When the base was cleaned, the commander contacted the core of the group to report the direction of withdrawal of the militants who survived the daring raid. Then he glanced at the three fighters standing next to each other - Virus, Negra and Eagle. They breathed heavily and, taking advantage of the pause that had arisen, they filled cartridges with automatic cartridges.
- Are you whole?
- How many are there? Starley nodded in the direction of the tattered with bullets and shrapnel fragments.
- Fine. We work on.
And then there were several hours of pursuit of the gang, wicked short-term fire contacts, the call of military helicopters and, as the final chord, the guidance of artillery to the square, along which the route of the enemy leaving for the mountains ran.
The last vivid impression of that insane day, forever in the smallest details imprinted in memory of Vyacheslav Muratov, was the whistle of approaching missiles and the waves of the earth coming under your feet ...
In April, 1975, in the town of Usolye-Sibirskoye, lost in the vast expanses of the Irkutsk Region, in the family of Vladimir Alexandrovich and Valentina Alekseevna Muratovy a healthy and lively baby was born, who was named Vyacheslav.
And then no one could have imagined that he would become a master of sports in tourism, a candidate for a master of boxing and a champion of the Russian Armed Forces in hand-to-hand combat. He will be twice wounded and twice presented for the title of Hero of the Russian Federation, awarded two Orders of Courage, two medals "For Courage", several more state and departmental awards ...
Some time after the birth of the firstborn, the Muratovs moved to Barnaul, where the head of the family began working as a welder at one of the local factories, and Valentina Alekseevna - as a seller in a factory store.
Soon Slavik appeared brother and sister. The times were such that in the city of a large family it was difficult. Therefore, in 1980, the Muratovs moved to one of the Altai villages, where they acquired their own house and garden.
“We had to work around the house a lot, so we grew strong and accustomed to everything,” recalls Vyacheslav Vladimirovich. - In addition to this, during my school years, I was seriously engaged in mountain tourism: on the Siberian rivers, with the guys we floated, we made difficult ascents, and there were crossings lasting many days through the taiga. Again, boxing, sambo, game sports. Well, he studied well.
All this allowed in 1992-m, immediately after graduation, from the first time to enter the Ryazan school of airborne troops. By the way, the competition in that year was seventeen people in place. In general, I became the fourth guy from the Altai Territory, who entered this illustrious university for his entire history, - not without pride, but without any bragging adds my interlocutor. - The first was Arkady Pisarenko, then Yura Novikov, a veteran of Afghanistan. Behind them, Maxim Drugov and me. Max and I arrived in one year, but his name is on the lists earlier, so it is considered that he is the third and I am the fourth.
We studied enthusiastically, and prepared us thoroughly. But how else: they only got out of Afgan, and now the Caucasus is boiling up. When they were in the third year, officers who had fought in Chechnya began to come to the school as commanders of cadet companies and platoons. We, students, and teachers from the department of tactics immediately took them into circulation. I remember, Professor Colonel Gorshkov, one of the recognized experts in non-standard methods of warfare, with reconnaissance paratroopers, worked especially closely with them. Such tactics as “Sota”, “Zvezda”, “Anvil”, which we then actively used, are all of his designs, made in view of the combat experience gained back in Vietnam and Afghanistan and corrected by the North Caucasus.
There was so much fighting romance in us then that it overlapped over the edge. In the 1995 year, when they were training in Ulyanovsk, they even wanted to go to Chechnya along with the units that were leaving for a business trip. At that time, the school officers were literally caught at the trains so that we did not break through into the wagons and did not go off to war. It came to that several of our cadets submitted a report on expulsion and a month later they found themselves in Chechnya as ordinary soldiers along with the same Ulyanovsk team, although less than half a year remained before graduation.
Everyone rushed into the present case, they wanted to have time to prove themselves. They did not think and did not know that that war would be enough for everyone ...
Not everything that is young is green
-? First campaign, I just hooked the edge, - continues the story Vyacheslav Vladimirovich. - He was assigned to the post of platoon commander in a separate reconnaissance battalion of the Novorossiysk division and in September 1996 participated in ensuring the withdrawal of its units from Chechnya. Formation as a paratrooper officer took place already in the "interwar" period.
It was an interesting time: in our case, the green lieutenants, the subordinates turned out to be fighters, sergeants, ensigns who had already participated in the battles, that is, they were more experienced and authoritative than their commanders. In my platoon, for example, served two such seasoned contract soldiers. One was two years older than me, the other was three years. Both, by the way, with higher education. The first thing I did when I accepted the position was that I called them: report that you know what you can do, what you have learned.
After such stories of fired fighters and conversations with officers who sniffed powder, the brains were already working differently: they began to think, to figure out how to improve their equipment, to disguise theirs and weapons improve. Some personal developments in tactics of actions appeared, which immediately began to test and grind in the classroom.
For example, they sew camouflage suits for themselves. It was wise how to fix a camouflage net over ordinary camouflage, so that it would be convenient to poke branches and tufts of grass into it when we go to an ambush or reconnaissance exit. Infantry usually camouflaged weapons with all sorts of rags, which in the woods and branches clung to and unrolled at the most inopportune moment, and the presence and route of the reconnaissance group could be unnoticeably torn off by a flap. And then we already became automatons with a special paint to lighten, which is easily torn off during cleaning, and the weapon quickly takes on a pristine, statutory look. They spent a lot of time preparing radio stations: before the headache they thought about how to make it more reliable, increase the range, how to disguise the antenna.
In 1998, for a month and a half, I had a chance to go to Dagestan: there a group of one of the regiments of our division, to which I was seconded, guarded the oil pipeline in the area of Botlikh. Also some knowledge was added. And, despite my youth, I was already considered an experienced officer.
Then I fired up the idea to serve in the special forces. On vacation, I went to a classmate who served in the 45-th separate guard regiment. "Advise, - I say, - how to transfer to you." And he: "Yes, no problems, let's go right now to the commander."
Then the events developed even faster. Kompolka briefly asked about life and service, asked a few questions, and marked something in his notebook. Called some officer: "Look at the guy." Came to the unit. I did not have time to cross the threshold, immediately the question: “Is there a form? Not? Now we will find! Dressed - and in the forest, on the standings on orientation. Then - at the shooting range, then - at the stadium, take the standards for physical training. When the regiment commander came back again, he already had a sheet with my results on his desk. “Everything,” he says, “you approach us. Go to the line, take the attitude, come. We wait".
So I got into the airborne special forces. And soon the second war began ...
Day for life
On the chevron of the 45th Guards Orders of Kutuzov and Alexander Nevsky of a separate special regiment of the airborne troops, the head of a gray wolf is depicted. His fighters were real wolves in that war: fearless and cautious, cunning and courageous, strong and dodgy, small reconnaissance groups flocking tirelessly scouring the forests and mountains in search of enemy bases and temporary camps. Upon detection of the object, the commandos acted on the situation. If possible, they raided, seized documents, weapons, ammunition, and communications equipment. If not, they pointed Aviation or caused artillery fire. They tried to avoid oncoming fights and big mess, steadily observing one of the main rules of their profession: “scout - before the first shot, after it - ordinary infantry” ...
Vyacheslav Vladimirovich does not like to remember what he had experienced and experienced in nine combat missions, and if he even speaks about some episodes, then short, chopped and military-style dry phrases, omitting details and details.
Yes, they worked a lot and intensively, sparing neither strength nor health. Yes, he was wounded twice. The first in the ninety ninth under Argun, decently got. After that, by the way, the first order received. The second time hooked three years later under Elistanzhi. They set up an ambush on the run and ran into a large detachment of militants. They were found, but they worked beautifully and correctly moved away, although five were injured then, everyone reached the evacuation point and returned to the base with spinners. No, it did not hurt much: after two weeks I was again in the detachment ... Here, practically, everything that I managed to get out of the scout about his combat work in Chechnya.
Only about one case, he agreed to tell a little more.
-? In 2002, it was. We waited, when the artillery in one of the squares in the mountains will work, and went to check that area. In the forest, stumbled upon a hole with fresh tracks around. Sit, brain, what's what. It seems like a freshly dug grave. Then a cigarette smoke pulled: oh-pa, it means that people are nearby! - Gradually, my interlocutor became more and more enthusiastic, mentally transferring to the events of his memorable day. “I sent the firearm and the core of the group, bypassing it, but with three fighters, I followed the trail right by right. Well, right on the base of these villains out.
There were four large tents for housing and two smaller ones. As it turned out, in one they prayed, the other was intended to store food. There was also a field canteen - a shed with tables and benches. Along the perimeter - the trenches are dug out, in the trees positions for observers and snipers are equipped. In general, such a solid camp in front of us drew.
"Spirits" in it, we counted at least twenty people. Observed them, assessed the situation. It was striking that the militants were clearly in a relaxed state. Therefore, we decided to make them ourselves, without causing helicopters or artillery fire. And the work went!
We Kalash were 7,62-mm. When four such “cars” begin to “talk” at the same time, this already produces a large psychological effect on the enemy. Plus, each podstvolniki. And then, we did not shoot in the air, but precisely. Sweetened “darling” between the tents, then, shooting muddled, ran out of the camp. We three together - for them. They broke straight into the center of the camp, did not spare either the grenades or the cartridges. Shot as much time.
It was possible to move there only in one direction, I sent the main group there and sent it. When they joined up with their guys, they followed the gang tracks. There were a few more fire contacts, we put four more. Then I feel, these villains began to break away from us. Then the turntables put them on.
The pilots of the gang caught up at the crossing, smashed a stone bridge, on which they crossed to the other bank. Then, under his body fragments, two more "spirits" were found. Well, when the helicopters worked, I called for artillery. And I don’t know how much Smerch has been there, I had to take the group out of the square faster, and even jump to the base, pick up the documents, weapons, and the bodies of the killed militants. So we left then very quickly ...
The last vivid impression of that insane day, forever imprinted in the memory of an officer, was the whistle of approaching missiles and the waves of earth going under the feet.
In the Balkan "resort"
What Vyacheslav Vladimirovich recalls with undisguised pleasure is the six months spent in Serbia as part of an international military contingent.
“I got there for rehab,” he says, smiling widely. And in response to my puzzled look, he explains: “When in the summer of 2000, after the first injury, he left the hospital and returned to the regiment, the commander looked at me and said:“ Muratov, well, what shall we do? You will not be sent to the Caucasus for at least six months now, the doctors will not be allowed until you restore your health ... And you go to the Balkans, scouts are required there ”. So I found myself in the position of commander of a special-purpose reconnaissance group of a separate airborne brigade of Russian peacekeepers.
Service there is a real resort compared to our North Caucasus. There were no fights with national formations then. In the city, the police sometimes engaged in exchanges of fire with criminal gangs, who after the war turned out to be belted, and we, the military, did not have any fights.
We stood in Uglevik, next door to the Americans. We were engaged in joint patrols, checking the organization of weapons storage in the warehouses of the former Yugoslav army so that it does not spread around the country. They also sought minefields that remained after the war, designated their borders, called sappers and covered them during demining. Here, in essence, is all the work.
There was, however, one interesting case. An American patrol drove into a minefield and exploded there. They had no dead, only wounded and shell-shocked. It was necessary to pull the poor fellows urgently, and wait for the sappers for a long time. Well, who else will climb mines, except for the Russian paratroopers? .. The command then tried not to betray the case to publicity, everyone presented it as an exercise, and even wrote it to the newspaper. But the mines through which we made our way were real ... When we got out of the minefield, we were faced with some kind of four-star American general who took off his helmet and shook his hand for a long time, repeating everything in Russian: “You are men!”. After some time, we were awarded the NATO medals.
And so nothing more significant and there was not. I say - the resort ...
It so happened that in 2005, Vyacheslav Vladimirovich, for family reasons, was forced to leave military service. But even after that, he found a worthy use of the knowledge, skills and experience acquired in the special forces of the Airborne Forces: today police colonel Vyacheslav Muratov works in one of the units of the Special Forces Service of the UFSKN of Russia in the city of Moscow.