The theory and practice of mine clearance or "Look under your feet."
Our platoon on the 2 Beters escorted some boss from the administration. With him, in one UAZ, some general Amer rode. The task is to show the crushed infrastructure of the local border service together with the Arabian conductor. In the best of times, it was a chain of forts-fortifications along the mountain border, with a distance of 7-10 km between them. The forts were located in pretty remote places, most often on high ground or on steep cliffs. I understand, for the best and long-term defense of them, in which case. Powerful buildings could boast walls with pillboxes of height 7 m and thickness up to 4 m. There were solid bomb shelters in the basements. But now they were the ruins shot as a result of endless wars. The holes in the walls were a meter and a half deep. Inside the mess and scattered things, tables, beds, inscriptions and drawings on the walls. In some it was possible to find traces of the recent arrival of people, most likely smugglers or refugees. Earlier, especially at night, we stopped by them for inspection. A couple of times they caught smugglers with opium. But then they stopped to visit them, because the roads to them were steep and dangerous, and on the Beter, and even at night, it was dumb to drive over the precipice. At best, walked, and then only to the nearest.
But for what I loved to ride on these forts, it was for landscapes. You look from a height and captures the spirit of the beauty of nature. Red-brown mountains with layers of white rock are clearly visible in the rays of the setting or rising sun. In the morning, in the clean air is very difficult to determine the distance. It seems - here stretch your hand and touch the top of that mountain, and here you will stretch and raise the neighboring fort. And in the afternoon the heated air makes fancy mirages and everything seems unreal, the mountains are moving. As on Mars, in the books of Berouza. I want to throw bronik and how John Carter siganut from a height, not afraid to break. Down in the valley flows a river, after the rainy season it is full of water and you can swim in it, and now it looks like a little dirty streamlet.
Near one of the forts, in the valley, there was a small lake. Once on a windless moonlit night, I saw the reflection of the sky in it, so clear and motionless that it seemed not to be a reflection but a hole in the ground and there also is sky and mountains. Real Looking Glass. I called the guys and we silently watched this miracle for half an hour. Everyone was afraid to break the magic of the moment with his voice. When someone struck a match to light a cigarette, they sneered at him accusingly. And then the sun rose, more precisely 2 sun - here and in the mirror. There was a feeling of peace and tranquility. I would like to feel this again. Back from that night patrol I (and probably not only me) returned a little bit different.
Well, yes it is the lyrics. Though dear to my memory, it is still lyric. Closer to the topic of stories. Patrol drove to the next fort. We dismounted. One branch, just in the unlikely event, went to check the building. A minute later I heard a couple of shots. The general was wary, we also moved to the entrance to the fort. We went to meet the guys:
“The jackals made a den,” they explained the shots and reported to the trooper: “clean, Comrade Senior Lieutenant.”
- Two at the cars, two with us in the fort, KPVTeshniki follow the mountains. You, you and you, - the finger pointed at me, - to guard the perimeter.
The platoon commander chopped up tasks and moved behind the civilian inside the building. I tried otmazatsya after:
- Comrade Senior Lieutenant. May not be necessary on the perimeter. Who are we here in the mountains are needed. There is no one ever. We will sit here, wash, drink water.
Oleg turned, looked at our dirty from the fine road dust muzzle and roared:
- I said - on the perimeter, it means - on the perimeter. Take the back of the water, you wash your face there. Look, see the hill. What is there for him? Go, look.
I looked in the indicated direction. The meters in 150 were some kind of hill. Whether the old bomb shelter or pillbox, or just a hill. I grabbed a bucklah of water, pulled on my helmet, threw AK behind my back and went to him. The sun was at its zenith. On the way, I kissed the bottle kindly, in one fell swoop after drinking a third of its contents. Inspection of the hill showed that this is simply a geological elevation of natural origin. I passed for him and saw the beauty of the world. Down in the valley, in the heat of the hot ascending stream, there was a green oasis. "I wish I could go there now," I dreamed. There was already another country. And even though I was clearly in the palm of my hand, I relaxed, slipped an overturned helmet in the backside and sat like a baby on the pot. After removing the cap, I moistened it and put it over the head without squeezing. He began to wash himself - he took water into his mouth and washed it out with a trickle on his palm. Dust creaked on my teeth, I spat and took water again. He washed again, leaning forward, pouring from the bottle by the collar. Warm from the heat, the water ran down his chin and dripped between his shoes. The drops blurred a black cork from a plastic bottle in the ground. How did she get here? And the color is some strange-black. Never seen one. I reached out and tried to pick it out of the ground. Feeling the edge of the cork, I noticed that it was not round, but cruciform. The melted brain tensed, recalling the familiar shape of the object. I pulled my hand back and almost fell off my helmet.
- Mly, bitch, mine. Buck into the brain, ass, pipets, hit.
Only mats reached the head. I was thrown into the cold. Adrenaline made the brain work feverishly. Stuck in an awkward position, I looked around. Found mine could not be alone. Every stone and bump seemed suspicious, but I was a little calmer. I looked at the find. Like ours, PMN-2 or PMN-3. Outwardly, it looks more like PMN-2, since PMN-3 self-destructs. Or maybe the self-destruct system did not work, so it can bang at any moment, from a bunch. I was again thrown into the cold. No, it is unlikely, rather, the "two" - "Black Widow", and the place here is that we need mines without self-destruction. So we remember what we learned - 50 grams of explosives, effort 15-25 kg, plastic case, how to put remember, but how to shoot - no. And, he remembered: "non-removable, destroy on the spot undermining." Very good, and how do we need it? No Then what for taught if it does not help?
Yes, fool with her, with a mine. It is necessary to leave from here. I looked around under my feet, without changing my position, pulled out the ramrod from the machine gun. He pulled on his helmet. He picked up the nearest stone, turned it over. Purely. Put a foot in there. Next stone Made a move. "At a sharp angle in 30 degrees, use a ramrod or knife to pierce the ground in steps of 5-7 cm." What is the ground, stones alone. Theorists, damn it, here them. In the manual for the stones did not say anything. Here, damn it, Oleg is to blame. I didn’t have to go here. Vinaya in all the platoon, I cautiously, turning over the stones and scattering them, was selected to the crest of the hill. As soon as I stood on him, straightened to his full height. No one was visible near the Batters; everyone hid from the heat in the shadow of the car. I removed the AK from the fuse and fired a burst into the air. A man looked out from behind the car and shouted something.
-MINES HERE IS MINES, I zaoral.
Seryoga (it was him) moved to me.
- Stop, dork, there are MINES.
Seryoga heard, stopped, and looking under his feet he moved to the fort. He was already met by an evaluation committee. Seeing Sereygu running and me on the hill, the interpreter-conductor chastened something to the platoon officer, waving his hands in my direction. Oleg came to me, looking at his feet. A couple of times he stopped bypassing the bumps. Having become meters in 100, he put his hands to his mouth and yelled:
“The translator says mine fields are there, be careful.”
- Thank you, blah, said in time! - I felt funny. - I already guessed!
Oleg looked around:
- See the boulder? Pave the way for him, from there we will take you as a baiter. Come on, be careful, do not hurry.
- And what if they hit on anti-tank here?
- Unlikely. It makes no sense. Here a tank you will not call in.
Before the boulder, 60 and 20 were minutes of time, which seemed a year. I turned the stones over and picked up the ground. He stepped on socks, the body ached from constant tension. Found on the way more 2 mines. He laid a pile of stones near them, as they were taught. I caught myself thinking that I can do it now without stones. Straight on them. Smiled. The last 1,5 meters to the boulder jumped.
Everyone silently watched me from afar. When I got up on the stone, I heard the clapping and cheering whistling.
“Crouch down and hide behind a stone,” KV shouted.
BTR on the first crawled in my direction, driving a platoon. All the rest remained at a safe distance. Oleg put the hand gas on small turns, got out on the armor and ruled his feet. Arriving at the boulder, he jumped into the cabin and slowed down. I climbed onto the armor. Slowly, the tracks rolled back.
“You have a bubble,” the platoon commented.
- With you too. He sent me there himself, - I did not agree.
“Okay, let's go home, have a drink together.”
So it was. Or almost like that - we drank more. In the meantime, we swallowed the dust, went to the next fort. The house was far away and we did not know when we would be returning.
But for what I loved to ride on these forts, it was for landscapes. You look from a height and captures the spirit of the beauty of nature. Red-brown mountains with layers of white rock are clearly visible in the rays of the setting or rising sun. In the morning, in the clean air is very difficult to determine the distance. It seems - here stretch your hand and touch the top of that mountain, and here you will stretch and raise the neighboring fort. And in the afternoon the heated air makes fancy mirages and everything seems unreal, the mountains are moving. As on Mars, in the books of Berouza. I want to throw bronik and how John Carter siganut from a height, not afraid to break. Down in the valley flows a river, after the rainy season it is full of water and you can swim in it, and now it looks like a little dirty streamlet.
Near one of the forts, in the valley, there was a small lake. Once on a windless moonlit night, I saw the reflection of the sky in it, so clear and motionless that it seemed not to be a reflection but a hole in the ground and there also is sky and mountains. Real Looking Glass. I called the guys and we silently watched this miracle for half an hour. Everyone was afraid to break the magic of the moment with his voice. When someone struck a match to light a cigarette, they sneered at him accusingly. And then the sun rose, more precisely 2 sun - here and in the mirror. There was a feeling of peace and tranquility. I would like to feel this again. Back from that night patrol I (and probably not only me) returned a little bit different.
Well, yes it is the lyrics. Though dear to my memory, it is still lyric. Closer to the topic of stories. Patrol drove to the next fort. We dismounted. One branch, just in the unlikely event, went to check the building. A minute later I heard a couple of shots. The general was wary, we also moved to the entrance to the fort. We went to meet the guys:
“The jackals made a den,” they explained the shots and reported to the trooper: “clean, Comrade Senior Lieutenant.”
- Two at the cars, two with us in the fort, KPVTeshniki follow the mountains. You, you and you, - the finger pointed at me, - to guard the perimeter.
The platoon commander chopped up tasks and moved behind the civilian inside the building. I tried otmazatsya after:
- Comrade Senior Lieutenant. May not be necessary on the perimeter. Who are we here in the mountains are needed. There is no one ever. We will sit here, wash, drink water.
Oleg turned, looked at our dirty from the fine road dust muzzle and roared:
- I said - on the perimeter, it means - on the perimeter. Take the back of the water, you wash your face there. Look, see the hill. What is there for him? Go, look.
I looked in the indicated direction. The meters in 150 were some kind of hill. Whether the old bomb shelter or pillbox, or just a hill. I grabbed a bucklah of water, pulled on my helmet, threw AK behind my back and went to him. The sun was at its zenith. On the way, I kissed the bottle kindly, in one fell swoop after drinking a third of its contents. Inspection of the hill showed that this is simply a geological elevation of natural origin. I passed for him and saw the beauty of the world. Down in the valley, in the heat of the hot ascending stream, there was a green oasis. "I wish I could go there now," I dreamed. There was already another country. And even though I was clearly in the palm of my hand, I relaxed, slipped an overturned helmet in the backside and sat like a baby on the pot. After removing the cap, I moistened it and put it over the head without squeezing. He began to wash himself - he took water into his mouth and washed it out with a trickle on his palm. Dust creaked on my teeth, I spat and took water again. He washed again, leaning forward, pouring from the bottle by the collar. Warm from the heat, the water ran down his chin and dripped between his shoes. The drops blurred a black cork from a plastic bottle in the ground. How did she get here? And the color is some strange-black. Never seen one. I reached out and tried to pick it out of the ground. Feeling the edge of the cork, I noticed that it was not round, but cruciform. The melted brain tensed, recalling the familiar shape of the object. I pulled my hand back and almost fell off my helmet.
- Mly, bitch, mine. Buck into the brain, ass, pipets, hit.
Only mats reached the head. I was thrown into the cold. Adrenaline made the brain work feverishly. Stuck in an awkward position, I looked around. Found mine could not be alone. Every stone and bump seemed suspicious, but I was a little calmer. I looked at the find. Like ours, PMN-2 or PMN-3. Outwardly, it looks more like PMN-2, since PMN-3 self-destructs. Or maybe the self-destruct system did not work, so it can bang at any moment, from a bunch. I was again thrown into the cold. No, it is unlikely, rather, the "two" - "Black Widow", and the place here is that we need mines without self-destruction. So we remember what we learned - 50 grams of explosives, effort 15-25 kg, plastic case, how to put remember, but how to shoot - no. And, he remembered: "non-removable, destroy on the spot undermining." Very good, and how do we need it? No Then what for taught if it does not help?
Yes, fool with her, with a mine. It is necessary to leave from here. I looked around under my feet, without changing my position, pulled out the ramrod from the machine gun. He pulled on his helmet. He picked up the nearest stone, turned it over. Purely. Put a foot in there. Next stone Made a move. "At a sharp angle in 30 degrees, use a ramrod or knife to pierce the ground in steps of 5-7 cm." What is the ground, stones alone. Theorists, damn it, here them. In the manual for the stones did not say anything. Here, damn it, Oleg is to blame. I didn’t have to go here. Vinaya in all the platoon, I cautiously, turning over the stones and scattering them, was selected to the crest of the hill. As soon as I stood on him, straightened to his full height. No one was visible near the Batters; everyone hid from the heat in the shadow of the car. I removed the AK from the fuse and fired a burst into the air. A man looked out from behind the car and shouted something.
-MINES HERE IS MINES, I zaoral.
Seryoga (it was him) moved to me.
- Stop, dork, there are MINES.
Seryoga heard, stopped, and looking under his feet he moved to the fort. He was already met by an evaluation committee. Seeing Sereygu running and me on the hill, the interpreter-conductor chastened something to the platoon officer, waving his hands in my direction. Oleg came to me, looking at his feet. A couple of times he stopped bypassing the bumps. Having become meters in 100, he put his hands to his mouth and yelled:
“The translator says mine fields are there, be careful.”
- Thank you, blah, said in time! - I felt funny. - I already guessed!
Oleg looked around:
- See the boulder? Pave the way for him, from there we will take you as a baiter. Come on, be careful, do not hurry.
- And what if they hit on anti-tank here?
- Unlikely. It makes no sense. Here a tank you will not call in.
Before the boulder, 60 and 20 were minutes of time, which seemed a year. I turned the stones over and picked up the ground. He stepped on socks, the body ached from constant tension. Found on the way more 2 mines. He laid a pile of stones near them, as they were taught. I caught myself thinking that I can do it now without stones. Straight on them. Smiled. The last 1,5 meters to the boulder jumped.
Everyone silently watched me from afar. When I got up on the stone, I heard the clapping and cheering whistling.
“Crouch down and hide behind a stone,” KV shouted.
BTR on the first crawled in my direction, driving a platoon. All the rest remained at a safe distance. Oleg put the hand gas on small turns, got out on the armor and ruled his feet. Arriving at the boulder, he jumped into the cabin and slowed down. I climbed onto the armor. Slowly, the tracks rolled back.
“You have a bubble,” the platoon commented.
- With you too. He sent me there himself, - I did not agree.
“Okay, let's go home, have a drink together.”
So it was. Or almost like that - we drank more. In the meantime, we swallowed the dust, went to the next fort. The house was far away and we did not know when we would be returning.
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