Volodya came to the detachment as a person with life and military experience: he managed to finish a medical college, serve for several years in the army, then in the Saratov "twenty". And after the dissolution of this detachment led his soldiers' fate in Ufa.
It seems to be a guy from special forces. But despite this, the Ufim residents met him rather wary, one might even say, with chill.
“When I was introduced to the personnel of the group, many soldiers and officers doubted my medical qualifications,” the sergeant said, smiling slightly. - I am a man of character by nature, besides, I served in special forces, I know how sometimes it is not easy for people to get used to each other. I understood that it would take some time to become my own. And so he was calm about it. But the process was delayed.
My patience ended when a young, green, lieutenant who didn’t sniff at powder once said in a lesson with ambition:
- Yes, how are we going to fight with you, if you, probably, you can't even get into a vein with a needle!
Such doubt required an immediate refutation. It was necessary, right in front of the crowded fighters, to get a medical bag, quickly dial the “cheerfulness charge” cubes into the 20 syringe - this is a mixture of glucose and ascorbic acid - and invite this non-believer Thomas to the living room. The lieutenant came in, I turned off the light and in total darkness, to the touch, immediately put a tourniquet on him and from the first time I inserted a needle into a vein. No one doubted my medical abilities anymore.
So I got a registration in the squad.
In the future, I had to confirm my medical qualifications more than once. Alas, often in combat conditions, and, it happened, several times a day.
Thank you, doc!
... In the spring of 2011, the squad worked near Urus-Martan. The group, which included medical instructor Vladimir Iordan, had already been combing green water in search of gangster caches and bases for more than a week. Long daily transitions exhausting forces. It is hard to walk in the mountains even in standard equipment, and Volodya, among other things, was carrying on himself a heavy medical bag. Once he specially weighed it before going out - pulled almost fifteen kilograms.
On May 4, the special forces, as usual, lined up in battle formation, went into the mountains and there confronted a detachment of militants. Silence ripped off machine guns and machine guns. They slammed, scattering fiery splinters, grenade launchers. Vladimir barely managed to fall behind a tree and reload the machine gun when he heard a heart-rending cry:
- Doc! Maksimov injured! Come faster here.
Maximov, the group's full-time sapper, was still lying on the ground being shot. Jordan quickly jumped to the wounded man and, grasping his equipment, dragged him from the tubercle into the hollow, away from the bullets and shreds that had ripped the air.
The guy wounded in the leg. The bullet cut the calf muscle, by luck not hitting the bone. Tightening the harness quickly, Volodya managed to inject an anesthetic to the sapper and began to do the dressing. And here again he heard his name.
Having entrusted Maximov to his assistant, Corporal Mikhail Belyakov, Vladimir, every now and then instinctively pressing his head into the shoulders of the whistle of close-flying bullets, rushed to the next wounded man.
They turned out to be a sniper group Vadim Safin. He lay in a huge pool of blood, and his face turned pale before his eyes, turning white like chalk. And, worst of all, a bad, frightening blue - the harbinger of imminent death was already beginning to appear through this whiteness ...
When the medical instructor fell next to him on his knees and ripped up the bloody legs, he heard a hoarse whisper:
- Don't bother with me, doc. I seem to be ready ...
Vadim was for Volodya not just a colleague, but his best friend. At the temporary dislocation point of the detachment, their beds stood side by side. In free evenings, they liked to drive a seagull with delicious Bashkir honey together, to talk for life.
And now the sergeant saw how life was literally dripping from Vadim. All the further Vladimir did, as they say, on the machine.
Throwing aside the emotions, clenching the nerves into a fist, he instantly examined his comrade. The wounds were severe: Vadim had both legs cut off by a machine-gun burst, the bullets crushed the thigh bones and severed the arteries. The inlets are huge, and the blood is barely oozing out of them. It can be seen that little is left in her body, the whole has already flowed out.
Volodya was approached by a squadron commander, senior sergeant Maxim Vyazemtsev. He began to put the harnesses on Safin's feet, and Jordan quickly deployed and put the system out of a field dropper and a bag with a special serum to restore the blood circulation in the body of the wounded man. When the first package ended, Vadim stopped blue and opened sunken eyes. After the second - turned pink. And then he turned his head and suddenly said quietly:
- Treat me with a cigarette. Feel better like ...
Of course, it was impossible to smoke a wounded man. But at that moment Volodya understood that this was probably the last request of a friend, so he could not refuse. Silently took out a crumpled pack of Golden Java from unloading, lit a cigarette, made a couple of puffs, then put it in Safin's mouth. Having raised, Vadim wanted to drink. Volodya wetted the cotton wool with water and now he put her wounded friend in the dry lips.
So we missed the time before the evacuation.
The sanitary board arrived surprisingly quickly - after the battle less than ten minutes had passed. Vadim was raised to the salon, and the pinwheel, chopping the air with screws, rushed towards the “North”.
When the surgeon examined Safin's wounds, he just whistled in surprise: the blood loss was so great that if the medical instructor had done anything wrong or hesitated for at least a few minutes, Vadim would not have been saved.
Later, when friends met at the hospital, Safin arrived in a wheelchair to his rescuer and, without hiding emotions, began to shake his hand:
- Brother, thank you! - Tears were ready to roll out of Vadim's eyes. “It’s thanks to you that I’m alive.” You know, my daughter was born, soon I will see her. And if it were not for you ... Volodya, if it were not for this damned gypsum on my legs, I would stand on my knees right here in front of you. For now I just say - thanks, brother!
Not many doctors and medical officers are happy to hear such words addressed to themselves! Volodya Jordan admitted that in those moments he was truly happy.
Between the two trunks
... And the hot May 2011 of the year for the Ufa squad continued. 10 numbers during explosive search events on a land mine exploded Filyuz Kanchurin. Jordan was urgently called up in a chain, and he ran to the place of the tragedy. The injured man was already assisted by a medical orderly officer, foreman Yevgeny Kandrov. Vladimir sat down and began to help. A little later, they were joined by the head of the squad medical center, Senior Lieutenant Dmitry Khokhlov. So the three of them conjured over Filyuz.
The guy was almost torn off his foot. They put a harness on him, put the system in place, fixed the disfigured leg. Blood loss was average, so Kanchurin had to fly to the hospital without any problems.
Having a little rest, the search groups moved on. And two hours later, Oleg Surguchev was blown up ...
For Volodya Jordan himself, the combat work on that trip ended on June 21.
It was a typical sunny summer day. The detachment was in Khankala, no departures were planned. Suddenly, the alarm was announced. The commander briefly described the situation: in Dagestan, a battle began between the "spirits" and the "Alpha" fighters, and at the moment it is not clear who caught up with whom - whether we are them or they are us. In general, the second group - urgently on the flight!
They just disembarked from the helicopters, as a general approached Volodya and, skeptically examining him, said:
- Some kind of flimsy you, man, for the sanitary orderly. How will you get a wounded man out of the fire?
Jordan opened his mouth to respond, but the group commander intervened:
- Normal, he, comrade general, is no longer in one in the battle checked. If necessary, any bull will make. We completely trust him ...
Riding on that operation, Vladimir Jordan donned a heavy body armor, weighing 17 kilograms, and a kevlar protective helmet. From the side, he probably looked like a ninja bug.
To the base of the militants had to get on foot. The soil is marshy, the legs slipped, got stuck, sometimes the special forces failed knee-deep in muddy slush. In addition, the heat was forty degrees.
Vladimir was walking and cursing to himself that he decided to wear this damn body armor. Somehow he stumbled over to a large forked tree and decided to walk between the trunks, since both the right and the left of them could easily run into a stretch. As soon as he got into the "slingshot", he saw some stir in the bushes straight ahead. He threw up a machine gun and shouted something inarticulate.
And then there was a blow, a flash. And the light faded before your eyes.
... He woke up on the ground. Deaf and, as it seemed to him, he was very far from hitting a machine gun. Volodya thought that the fight rolled away, and he was obviously lost in the heat of the moment. Having gathered strength, he tried to scream, but did not hear his voice.
Then I decided to crawl to my own. Having somehow turned over on his stomach, for some reason he climbed through the tree again, trying to squeeze between two trunks accreted at the roots. And at that moment he felt that the tree was trembling rhythmically. And then it was as if someone started stabbing his legs with a knitting needle.
Volodya looked around in surprise: a “spirit” shot at him from a distance of several tens of meters. Here the gunman raised the machine gun a little higher, taking the amendment, so he pulled the trigger ... But the shot did not follow - the cartridges ran out in the store!
This saved Vovka's life: in the seconds given by fate, he managed to still roll over the “spear” and hide from the deadly metal behind a thick tree trunk, in which there was already enough lead stuck.
The enemy came to him stubborn, who wanted to finish off the wounded Special Forces by all means. Having reloaded the machine gun, he ran a little to the side and again sent several lines in the direction of Jordan. Volodka realized that this one would not just give up and, even having done his dirty deed, would be suitable to finish it off.
Malice gave strength. Pulling out the ribbed "efku" from unloading, Volodya caught the ring with his finger and began to wait for the fighter to be near or at least closer to him. And then he will try to leave this world not alone.
But friends have already rushed to the rescue. As if from under the ground sergeants Denis Zimin and Rafa Safin have grown. Sheltered behind a tree, they began to put harnesses on the wounded legs of a comrade. And the machine-gunner kept planting everything over them, alternately setting the tree in bursts, either to the right or to the left. The leaves shot down by the bullets and the chips chipped from the trunk fell on the special forces as snow.
Everything ended just as suddenly as it began: Rafa spotted where the "spirit" was coming from, and, adjusting himself, sent several shots from a rifle grenade launcher at his lair. More they were not fired.
Putting Volodya on the field stretchers, Rafa and Denis ran and dragged him to an armored personnel carrier, after which the armored ambulance rushed to Kizlyar regional hospital.
There, Jordan was immediately taken to the operating room. Maskhalat was cut off from him, boots torn by bullets. The last thing he remembered before plunging into a narcotic sleep was the wide-open eyes of a young nurse, who looked at his wounded, with undisguised horror, with her legs bruised and shattered with bones.
He woke up already in the plane flying to Moscow. Barely oklemal from the flight, as he immediately began to prepare for a new operation. At first, doctors cleaned and sewed up wounds on the legs, then they took up Volodya with his right hand ...
In the hospital, he spent a long four months. Suffered more than ten operations. He wore on the crippled arm and legs the Ilizarov apparatus, since the bones collected by the doctors also needed to be increased. And when at last he was able again to move independently, his legs stumbled heavily after injuries until they were swollen to such an extent that it was already impossible to stand on them.
It was worse with the hand: the surgeons did everything possible to preserve it, but they could not regain their mobility, it hung like a whip and absolutely did not obey.
In October 2011, Sergeant Vladimir Jordan returned to his home squad, to his former position. On which it serves today. And not only serves: with the approval of the command, he entered and is now successfully studying at the Bashkir Medical College. And daily persistent workouts trying to maximize restore the mobility of the injured hand.
Otherwise, he can not. After all, he is a medical instructor of the special forces combat group. Simply put - “dock” in camouflage.