I noticed a lot of people long ago. And they are all different. This is probably because everyone is meant for something specific. If a pianist is given a sledgehammer in his hands, then we will get a pianist with a hernia and a bruised foot. Having forced the hammerman to play the piano, we will replenish stocks of polished wood chips. I do not know who established such a division, but he didn’t think of one thing: it’s necessary for a person to at least somehow explain what he can do in life, and what is by no means impossible. For security. Not yours. Surrounding.
It was from such a category of those uninformed about their own purpose that a freshly baked, tasty-smelling lieutenant of the technical service of the USSR Air Forces Seryozha came out.
The time was hard. Five aviation technical schools of the Soviet Union produced thousands of aviation specialists each year, and they still lacked. Five thousand people seemed to dissolve in the grandiose air armies of the grandiose armed forces of a grandiose country. Therefore, in technical schools people were accepted, sometimes turning a blind eye to the inconsistency of the candidate of the chosen profession. The training system in these schools made any discrepancy correspond.
But only in Seryozha there was such a primordial, deep and even mystical discrepancy that the Soviet system of personnel training issued Seryozha a blue diploma "mechanical technician for the operation of aircraft and aviation engines "only shyly turning away. The system, probably, in the depths of its soul, understood that it was impossible for Seryozha to be allowed near the aircraft. Then it turned out that it was impossible to use any technique either. But it was too late. It is done. The regiment received a replenishment in the person of Lieutenant Seryozha.
Why just Sergei? Yes, because his name was constantly forgotten. Well, how was it possible to remember the name of a person resembling a cheerful, kind, awkwardly jumping puppy with dangling ears and spreading thick legs? A kind of universal friend: from a Kirgiz fueling tanker to a regiment commander. He was so called down: “Lieutenant Seryozha, take two steps.”
Oddities began immediately, as soon as the ritual of awarding the lieutenants of the aircraft. The entire engineering staff was solemnly built. Before the formation there were four fast-moving handsome MiG-21 SMTs. Presentation of forms, heart-felt words, clumsy parting words from behind-the-way, old-fashioned, tongue-tied old techies with pauses instead of mate, a fiery speech of the political officer: “By fulfilling solutions! Let's translate into life! Following the precepts! The imperialists are outraged, and yet not all have notes from primary sources! We continue! Stop stealing alcohol! NATO aggressive block! Komsomol members drink vodka in jeans! ”The glow of an ideologically correct, but illiterate speech by a political worker was shot down by a perplexing cry of Lieutenant Seryozha:“ And I have a flat tire from the bottom ”. Zapolit choked and fell silent. Everyone looked at Seryozha. He had no wheels below. The most shrewd turned their heads to the aircraft. Three lighthouses as proudly strove into the sky and only the plane, just attached to Serezha, stood with a lowered right pneumatics, like a black crow: sad and dull. Everybody was struck by the accuracy of Seryozhiny description. Indeed, the tire of the right main rack was lying flat on the concrete with its lower part. And on top, nothing else. Round and completely inflated.
And they say that the piece of iron does not feel anything. These people are rude and heartless, but the creation of a human genius immediately realized that he was threatened in the future and had been exhausted in advance.
Airplane as the water looked. Sergei broke everything that could. What could not break in principle, spit on the principles and also broke. At the same time, Seryozha did not even need to put his hand. There was enough of one of his eyes and thoughts in his head: "We need to repair it." The victim of a potential repair immediately capitulated and self-destructed.
People in aviation think quickly. Everyone instantly realized that an eminent person modestly walking among them, who was worthy of acknowledging his originality, began to blame all the faults and personal shoals. A month later, even the commander of the airfield-technical support battalion quite seriously argued that the I-beam in the hangar was bent, because Sergei passed by. Therefore, BATO is not guilty and will not be engaged in repairs. Better Sergei goes back and forth, the beam of fear and straightens up.
The heaviest share fell to the head of the TEC, Semyonych. Semyonych still hooked the edge of the war. He Yak-3 samurai ammunition ammunition. He is 30 years in aviation. He could not part with her. He loved her. Until Seryozha came to his link. And seasoned by all that is possible, the experienced Semenych only at the end of the service realized that the war with the samurai was one of the most cloudless periods of his life, because there the enemy could be defeated, and Seryozh could not be defeated. Samurai compared with Seryozha - appendix slack. A samurai cannot bend with I-beams. Wimp he samurai this. And the seasoned Semenych broke. He lebezil before Seryozha, asking him not to approach the plane, and personally, with his hardened hands, prepared his airplane for departure.
It seemed that in this way, Seryozhin managed to counterbalance the irrepressible energy. It turned out that it seemed. He had this energy bubbling, gurgling and looking for a way out. And the way out was found. Once pushed away from the iron components of the aircraft, the blow fell on the electronic equipment. Gradually. That is, not immediately. In a sense, indirectly. Okolno. By washing the aircraft when transferring to winter operation. The knowledgeable people will grin knowingly: clearly, they poured everything with water, and that is what they short-circuited. Right now! Seryozha not the caliber. Such a person will not wash the plane. He will paint it. Together with rust and dirt. Especially carefully dirt. The painted mud is very aesthetic. Here are just a cone, under which the sighting system was hidden and other antennas scattered here and there on the glider with a weathered radio-transparent coating, violated artistic harmony. I had to paint them too. Well, that green paint on the airfield is full. She painted the wheels of tankers. Beautifully turned out! For some reason, only the plane was plaintively mowing down with a landing light and sobbing softly.
Then came the radio operators. Sergei was treated with a cigarette (he never had one) and climbed to check his electronics. Serozha smoked and proudly admired the fresh paint cast in a metallic sheen. Radio operators checked everything. Nothing works. They were surprised. Once again checked. Once again, surprised. Got out, lit a cigarette and began to curse. Crazy and started changing blocks. Cursing, of course. On the second day, the blocks ran out, and swear words began to repeat. On the third day, the most important radio operator came, looked at the battle panorama and tenderly asked: “Seryozha, you have a hard rope in your ass, have you painted what antenna paint?”. Sergey honestly replied: "Green." And just in case, he shoved the rope away with his foot, which was beside the way. They didn’t beat him with the equipment. Penalds and cuffs are not considered. Just in the form of punishment, they told me to drag a mobile test complex out of TECH, showed where to connect the plug connector and, tiredly swearing, went to flip through clever circuits, simultaneously inventing fresh abusive epithets for Seryozha. They thought that nothing more could happen. And what can happen? After all, on the SR there is an anti-duct device in the form of two pins of different diameter. And in the mate two holes are also different, but the diameter corresponding to the pins. It is impossible to connect it wrong, naive radio operators thought.
But against a real fool, any anti-cracking device is like a carpenter against a carpenter. When Seryozha discovered that SR did not fit into place, he made eight control stickings with a gradual increase in effort, then, raising from the depths of his memory all the knowledge gained in the school, he added to them poor analytical skills and found that (quotation) “the pin is thick and the hole is thin. " "So that's why it does not climb!" - It dawned on a certified technician. Turning SRs to 180 degrees is a boring decision. And Seryozha, cheerfully unscrewing the guide pin, which is thicker, joyfully jumps, rushed to grind it to the desired diameter, grabbing a pin of smaller diameter for the sample.
I will not describe further, because here talent is needed. Of course, I could enumerate verbal revolutions, zoophilic analogies, tips on the unconventional use of various subjects, a description of erotic routes and final destinations, but this is prohibited by law. The main thing, Seryozha remained alive. Although not quite understood, because of what was all this fuss. True, it stopped bubbling and gurgling for a while.
Trouble came from no waiting. In my opinion, not quite the right expression. In the army, trouble always awaits from one place. From the superior headquarters. This time, the trouble took the form of an Air Force inspector for flight training. The trouble had a rank of the general and corresponding corporal proportions. She was terrified. And this is logical. If you do not terrify, what kind of general are you? All Soviet generals were terrified. Everybody. Adversary, of course, this effect paralyzes, and our military nothing. They are familiar. They are subjected to such exposure monthly for psychological stability. They have an on-site application of the corn armor five-centimeter. And the generals have a nose. He's the scent. The general sniffed, smelled and ordered to prepare him for the flight "this is the board." Here even our armored military paralyzed. The plane was Seryozhin.
For the flight the plane was preparing everything. Those who were not involved in the preparation, they drove away Seryozh, who beat the hoof, whined and also wanted to participate. The commander recalled ways to survive in the distant garrisons, and, just in case, he learned to work with a hair dryer. Zampolit frantically flipped through the decisions of the party congresses in search of guidance. Not finding those, I went to the plane and, looking around fearfully, finely baptized the smoked nozzle. Semyonych with samurai serenity sharpened the rasp for hara-kiri.
Flying. General in the air. At the airfield from the impending voltage some kind of strange suffocated silence. Everything seems to sound like a gas mask on the soundmaker pulled. Rattling and whistling engines usually now emit some kind of buzz. Paints faded. MiGs on taxiing make their way sideways, carefully picking up the landing gear. On the pig concrete is the command of the regiment. (This is such a construction method, not an appearance.) Everyone is looking at the end of the strip. The commander has a courage on his face to accept the inevitable. Deputy on ias smiles calmly. He took the inevitable in the morning.
Landing. Voltage thickened, condensed and began to drip. Sat down! The parachute came out !! Rulit !!!
Everything immediately came to life and sounded. Colors and smells exploded, even the equipment became more cheerful or, as the correspondent of one garrison newspaper wrote, “the airplanes, rattling and bouncing, rolled along the runway”. Zapolit, in joy, kissed the whole country of Brezhnev's book, Tselina, and, like an honest communist, promised to marry her. Semyonych threw away the rasp hoisted over his belly, grabbed the folding ladder in good style and quickly drove it to the cabin. The general climbed out and stopped at the top of the stairs. His face was contented. He smiled favorably and looked in a fatherly way at everyone from above. Downstairs, glee reigned. Smiles, pats, wiping sweaty bald spots. In this euphoria, no one noticed how Seryozha found himself near the stepladder with an aircraft training magazine in his hands. Seryozha happily smiled and barked in all his might: “Comrade general !!! Allow me to receive comments !!!!!
The inspector shuddered, overwhelmed by a sudden acoustic shock. The ladder startled, stunned by the startled general, dropped the stopper fixing its half, and broke up into two parts. The general hung slightly in the air, offended and reproachfully staring at the standstill crowd, and with all his bodily proportions, with a chomp, fell onto the concrete.
Now it has finally become clear that it is impossible to cope with this dark force. It was rumored that the deputy. the commander of the regiment on the IAS tried to sell Seryozha to the political officer for a canister of alcohol on the subject to drive Komsomol, or anything else he needed, but even the fearless commissar shoved his legs and spit saliva, just to prevent Serezha from seeing the saint. He could not risk ideology and worldview. Although, he would have been a political commander, he would have taken Seryozha for party work. Now there would be no doubt who was to blame for the fact that the state suddenly collapsed, and communism was never built. True, I later lost traces of Sergei. Maybe fate threw him into the leadership of the country, and he reached the heights of his talent there? Isn’t he leading the country in the middle of the glorious 80's? Painfully handwriting similar. Although unlikely. Seryozha could go bald over the past years, but he definitely had no blemishes on his head. He was not. Exactly the same, but not him. That kind of Mishan was. But the same.