Military Review

Two days in December and four minutes in April (end)

Yusuf did not hear the explosion. After the release of the rocket from the MANPADS pipe, an invisible force pushed him. Slipping, he fell his head between the skis, strongly hitting his ear on the edge of the ski. Not sleeping all night, tired of walking, Yusuf, like an old man, dozed off, sitting on Ramirez's corpse. He did not hear the approaching aircraft, but at the moment when Yusuf afterburner turned on, something pinched from the inside. He spent a lot of time to bring the pipe into the fighting position. The plane, describing the arc, was approaching and was about to get into the dead zone. Could not see it and capture it in the guidance system. Yusuf pressed the trigger almost simultaneously with the target buzzer buzzer.

“Allah Akbar,” he repeated in a whisper, kneeling and trying to wipe off the melting snow and ice floes stuck in his beard.

The plane turned 180 degrees and, flopping into a deep snowdrift, he slid his tail forward, lifting tons of snow to the height of the 10-storey building. The working left engine continued to deploy the plane already in the snow until it hit the single tree, the wing fell off and set off on a short independent flight, writing out the craters as a maple seed.

The one-winged collar subsided five hundred meters from Yusuf. Having received the opening command a second before the explosion, the rear ladder slowly went down, the hydraulics screamed, unable to force the snow through to the full opening.

Stepping over a mechanic's body torn by a load, Yusuf went into the cockpit. The commander's glasses were filled with blood from the inside, his tongue sticking out to the outside, bitten down almost completely, blood flowed from his nose. When hitting the ground, the cervical vertebrae broke through the base of the skull, squeezing the tongue and eyes out of the sockets with a monstrous water hammer. The co-pilot was still alive, he whispered something and tried to move his arm broken in several places. Looking closely, Yusuf realized that he was trying to be baptized.

“Go to your gods and tell them to reason with you,” said Yusuf and, taking the pilot’s hand, crossed him with an Orthodox sign, without even knowing what blasphemy from the point of view of the Catholic he allowed.

“Did they land in the field?” - unable to normally perceive the fixed elevation of an airplane five kilometers from the base, the colonel asked.

“I suppose, sir, they fell,” the liaison officer said carefully, and immediately rushed to grab the pistol from Wright’s hands. He would not have had time to save the colonel, but the fuse did not allow him to pull the hook.

The colonel sat, capriciously clenched his lips, inside he felt like a little boy who was unjustly punished and deprived of his favorite toys. He was given a sedative and carried to bed.

Abraham called the headquarters, where they confirmed the loss of communication with the crew and ordered to send the group to inspect the site of the fall, to evacuate the pilots and the cargo. Especially noted that the secret communication equipment must be dismantled or destroyed.

“The last message was unintelligible, it seemed to us that they spoke Arabic or Farsi,” the communications signaling staff reported in secret, “there are still some sounds there.”

Abraham clicked on the colonel's tablet Urgent Call Libowski. He jumped out of the latrine and, buttoning his pants as he went, flew into the tent:

- I'm listening, sir! - He turned to the lying colonel.

“I summoned you, sergeant!” - hissed Abraham. - Collect the 25 man, leave all the excess, take the 5 rifles, in 30 minutes you will be given the last meal that we have and move to this point. Abraham poked the stationary mark on the colonel's tablet. Libowski noted a point on his tablet, listened to the task and left.

An hour later, the group advanced. Lubovski was in a hurry, in a few hours it was supposed to get dark, but he did not want to stay in the forest in a forty-degree frost with a crowd of unreliable, demoralized soldiers.

Yusuf pushed the surviving snowmobile, two sleds that were linked by train, and loaded the fuel into the sledge, a generator, a furnace, an arctic tent, 4 rifles, zinc ammunition, three winter sets of clothes and sleeping bags, hiking gear, metal boxes with rations. With the words "May the Almighty forgive me!" He unscrewed the stopper of the can of alcohol and took a big sip, immediately started to burn the mouth with snow.

Move off failed. The new Polaris raked snow from under the tracks and hung on the steps. Yusuf unhooked the sleigh, dug out and moved the snowmobile. Having picked up some sleighs, he rolled them over a hill and, putting on a slope, returned for the latter. Clutching the entire train, it was not without difficulty that I started moving, picked up speed and moved east. Having driven off a couple of kilometers, he stopped, threw off the halyard from the sleigh and, turning around in a large circle, sent the snowmobile along its own track back. Not all things were done. At night, he promised Rashid, his children and grandchildren, his fellow villagers, the little one and the bony, that he would avenge them.

When the old mullah Isa was sick and could not lead a sermon, Yusuf replaced him with the permission of the senior mullah in Bugulma, therefore Yusuf considered that after Isa’s death he replaces him. Having broken off a branch, he wrote a fatwa on jihad in Arabic script on the snow, sitting on his knees on a snowmobile seat, said a prayer.

Having opened a box with grenades and having torn off a plait of wires, I mined the plane and approaches with extensions so that one grenade, having exploded, undermined the next. Something, and Major Wright very well taught him to mine in the distant 2013 year ...

Libowski stopped at the edge of the field to wait for people walking without snowshoes.

Exhausted by the cold and walking in deep snow, the soldiers fell into a snowdrift.

The plane was lying three hundred meters, it was clearly visible on the tablet, but visually Libowski could not find it. Peering in the direction of the place of fall, Libowski noticed some movement and a barely discernible sound of the engine, quickly moving away from the forest belt.

Binoculars were defrosted for a few seconds. Through the fog, Liebowski saw the silhouette of the tail rudders, covered with snow. He reported to the base: "The plane was found, there was no fire, the fuselage was intact." At this point, the rest of the group pulled up.

Not realizing that he was making an unforgivable mistake, Libowski showed the direction of the plane with his hand and said:

- 300 meters behind a forest belt.

The soldiers rushed like mad, throwing weapon and trampling the sergeant into the snow. Observing this picture through the monitor Liebovsky, the colonel shouted into the microphone:

- Stop them, sergeant !!

To shout Libowski and the queue in the air only 9 people stopped, the rest continued to run towards the increasingly clearly visible aircraft. Limping, the sergeant approached the soldiers who had fulfilled his order, ordered him to pick up a weapon and moved to the forest belt.

Private O'Neill, who was the first to flee, managed to get through the stretch marks to the aircraft and disrupt the check already inside the fuselage.

After lying in the 40 for minutes in the snow, Libowski waited until nothing more exploded, and allowed the soldiers to come closer to warm themselves next to the giant bonfire that the plane had turned into. The smell of burnt meat, burnt plastic, rubber, wood and God knows what else squeezed the lungs, preventing you from breathing properly.

Colonel Wright, who had not yet fully recovered from all the shocks, nevertheless straightened his clothes, buttoned up all the buttons and asked in a clear, commanding voice, devoid of any emotions and intonations:

- Sergeant, who of those who did not fulfill your order survived?

- Five, sir, two of them injured.

- I order you to shoot them.

All the colonels who were in the tent jumped up and surrounded the commander.

- Colonel, are you out of your mind? This is a violation of the statute and the Military Code! Without the judgment of the Tribunal this is unacceptable !!

Not paying attention to those present, the colonel repeated:

- Shoot !!

“I cannot do this without a written order, sorry, sir,” after a long pause, Libowski squeezed out of himself.

“Speak the names,” the colonel answered, and typing an order on the tablet, sent it to the Libovsky tablet.

“Howard,” the colonel addressed the signalman and the translator, “take the trouble to send out the order and the video of the performance to all the monitors of the brigade.”

- I'm listening, sir.

After 10 minutes there was a deathly silence in the brigade's location, the soldiers were praying, someone was crying softly, hiding from the looks of his comrades.

Before dark, no more than an hour and a half remained. The source handed out the first liters of diesel from a black Russian tank. The burnt-out kitchen was no longer needed, there was nothing to cook from; on a large fire, the cook boiled snow and gave boiling water to everyone. The soldiers burned bonfires right in the tents in order to somehow warm themselves.

“To die or run,” the colonel repeated his thoughts in a whisper. - To die or run ...

- Did you say something, sir? - Howard asked.

- Yes! - Colonel stood at attention.

- Sergeant!

- Yes, sir, you are a real soldier, the homeland is proud of you.

- Thank you, sir, my heart and life belong to my country!

- Libowski, a wounded Russian tank stands two kilometers from you, inspect it and try to start the engine. I will send you to help technicians with welding and fuel canister.

- Abraham, prepare the base for evacuation!

- Sir, this is a violation of the order! I am forced to report this to headquarters!

- Prepare the base for evacuation, store all property, except weapons, in marching order. I hope no more need to be repeated. A written order will be received in two minutes. Run! - the colonel barked at the quartermaster.

- Howard, I charge you to lead a group of 20 people. Your task is to make scraps for transporting the wounded and sick. By morning, everything should be ready!

- Yes, sir!

At five in the morning, tired and exhausted, Libowski requested permission from the colonel to enter the tent.

- Sir, the tank was brought in, the caterpillar was shortened to one roller and put in place, the gun had to be cut off, it was turned on its side and did not allow to go normally, it caught the poles and trees. In Arlan, we found a blown Komatsu and welded a knife from it to the tank. It will have to digest a little higher, the technicians are doing this now, but we ran out of fuel.

- Son! - Colonel touched. “How glad I am to see you and to hear your words.”

The colonel embraced Libowski, who, being deprived of sentimentality, stood, stretched out into the string, and did not react to the veal tenderness of the commander.

- Abraham! Give Sergeant Libowski the entire stock of diesel fuel.

By dawn, in the morning 9-30, the wounded and sick were immersed in huge 12-meter-scraps and covered with tents. All soldiers were given several meters of rope from the tents to be able to tie themselves to a tank or logs. Nobody gave commands, everything happened in complete silence, only the crunch of snow echoing in the frosty air could be heard.

Periodically taking to the left and aligning, a tank drove up to the base in a zigzag, pushing with a knife in front of him an almost meter-high layer of snow. Soldiers stuck to the stern, trying to warm up at the exhaust pipe and engine compartment. Hooking up the cable with a cable, letting 5 become attached to the remaining minutes, the tank jerked from its place and slowly drove along the road barely visible under the meter layer of snow. Libowski almost froze his face, looking out of the hatch of the driver over the snow shaft. I had to climb inside. Broken triplex frost, there was neither time nor energy to replace it. Because of the different lengths of the tracks, the tank was constantly turned to the left, and it had to be leveled all the time. Putting in front of him a tactical tablet, Abraham, having increased the maximum scale, without looking up, followed the navigation marker and gave the commands:

- Right, 1,5, right, right, 1. - Libowski led the tank blindly. No one paid any attention to the fallen, who were dragged by a rope. The snow hid under the clothes, the rope squeezed the chest. When the strangled, suffocating fighter stopped agonizing, the 2-3 soldier sat on top of him and rode like a sled, unable to move his legs any more in unison with the speed of the tank. Three hours later, no one went under its own power, the living went astride the dead.

Corporal Roberts and Private Monelli played cards while sitting in an infantry fighting vehicle set up on patrol on a snow-covered secondary road on the eastern outskirts of Bugulma. Sergeant Kroyst was dozing on the commander’s chair. Inside, it smacked of exhaust gases, the engine rumbled smoothly, giving enough heat to heat the cabin.

- Hey, you nigga! What the hell are you cheating?

- You yourself are a crook, you, macaroni, are born crooks !!

- What? .. Whoever said you don’t have to establish paternity, none of you knows which mother gave birth to him, live in flocks in the trees, who only cuts off your tails, or do you bite them when there’s nothing to eat?

The quarrel was moving towards a fight, like a buzzer of a radar buzzed in the headphones.

- To fight !! - Croyst commanded while still in his dream and, barely opening his eyes, he buried himself in the monitor of the onboard computer. The corporal and the private rushed to their places. The radar, having issued a scan of the detected mobile subject to the identification block, subsided. The computer has hung for some time, making billions of calculations in its electronic brain.

- What the hell! Croix whispered, looking at the mountain of snow that was slowly approaching them through a night-vision device.

- Starboard to the battle, turn on tracking!

Bulbs blinked, sounds of servo drives and hydraulics were heard on the right, a green “Start” square appeared on the screen.

- What the hell! - Croyst stuck in indecision and hit the monitor case with his fist. After a moment, an unusually long line was displayed on the monitor: “A modernized bulldozer of unknown brand with a turret mounted on top of a T-105 tank with a shortened cannon of unknown design, identity is 58%, the object being towed is wood.”

- What the hell is that !! - Croyst lost patience and asked the tactical center to give a situational map of his square. The map lit up in the dusk of the cockpit hundreds of marks of coalition soldiers seven hundred meters from the BMP, unloaded like herring in a barrel around and next to an unidentified bulldozer, on 58% resembling a Russian T-105.

The object stopped and stopped, remaining invisible behind a mountain of snow, the thermal plume from the engine lit the screen of the thermal imager several times and disappeared.

“The fuel has run out, sir,” Libowski reported. “Let me walk, we are on the outskirts of Bugulma, the BMP watch stands in front, no matter how they sway through us.”

- At ease, Sergeant, you can sit down. - General Hollyfeld sat on the edge of the bed and put his hand on the colonel's shoulder.

- unimportant newsHenry, your brigade is disbanded, judging by the report of the military prosecutor's office, you are facing a tribunal. Much will depend on what your subordinates say about the execution of five soldiers during interrogations, although violations of the order and the statute will last for 20. Of the 280-ti people who were placed on guard of the district in November, 106 returned alive, the property was completely lost, three were found to be fit for operation.

- Who is the third?

- Abraham.

“Yeah, I always knew that this old Jew would get out in any situation.”

“I admit that it may not reach the tribunal, Henry, to all appearances, we will soon have to drape from here, twisting the horns on our backs.” We have forgotten how to fight without aircraft carriers, armada of airplanes, all these electronic things that have become debris in a flash, and most importantly - without warm toilets. The Russians again deceived us, God only knows in which dump they dug these mixed-scale relics of rocket technology and how they were able to equip them, but last night for three hours they smashed all port complexes from Newfoundland to the Panama Canal on both sides of the continent. These assholes at the State Department managed to accuse the Chinese of helping the Russians, and they closed the Pacific Basin in response. Now even those transports that were in transit are returning to Pearl Harbor. In Europe, even more fun. The Pskov grouping and the Kaliningrad national team - sailors, infantry, militiamen and militia - dispersed like a Brooklyn punks these gays and lesbians from the united European grouping in the Baltic States. The commander of the group of General Piedmont Pskov saboteurs generally found pleasures with the adjutant. They both had NATO standards inserted in the ass and were thrown from the third floor of the Veliton Old Riga Palace. They say the spectacle was enchanting. Now the European Union accuses us: we supposedly set them up. Turks withdraw troops to the south. So soon all our units in Russia will find themselves in the same position as you in Arlan. And last, Colonel, I bow to your courage. Farewell.

Leading the general to gaze, Libowski sat down on a stool and moved closer to the colonel.

“Sir, I think I know who made the plane crash and the meat grinder after.”

- Well, tell the same.

- Here. - Libowski pulled out the jawbone of an animal from its pouch.

- What is it, sergeant?

“This is a mutton's jaw, sir, I found it not far from the plane tied to a stick that was sticking out of a snowdrift, something was written in the snow near the snow, it blew up ashes in the grooves and it looked frightening.

- You want to say that we underestimated this old Russian man?

- He is not Russian, sir.

- They are all Russian! And we underestimated them all! Abraham was bloody right: you can't burn books!

In early April, going around the thawed patches, where it was possible, the sleigh train from the US Army snowmobile and two sleds was moving around Enaktaevo.

In addition to luggage, women, children and two elderly men sat in the sleigh. Behind the wheel sat a long time not shaved and overgrown old man in the Arctic overalls. He stopped not far from the forest belt next to a large thawed patch on which traces of a strong fire were scattered. It was clear that a lot of people and cars were taken from here scrap metal. A stick with a piece of twine stuck out next to the thawed patch in the snow, and a fatwa was written on the thawed patch itself.

The old man, with difficulty, threw his leg over the seat, rubbed the inscription with his army artic boot, mixing it with melted snow, last year’s foliage and earth.

- Praise be to Allah! It's all over! It's only the beginning!

Turning east, he sat down on his knees and prayed.

The people in the sleigh were baptized, making obeisances after each sign.

On the other side of the field, four soldiers, dirty swearing, plowed through the frozen ground to slip crane rods under the cut off barrel of a tank gun, and at some distance the crane operator tried to discourage the young driver from the abnormal bitch who had seized him in the ass when trying to catch two sheep-teens who were tweaking pine branches on the edge of the ravine.
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  1. philip
    philip 12 February 2014 08: 10
    I don’t know what kind of essay begemot wrote, but what gentle almost watercolor tones. Even 300 years after THAT, there’s no need to talk about anything, everything will be much worse. If at all.
  2. arane
    arane 12 February 2014 08: 24
    Yes, everything can be much worse, but if something similar is ahead of us, then let this article become a prophecy!
    1. philip
      philip 12 February 2014 22: 27
      I agree, let it be a prophecy. Whoever comes to us with a sword will die by the sword.
  3. Prometey
    Prometey 12 February 2014 08: 51
    The author is a plus for his work, but ... How did the American troops end up in Bashkiria - teleported? Or again a blitzkrieg with slipping in the winter?
  4. Baron Wrangell
    Baron Wrangell 12 February 2014 09: 03
    Quote: Prometey
    The author is a plus for his work, but ... How did the American troops end up in Bashkiria - teleported? Or again a blitzkrieg with slipping in the winter?

    on the border of Bashkiria and Udmurtia! all the places are familiar!
    1. gfs84
      gfs84 April 2 2014 20: 52
      And not only Bashkiria and Udmurtia, I understand the rate in Bugulma, but this is the southeast of Tatarstan ...
      I live in Bugulma myself))) And consider this at the junction of Tatarstan, Bashkiria, the Orenburg region and the Samara region ...

      Corporal Roberts and Private Monelli played cards, sitting in a BMP, which was put on watch on a snow-covered secondary road on the eastern outskirts of Bugulma.

      Here in the east, only the R-239 "Kazan-Orenburg" goes to the intersection with the M-5 "Ural", and in the described scenario, they had to move from the north-north-west in terms of the M-7 "Russia" from the Aznakaevo side. ..

      But this is so nitpicking in the area)))
  5. buzer
    buzer 12 February 2014 12: 40
    the author of this article signed under the pseudonym "Begemot", but in style resembles "Marauder" Atomi al-Berkemi ...
    1. arane
      arane 12 February 2014 13: 51
      Yes, exactly, very similar
      1. Begemot
        12 February 2014 15: 06
        Unfortunately, I can not argue, I confess, I have not read either the Marauder or other books by this author.
      2. The comment was deleted.
    2. bairat
      bairat 13 February 2014 07: 51
      Quote: buzer
      the author of this article signed under the pseudonym "Begemot", but in style resembles "Marauder" Atomi al-Berkemi ...

      And the places are described almost the same, the Urals.
  6. Vitaly Anisimov
    Vitaly Anisimov 12 February 2014 15: 16
    I liked very much ..! Vividly and figuratively everything is described pictures and sensations are still before my eyes .. I would like to continue.
  7. Aleks tv
    Aleks tv 12 February 2014 15: 55
    I really liked the story.
    The author simply captures the description ... it is not so simple.
    Respect !!!

    Of course, the trouble inside is that the events on OUR EARTH are described ... I hope that this will NEVER or will NOT be WORSE than described by the author.

    We won’t go to seize ... we don’t have this in our blood, but we may have to fight back ...

    Thanks again to the author for ... the skill of the "military theme" pen.
    Photo to the article:
    1. Alex 241
      Alex 241 12 February 2014 16: 04
      Lesh greetings. Here's a link: Vladimir Mikhailov "Keeper to my brother", read my favorite book from the days of cadets.
      1. Aleks tv
        Aleks tv 12 February 2014 16: 12
        Quote: Alex 241
        Hello Lesh. Here's a link to you: Vladimir Mikhailov

        Hi Sanya!

        Noticed. The other day I read, thanks!
      2. Hort
        Hort 21 February 2014 11: 18
        although the link is addressed to another person, I cannot but thank! The book is super! I read it in two days (I had "days of idleness" at work) good

        And that’s why I love good science fiction, that immediately the thought begins to work — how would I act, how could the plot develop, etc.
    2. philip
      philip 12 February 2014 22: 34
      photo in the subject.
  8. Duke
    Duke 13 February 2014 01: 02
    Thank you! Respect and respect.
  9. andr327
    andr327 16 February 2014 16: 51
    and by the way about the cleverness of technology in the next war: the equipment will fight for two or three days, and then the three-ruler - the queen
  10. Begemot
    18 February 2014 09: 54
    Guys, thanks for the good grades, I'm glad someone liked it.
    There will be time, I will write something to continue or develop the topic.
    Good luck to everyone!
  11. Celmz
    Celmz 20 March 2014 17: 47
    I liked it a lot, thank you.