew of Rear Admiral Yefimov, which the local sailors did not fail to take advantage of - we licked the barracks to them, sho glistened like cat eggs. To justify the guys, I’ll say: no one spread rot, didn’t drive, they just helped their youth.
By the way, by the way. There are no spirits, scoops, grandfathers, etc. in the fleet. Naval "table of ranks":
- up to half a year - crucian;
- from half a year to a year - dodged crucian;
- up to one and a half - greyhound carp;
- up to two - one and a half;
- up to two and a half - under the umbrella;
- up to three years old;
- well and above - civil.
According to this sheet, on the herachut everything is cleaned up to the students. They do not walk either - they refill cots, etc. Type - cosmetic repairs. Podgobki sometimes appear from the smoking room, watching the order, well, so that someone older is not particularly borzel and does not spread rot to young people.
Well, after - a solid lafa! The officers and the midshipman (by the way, in the naval jargon, the midshipman - the chest, but we didn’t call ours so - respected) dispersed to their homes, remaining in the "officer dormitory" did not pay us any attention, the duty officer also retired to them and we were presented to themselves in the truest sense of the word. And what about the sailor in glorious Gremikha? You will not go to a self-propelled gun — there is no place; I want to say that the territory of the military unit in the usual sense in Gremikha was not - no fences, checkpoints, etc. etc. Only the piers are fenced, and even the usual “chain-link” grid with several rows of spines at the top, neither give nor take - a garden plot.
Of all the entertainment available to us, the most popular was cinema. Cinema ... Cinema at the submariners of the 41 division ... Each crew had its own cinema installation - "Ukraine" and its own projectionist. And after finishing a big tidy on Saturday and all Sunday we watched a movie. On the eve, the projectionist received a couple of films based on the base, we quickly watched them, then changed them with other crews (our 11, plus the third division 4-5, plus several OVR brigade ships) and watched and watched and watched ...
And on Monday we were distributed among the ships and finally it happened - we are leaving for YOUR ship (nobody goes anywhere in the fleet, they go away in the fleet). Before that, we had already seen him from the window of the barracks, and it seemed to him that it was very close, some minutes on the 5 move. But it only seemed. The fact is that Gremikha is located on the hills, and the road resembles a mountain serpentine, so the path can be very deceptive - you can go half a day before what seemed close, and seemingly very distant only half an hour. So before the ship was more than an hour go.
The sight of him just stunned me! Of course, after the training, I knew its technical characteristics: length, width, displacement and so on, and so on ... I was even on a submarine, small, diesel. But what I saw! ..
It became even creepy - such a huge object! We climbed the gangways on board (not forgetting, of course, to pay tribute to the flag), then to the cabin fencing, up the ramp to the bridge, and to the hatchway. Over time, I learned to fly on the upper ladder in the blink of an eye, as they say, "to fall down." The first time, according to the apt expression of marine writer Alexander Pokrovsky, I crawled like a pregnant cuttlefish on thin ice.
The path to my eighth compartment resembled the path to the ship: it would seem, go straight and you will come. Not here it was! Up, down, left, right. No wonder and get lost! Then I walked this way without even noticing it, but it was later, with gaining experience, when all movements were worked out to automatism, but for now ... As I rolled over the bulkhead doors, like all the same pregnant cuttlefish.
I want to say that the art (namely art!) Of the passage of the bulkhead doors is not as easy as it might seem at first glance. For some reason, a person, if he needs to crawl into some kind of hole, be sure to put his head in there, absolutely not thinking that he has a chance to get something through it, even the same bulkhead door!
They don’t walk through the bulkhead doors: first the leg, then the torso, and only then the precious little head. And experienced sailors grab the cremallera with one hand (this is a handle for sealing the door), the second - for the edge of the hatch, jumping with your feet forward - and you are already in the next compartment!
But here I am in the eighth. First - the DEU remote. Mum dear, do I ever manage to figure out the intricacies of signal lights, switches, switches, taps, valves, and other light and shade ?! For a moment, I wanted to go ashore, to the pigsty ... But nowhere to retreat, you will have to figure it out.
Next is the engine room. Again vertical ladder, again pregnant cuttlefish and ... Wow! A turbine, a reducer, a turbogenerator, capable of supplying power to a small town, huge flywheels of directional valves, no less huge air conditioners that someone's smart little head placed right above the aisles. How many times during a storm during a storm did I count them with my head! But it is impossible without them: during the “Silence” mode, when all the extra mechanisms are turned off (including air conditioners), the temperature in the compartment rises - where is your Sahara!
But this is all later, but for now the dream of a young sailor is a hold. Yes, well, a sad sight ... I thought - is it really all mine? Of course, not all, but in the first months of service - mostly. There is a lot of stuff there that can incredibly “delight” a sailor. And so, in general, nothing, hold as hold.
It was only embarrassing that in the very near future it was necessary to study the placement of all the mechanisms as well as your own face, so that at any moment you could find any valve, any Kingston or pump in total darkness and not cut your head off.
And this study was called the surrender of the test for self-government by the battle post. Oh, what is that credit! Then I had to pass a myriad of different tests, but this one ... You are given two “sheets”: one dozen three questions on general ship systems, the other - the same amount on personal management. And you start to learn ...
It is done this way. Suppose I need the ATG oil system. I crawl into the hold, find the right tank, pump and crawl through the pipeline. Suddenly, what the hell - another pipeline blocked my way, and I couldn’t crawl it in any way! I put a flashlight on "my" pipeline and zigzag obs I crawl a barrier. I find my own flashlight around the world and crawl on. And then, having studied, I went up to the necessary officer and told him what I had learned, prudently omitting passing “adventures” - he himself knows, he also crawled.
Without this, it is impossible, otherwise a disgraceful “0” will flaunt in front of the combat number on the pocket of the robe, indicating that you are still not a submariner. Like, you say, and there is not yet? Alas, not yet. Submariner makes the sea, the first dive.
The first exit to the sea, the first dive - how to compare them? Hard to say. My favorite writer A. Pokrovsky, himself a submariner having autonomous lines on 12, compared this with the first woman. I do not know. I don’t remember her name, but I remember the first dive in almost every detail. I would personally compare it with the first parachute jump (fortunately, there is something to compare): I want to, and it hurts!
It all began in a very prosaic way: from loading autonomous stock. Fascinating, I tell you, occupation. And not easy: such a benefit of civilization, like a crane, does not take part in this process - it is considered that there will be enough ordinary ropes and crew. There is one small but very pleasant but: during the loading of the autonomous (i.e. due to ensure the stay of the boat at sea for 90 days) the supply of food, the resourceful sailors manage to replenish their personal “autonomous” stocks. And they so help out during long watches!
Then there was the transition to the ship. It’s also worth a look: bent under the load of mattresses, pillows, knots with uncomplicated sailor's belongings, a black snake stretched towards the piers. For locals, this is a clear sign - the crew goes to sea.
Finally we are on the ship. The navigators "turn on" their gyrocompasses, the movement division - the reactor, the final preparations and - now the tugs have approached our board. It's time! A siren screamed, the command sounded: “Stand in places, take off mooring lines!”, A slow move was given - and now the 130-meter cigar slowly fell off the pier. In the sea!
After the passage, the narrowness played an end to the alarm, and for the first time I was able to climb the bridge to smoke. Of course, in the database we did this countless times. But then in the database! In the sea, everything is different, even the taste of a cigarette seems different. With our eyes full of happiness, we gazed at the gray ribbon of the distant shore, at the waves rolling over our nose, at the wake, stretching by a long, wide fan, and breathing freshly, slightly algae-smelling sea air ... Soon we will have to forget its smell for a very decent time.
Then - the first meal on the ship. Such an abundance then it was possible to meet only in a chic restaurant: sturgeon balyk, Finnish savelocutik, red caviar! I don’t say about sweets: the most varied jams (before that I didn’t even imagine that there was jam from rose petals), the Bashkir medok and, of course, the weakness of a submariner - condensed milk.
But here the howler snapped up an urgent immersion, we rushed at full speed on the battle posts, the teams fell down, and the boat began to fall into the depths ... If you are waiting for a story about how I felt the increasing pressure of water with my every cell, how bad thoughts were buried in my head, how fear began to emerge in your soul — you got the wrong message. There was nothing of this. And not at all because I am a brave notebook!
He is afraid of the incomprehensible who does nothing and can concentrate on his feelings, on what is happening behind the board. We just had no time to deal with such nonsense, we worked. And when we were able to pay attention to our own person, it turned out that there was nothing to be afraid of! Everything is normal, everything is working in normal mode, comrades are laughing and joking around. And the truth is, what is there to be afraid of? I have to rejoice: I am a submariner! Cheers, comrades?
No, until the cheers, the most important thing remains - dedication to submariners. It is something akin to christenings, only there water is watered, and here they drink it.
According to the "chestnut" (general ship speakerphone) they announced: "Depth - 50 meters!" We climbed into the hold. Someone from the guys unscrewed the cover from the emergency flashlight (a small lamplight, somewhere 0,5 liters), someone nadisnoy overflow water in it ... I had to drink a volley, not looking up. Stratil - drink on the new.
I take the first sip. The teeth are immediately burned by icy cold - temperature overboard degrees 5, not more. But you must drink at all costs! It burns the throat, stomach, teeth anymore, I just don’t feel them. The three of us stay: me, the cover and the water. The brain drills one thought - drink, be sure to finish it! I throw my head back, shake the last drops in my mouth ... That's it! I am a submariner!
Consciousness gradually returns. Around crowded guys, friendly smiles, cuffs, pat on the shoulder ... It is finished!
Then there was more than one campaign, including full autonomy, and with the breaking of the hull of the boat of the Arctic ice, and with rocket shooting, and much more. But this, the first campaign, will remain in my memory for life. Yes, this is understandable - he was the first!
A unique trip, which I want to talk about in this part of my notes, was made in the summer of 1981-year, when the first submarine cruiser of the 941 “Shark” project with reinforced buttresses for ascent in the ice of the felling fencing, only passed the sea trials.
In fact, they used to go under the ice before: both the Americans in their Nautilus, and the Soviet K-3 Leninsky Komsomol surfaced in the polynya, but these were torpedoes. But the missile submarine cruisers have not yet been there, because the main task of the ships of this class is the launch of ballistic missiles. Is it possible in the conditions of the Arctic ice?
The attractiveness of this method of carrying combat duty is that in such conditions the missile carrier becomes invulnerable to any means of the enemy’s anti-submarine defense. Given the complex acoustic situation under the ice, it is not something to hit, but also unrealistic.
In the autumn of 1980, the crew of Rear Admiral Efimov set out to explore. They were given the task to go under the pack ice, find a suitable wormwood and surface. At first glance, the task is not particularly difficult, you just need to get into the polynya. But simplicity is deceptive. The fact is that without a move the boat can not stay in place, it either having a positive buoyancy floats, or - having a negative one - is sinking. To the very bottom ... It's like the predator of the seas - the shark. These fish, unlike the others, do not have a swim bladder and are forced to move all the time.
This is where the dilemma arises: either it stops and drowns, or crashes with all the dope into the edges of the open-hole area, and how this ends for the boat and the crew - only Neptune knows. But the way out was found long before this campaign and it was called modestly - the system “Spar”. What is the essence of this system? And the essence, as well as all ingenious, is simple: it is worth stopping the boat to begin to fall, as the water from the special tanks of the Spat system begins to be pumped out and the boat floats. Automatics immediately switches the pumps to pump and the boat fails again, etc. etc. That is, the boat does not stand still, it "walks" up and down, but we didn’t care about it - the main thing is that there is no forward movement. Looking ahead, I’ll say: if you knew how we were endured by these endless “Under the“ Spar ”becomes without a turn!”, Because such maneuvers are performed by anxiety, which means that you have to hang around combat posts ...
But back to the crew of Efimov. We, the K-447 crew under the command of Captain 1 of the rank of Kuversky, learned that they brilliantly coped with the task, returning from service in the Atlantic. Of course, we were happy for the guys, and what a sin to conceal, a little jealous of them - still, such a trip! They were jealous and could not even imagine that it would take just over six months and our turn would come. Moreover, the task will be very difficult for us: we have to break the ice with the hull and launch a volley with two missiles to the area of the Kura (Pacific Fleet) test site.
The march itself was preceded by several months of grueling workouts, surrender of coastal tasks, a control exit to the sea, loading of an autonomous stock, in general, an ordinary naval routine preceding the fulfillment of the main task. Meanwhile, about a dozen “egg heads” arrived on the ship — scientists seconded for the duration of the cruise, who immediately installed special instruments on the hull to measure the load on the hull when surfacing in the ice. But finally, the transition to Okolnaya Bay for loading practical rockets, and then - the course of the north and forward over the corpses, do not take prisoners!
To the edge of the ice field, we were accompanied by the submarine of the 705 project - a small, high-speed one, stuffed with automatic equipment, by no means indulging a miracle with a crew of several dozen officers and midshipmen. In addition, there was a conscript - cook. Well, then we went by ourselves.
The transition to a given area was not remembered by anything special - as usual. New was just ice over his head and the understanding that if something happens - we will have nowhere to emerge. But about this as it was not thought. It was much more interesting to hang around MT (a marine TV, several of its cameras were installed in the upper part of the hull) and to view the ice from below. Although - I'm lying, there were a couple of funny cases.
The first case. Some of our midshipmen (I'm afraid to lie, kind of like a boatswain, but not sure), according to the stories of colleagues from the CPU, not satisfied with the “People's Commissariat”, invited one of the scientists, took out the shabby (hidden in the naval jargon) NZ, they nicely yanked decided to smoke. Right in the cabin! Of course, the watch 5-th compartment heard the smell of smoke - the scent we have developed on it is excellent, because the atomic bomb can be more terrible than the fire on the submarine. Six months after the demob, I could hear the smell of a burnt match being in another room. In general, watch politely, but aggressively asked to put out cigarettes.
They put out to put out, but you want to smoke! Especially after the accepted sotochka, and maybe not one. In short, these "sea wolves" did not come up with anything better than to go to smoke on the bridge, the ladder on which is exactly opposite the CPU. The first got midshipman, followed by a scientist. But the ship is in a submerged position and the top and bottom hatchways are battened down! This is what the midshipman, who has lost all political and moral status, did not take into account. And with all the dope, he ran a wild head into the lower hatch of the cabin! As the watchmen of the TsP were told, at first there was a dull blow, then a selected mat, then the noise of two bodies collapsed from a three-meter height and again a select mat. I think if they were sober, they would surely break. And so - nothing, only the commander for a long time recalled the midshipman to smoke this campaign ...
The following incident happened with your humble servant, and for me it was not at all amusing - my tooth ached. But the tooth of nonsense - the dock tore it quickly and quite professionally (ship doctors - they are). The trouble is that the flux on the floor of the muzzle still did not want to go and my distorted look for a long time caused sympathetic smiles from the crew. But the most annoying, he didn’t get off after the ascent, and therefore, taking pictures on the Arctic ice, I had to hide the right half of the face behind those in front.
Well, about the surfacing. Another time they played the alarm, they heard the already wrinkled teeth "To stand in places, it becomes under the" Spar "without a turn!" and it began ... It was possible to break through the ice only after several attempts, the whole process was accompanied by rolls, trimming, ice crash over your head - the body seemed to burst ... The feeling was not pleasant. But after the ascent!
I did not see such whiteness before or after. In the first minutes after the luminescent lamps, we apparently resembled the Japanese, so it was necessary to squint. I also remember the appearance of a floating boat: around it is snow of extraordinary purity, and in the middle of this whiteness there is a black edifice with rudder wheels hung like an elephant’s ears (they were turned 90 degrees so as not to break off the ice). The spectacle is awesome and a bit ominous.
Then photographing, traditional football, scientists took samples of ice and water and, finally, why we actually came here - shooting rockets. The entire compartment gathered on the upper deck at the clock, again the alarm, the chief command officer announced about a five-minute readiness, then readiness one minute. We wait. A minute passed, then another second, the second, and suddenly - a low, uterine growl, turning into a roar ... I don’t even know what to compare with this sound. I heard An-22 flying at low altitude, taking off "Ruslan" - all this is not that. Finally, the boat swayed and the roar was removed. A few seconds later, the second rocket went away.
And then there was a return, ascent again, this time the usual-usual, incomparable smell of fresh sea air ... At the edge of the ice field, we were again met by the already familiar anti-submarine of the 705 th project and escorted to the base itself. And in the base - flowers, orchestra, traditional roasted pig. Not without Hochma.
The first Hochma almost ended in a heart attack for our commander, when he saw this little Lyra mooring at full speed. We were slowly and stately dragged to the pier by two tugboats.
And the second Hochma pretty much amused our mooring team that came out to take their mooring lines. After all, we have a ship with more than ten thousand tons of displacement, and the corresponding mooring lines are steel cables with a girth. You will not take such mooring lines with your bare hand, the guys wore oiled canvas gloves, clean to you by the slinger at the construction site. And then they threw them neat, little white caprone with three fingers thick!
During this trip, the ship's commander Leonid Romanovich Kuversky was presented for the title of Hero of the Soviet Union. In addition to him, four more senior officers received battle orders, the rest of the crew successfully escaped gratitude from the Commander-in-Chief of the Navy and the pennant of the Minister of Defense "For courage and military prowess."
Received his Golden Star and another "friend". The future commander of the Black Sea Fleet of the Russian Federation, and at that time the commander of our division, Edward Baltin, walked with us as the providing officer of the division headquarters. I don’t know what he was providing there, but according to the guys who were keeping the watch in the center, he was more nervous about the commander.
But on the incident of several years, already in times of "publicity", I managed to see an interview with the commander of the Russian Black Sea Fleet E. Baltin. What he just did not tell! And that was his idea, and that in Moscow it was not even known that the ship had left for firing from under the ice ... He who served on the submarine knows that a ship of this class, without the knowledge of Moscow, will not lead the reactor, and certainly not will go to sea, not to mention the firing of rockets.
It remains to add that for our boat this ascent was not in vain,