Military Review

Duel on a festive evening

13
Duel on a festive evening



This история It seems funny to me now. But at that moment, she didn’t seem funny at all ... Everyone knows the words of the president that he said at one time that we’ll моч drench the terrorists ’if we ука catch them’. This expression is now often used by many - when the place, and when not. But it was said in relation to the terrorists, Chechen militants in particular. And it turned out that "I was almost wetted in the toilet". And laughter and sin. Although what kind of laughter is there ...

QUIET YARD. FOOTBALL TALK. "GALYUN"

This happened on the evening of 9 May. Victory Day passed without any worries and troubles, it was late evening. Management officers gathered for an evening smoke break behind the headquarters building, where there was a cozy courtyard, located away from the eyes of the authorities. Our favorite place for smoking and talking. It was possible to get there through the rear entrance to the headquarters. And there were objects that were not taken to be located in prominent places.

Immediately near the exit from the building was the entrance to the trench leading to the firing positions. The trench is deep, it is overlapped with overrun logs and covered with earth, therefore it looked like an underground passage. Next to her was a firing position, composed of sandbags. Next was the summer shower: a large wooden box placed on a concrete ring, on top - a two-liter barrel of water. To the right was the rabbitry - a three-section box made of planks and covered with slate on top. Three pairs of rabbits lived in it. Nobody even thought of sending them to the cauldron; I just liked to watch these harmless and gullible animals. And to the right of the rabbitcher, about four meters away, the most important object was located - the toilet. For some reason we called him a “latrine” in the navy. Behind all these structures, a camouflage net was hung on the steel cable, only at chest level. Why she hung there so badly, for what purpose - it is not clear. There was no benefit from it. And what a "nerd" hung it there?

The entire territory of the unit was surrounded by two rows of pillars with barbed wire. From the back of the headquarters, and accordingly our beloved courtyard, they were about fifty meters away. Behind the barbed wire lay a street, on the opposite side of which were the residential yards of the Chechens.

There, on the other side of the street, directly opposite the headquarters, about seventy meters away, was a large unfinished house. Only the walls and floors, the roof was not. We understood perfectly well that for the firing of our territory there was no better firing position than this building. But they couldn't do anything about it.

I must say that a part was located on the site of the old large Chechen state farm, where there were several buildings with a sufficient number of premises. Therefore, there were enough office rooms and living rooms, and everything was located quite comfortably. But the whole territory of the unit was well viewed and freely swept from any adjacent street and from any direction. This sometimes led to serious trouble. During shelling, which happened often, we suffered losses.

On this festive evening, people crowded behind the headquarters - they smoked, loudly talked and laughed. In the "latrine" all the cabins, and there were three of them, were constantly occupied. Some visitors were replaced by others. Having completed all the work, the "public" gradually wandered into their rooms. The yard was empty. I waited, I had nowhere to hurry. It was also necessary to go through all the barracks premises and check the performance of the service with an internal outfit. It was my turn. The moment came when I was alone. With a cigarette in his mouth, shod in slippers and with a pistol on his belt, without haste, he went to the toilet. I went into the booth, made it there, that was necessary, stood, finishing a cigarette. Then he left it, let's say, a cozy room and slowly moved back. He walked a few steps, half a meter to the rabbitcher ...

The thunder, the chime and ... melting instants of life

In war, danger always stands behind your back and you constantly feel its heavy breathing. Suddenly she, instantly approaching, comes close to you. As always, unexpectedly. Therefore, you are not ready for it, you are confused and defenseless. And only chance saves you then. And then, when it was all over, you light a cigarette with a trembling hand and wonder why you are still alive. And you can not immediately figure out how lucky you are this time.

I still can not understand why I stopped at that moment? Just a moment, how it all began. It was not going to do that. As if someone had detained me. That is what saved. After all, if I take another step, that's all ...



Suddenly I saw that fist-sized holes began to appear on the slate that covered the rabbitry. And the slate sheets themselves began to roar and bounce, and all this happened right before my eyes. The camouflage net that hung behind the rabbitry began to twitch, as if someone had invisible tore and tattered it. Then I realized - it was her bullet holes. On the face it hurt slate crumb. On the left, I heard dull bullets hitting a brick wall and the sound of broken glass. And only then, from somewhere to the right, it seemed - from a distance, came the sound of a long automatic burst. Not at all loud. Frequent clicks, as if someone is throwing small gravel on handfuls of stones.

Still not quite understanding what was going on, he instantly flattened himself under the rabbit. The bullets continued to rumble across the slate and, with a bang, flashing a plank wall, flew over me a few centimeters. I had small chips and wood dust. The feeling that the heart has stopped from fear. Thoughts rushed at a furious pace, the moments melted, but the correct solution was not found.

Bullet strikes on the slate stopped. Apparently, the militants in the store ran out of ammo. It became a little easier, self-control began to return to me. I had to leave. And why did he hesitate?

And suddenly it began again. It seems that this Chechen had time to change the store and decided not to let me out alive. Now he hit with frequent single shots, constantly changing the aiming point. Knowing that I could not leave and was somewhere here, he, sweeping the rabbitry in different places, groped me. I had a moment to live. It was scary and sad.

And I SAW HIS BLACK SILHOUVER OVER A WALL ...



Later, in a relaxed atmosphere, when the opportunity arose to analyze and think about what had happened, it dawned on me how experienced, prepared and dangerous my opponent turned out to be. He did everything absolutely right from the start. Having opened fire, he took a lead on the movement of the target, not assuming that I would stop for some reason. But I myself could not even imagine this, and now I don’t know why I’ve stopped. Only thanks to this his first turn passed in front of me. And then he very skillfully began to “pick out” me from under the rabbitry by shots.

At that moment, my “glorious battle biography” was on its way to completion. The exit prompted despair. Overcoming fear, I leaned forward a bit and looked out from behind the rabbit. And I saw him. Against the dark blue sky - a black wall of an unfinished house. And above the wall - he, his silhouette. Only the head and shoulders are visible. And an unforgettable, chilling sight: flashes of shots fired at you.

Quickly removed from the PM holster. He was always ready to fire with me: the cartridge in the barrel was removed from the fuse. He pulled the trigger, put it on the black silhouette and began to shoot. What was there to aim! But the shots stopped for me, he apparently lost his head, did not expect to get back fire. And he could not know that he was being answered only from Makarov. Continuing to shoot, I quickly jumped up and rushed to the headquarters. The door of the rear entrance was open - this is a chance. Before rescue just over ten meters. Rather!

Fuck me these slippers?

The gun stopped firing. Hurting against the open iron door of the entrance, I flew into the corridor. The heart was torn from the chest. He looked at the gun: the bolt stopped in the rear rollback position. Poorly thinking at that moment, I didn’t even understand that the cartridges had run out, but immediately thought: “The gun broke, the shutter jammed. That's inappropriate! ”Recharging his mind was no longer enough, although there was a spare store. Interest in the gun, since he was already "broken", immediately disappeared. He remained unloaded in my hand. I looked at my feet - it turns out that I am barefoot, I have lost my slippers. And not understanding what I was doing, I rushed back to the rabbitry to save slippers!

Many of the acts that I did then began to seem strange and inexplicable to me. I could not understand why at that moment I did this and not otherwise. And all the more there is no certainty that they were all meaningful. As is the case with these slippers. Why did I need them then?

Bullet back, I immediately found them. Here they are, under the rabbit. But in a moment the thought pierced: “Are you in your mind? What are slippers? Rather back! ”And, turning sharply around, immediately forgetting about the sneakers, I rushed back. Whether I was shooting at this time, I can’t say for sure. Around all rumbled. Around was already fighting.

WINNING "POINTS"



He ran into the corridor and, jumping up the stairs through four steps, in a bad voice shouted: “Anxiety! To fight! ”But it was no longer required. Many were in their positions near the windows and loopholes and fired back. There was an unimaginable roar around, smelled caustic powder, and the floor was littered with spent cartridges. Understanding of reality began to return to me.

My room is far away, to the left along the corridor. I jump into it. Near the bed on the back of the chair hanging discharge vest with ammunition. Next to the bedside table, leaning against the wall, is my machine gun. Shop fastened. I throw a gun on the bed, grab a “unloading” from the back of the chair, put it on without buttoning it. I pick up the machine gun and run back, the cartridge in the chamber will be sent on the go.

According to the battle crew, I also have a place near the loopholes with my sector for observation and firing. But now I don’t remember about it, jumping down the stairs, running backwards. Need to complete the fight.

Before leaving the building for a moment. A deep breath - and through the doorway rushed out. Near the position, folded from the sandbags. I took it, it turned out very convenient. He pushed the machine gun into the loophole, made himself ready for shooting, but ... There was impenetrable darkness around. After the lighted room, I did not see anything, my eyes were not accustomed to the darkness. Then he began to shoot in that direction with frequent short bursts, knowing full well that most likely I would not get into anyone. But he could not stop. It was revenge for humiliation and fear. I hoped that I could make him experience the same thing that I had a chance to feel.

Very quickly released all seven stores. Automatic overheated - impossible to hold. I put it beside me, sat down on the ground in exhaustion, leaning my back against sandbags. Forces left me. The battle was still rattling around, but it didn't concern me anymore. Victory in this fight was mine, although the final score remained a draw. I won it on points. The enemy started the fight, having a big head start against me, but failed to take advantage of it. And from the very beginning I was in a hopelessly losing situation. But despite this, he was alive and even intact.

THANK YOU, BROTHER "MAKAROV"!

Further somehow blurred in memory. The battle soon ended. We had three wounded. They were assisted and prepared for evacuation. But there were no “heavy ones” among them, everyone could wait until the morning.

And for me there was a glass of vodka. He was very helpful. Then woke up a brutal appetite. In the closet I found a jar of sprat in tomato sauce, which we called “red fish”. He picked it up with a blunt table knife and without bread, only with one onion, smearing with sauce, ate it.
On the bed I saw my PM, I took it in hand, found out that he was fine. Replaced the magazine and pressed down the shutter lag button. The shutter with a click back to the front position, sending the cartridge into the barrel. Here it is, dear to the heart "toy", it is pleasant to hold in your hand. I was absolutely sure that it was he, Makarov, who saved me then and gave me a chance to find a way out of a hopeless, at first glance, situation.

SHOCK AFTER THE BATTLE

In the morning all the talk was only about yesterday's fight. Its participants shared their impressions. Each of them had their own “adventure”, which they wanted to tell about. I also talked about what happened to me. Already, it would seem, it was not scary, but even fun. Everyone laughed, then went to look at the place.

And there immediately got sick to laugh. The bunny rabbit was practically turned into chips. Of the six rabbits, only two remained alive. Poor animals, frightened to death, huddled in the corners among the dead carcasses. When I saw something like that, my hair began to move. But what about himself survived? I hid right under the rabbit!

... Someone patted me on the shoulder. Encouraged. Soothed. Apparently, I had a vidok then that ... But then the slippers were in place. In a sense, where he left, under the rabbit.

Impressed and more.

The back wall of the toilet, common to all three cabins, was riddled with bullets. It counted more than forty holes. To our greatest success, at the moment of the shelling of the “latrine” there was no one in it. Otherwise, who would survive in it? And after all this object was fired on purposefully, it seems that it is not from one trunk. Very high quality.

Then, armed with machine guns, we went to that unfinished house. His entire front wall is beaten with fresh bullet hits. They turned out a lot. My job. It turns out that he shot exactly where it should be.

We went upstairs and found several firing positions there. It means that not one “comrade” was, as it seemed to me at first, but three or four at least. And the sleeves of fresh shooting full. One so much with all the desire not to shoot. But we did not find any traces of the fact that I managed to get into one of them. Well, and it happens. They also did not hit me. It is quite possible to admit that when I started shooting, there was no one there anymore.

Judging by the stories, that fight was short, but difficult. We were fired from all directions. The density of enemy fire was so high that the bullets often flew into narrow loopholes. In one of the living rooms a bulb was broken by a bullet. But I learned about all this only now, after the battle. And at that moment he was fighting his own game, which took all my attention and all my strength.

For some reason, this case was especially vividly preserved in the memory, with all the smallest details, like no other. And this is despite the fact that during my service in Chechnya there were often far more tragic events.

P.S

And I came to the conclusion that a person in this world is not the master of his life. And the war - even more so. And he is not free to dispose of his own destiny, he is ordained to him from above, here are his laws. I remember how a long time ago a familiar old woman, a wise man, said to me: “We all walk under God. Everything is in the hands of the Most High, and only He alone decides whose time in this world has already passed. ”
The way it is. And my turn, it turns out, has not come yet.
Author:
Originator:
http://otvaga2004.ru
13 comments
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  1. Gray 43
    Gray 43 April 26 2014 09: 17
    +8
    Yes, the man has military happiness, still a split second, and that's it! There would be no one to write
  2. APASUS
    APASUS April 26 2014 09: 33
    +2
    Yes, there is such a thing, there is something to remember. And even if you take into account your own clubfoot, I remember the Uzbek threw a grenade into the trench ........... lucky tramp.
  3. Disant
    Disant April 26 2014 10: 18
    +6
    America is behind a deaf concrete fence with machine guns on duty, and we are behind a mask net, with a sprat and a bottle of vodka ... only she helps in difficult times, serves, so to speak, as a counterweight to the blockheads of the authorities and our laxity ... Where was during the unrestrained of a furious attack A sentry (guards, guards, outfits, checkpoints - call it whatever you like), which was the eyes of the commander (before, the ancestor), who dug a military unit in this place, where was the author himself - in another dimension? The masket, written off in the last millennium, near the latrine (its own, by the way, the bed turned out to be nearby), could have been corrected, and not smoked on a glasses on long dull evenings. In general, the Author, you are lucky, like the vast majority. Place another five such articles, and hordes of our enemies, frightened by our suicidal "maybe it will do it anyway" and some mother, will run in fright
  4. Leshka
    Leshka April 26 2014 11: 13
    +2
    cool story, probably a lot of such
  5. A1L9E4K9S
    A1L9E4K9S April 26 2014 11: 20
    +12
    The guardian angels are strong among the peasant, and the rest is our native Russian disorder.
  6. Chifka
    Chifka April 26 2014 12: 08
    +6
    About the same garbage was in Grozny (I'm talking about the location of the latrine in the backyard, with streamers and all that). But in my case, double basses were drunk (no offense to the contract soldiers, a real rabble was next to us), who were behind the fence, and began to shoot at night in everything that moves. And I just moved, went out for little need))) Grizzled gray hairs, but kept everything that he carried in himself! )))))))
  7. deman73
    deman73 April 26 2014 12: 15
    +4
    I need a chuyka in war without her
  8. padonok.71
    padonok.71 April 26 2014 12: 23
    +1
    And in which unit such a terrible battle happened? Judging by the description, those specialists also served there.
  9. IRBIS
    IRBIS April 26 2014 12: 51
    +8
    Quote: padonok.71
    Judging by the description, those specialists also served there.

    I agree. Interestingly, what prevented from stuffing the ruins of the house with all sorts of "funny" things that make all attempts to occupy firing positions in these ruins useless?
    At one time, I happened to take a position in a place that could be attacked from such skerries. Not being able to post posts there, we set up "surprises". That first night there was a roar!
    And on this particular occasion - the guy was lucky. Once again, luck compensated for the usual army indifference. Although, three wounded - this is already a big price for commanding illiteracy.
    1. Kassandra
      Kassandra April 29 2014 23: 11
      0
      or open the course there, and vice versa use,
      and in general it is better not to "settle" in such places.
  10. Lyton
    Lyton April 26 2014 13: 32
    +2
    Quote: A1L9E4K9S
    The guardian angels are strong among the peasant, and the rest is our native Russian disorder.

    Quote: A1L9E4K9S
    The guardian angels are strong among the peasant, and the rest is our native Russian disorder.

    This is true, a peasant can celebrate his second birthday on this day, but otherwise, as always, we catch up on what we lost while harnessing, a true story, which of us did not feel fear.
  11. Captain45
    Captain45 April 26 2014 14: 29
    +3
    Almost about me, on July 2 in the evening, comfortably settling down to dream and think about the eternal, my thoughts were interrupted by a sudden deafening rumble. The latrine was also at the back of the department, although there was a communication passage three meters away, which led to a small dugout. when it went bang, everything shook up in the pit, I flew out with a bullet, I looked, and the department and the yard were tightened with thick white dust, the thought was one p..ts, I dived into the dugout to look around, I had a PM and a spare store with me. The men kept laughing that it was me I drag myself around with the PM, like to have time to shoot myself, but I don't give a damn. PM is a personal weapon and is always with me. I caught my breath a little and then everything that could fire began, firing everything that could fire. Me to the door of the department, 50-60 meters in the open yard, I think I’ll sit out, I will look around in the dugout, especially behind the dugout, a thorn, MONK and most importantly the river, though not wide, but still, will not come right away. Then the firing subsided a little, the dust began to settle, I blew, like the hero of the story, barefoot, losing slippers, into the cockpit for what is more serious, and most importantly, not alone near the push, dumb as-t Then it turned out that the "Czechs" "Ural" were loaded with saltpeter and drove into the commandant's office, we were lucky that the entire charge did not work. with a bomb machine that day, besides ours, I was in two other departments, especially the Chelyabinsk residents in Argun, where almost the entire department was filled up. Here's the story. Then for three days all the old plaster from the ceiling in the cockpits was removed.
  12. padonok.71
    padonok.71 April 27 2014 13: 00
    +2
    And so, it becomes clear. Either the Ministry of Internal Affairs or shpaki. And as all army men know, these are no warriors, no offense, you have a different specificity. Just reading the description, I thought what kind of equipment the company would call for a couple of rounds, and he was a bastard of the CCM. Even conscripts didn’t do this for us. Therefore, to fight, the army, and catch crooks, the Ministry of Internal Affairs. Once again no offense.
  13. Makarych
    Makarych April 29 2014 00: 13
    0
    Quote: Leshka
    cool story, probably a lot of such

    I don’t see anything cool. Sloppy soon. And if everything worked out - praise be to the Almighty, science goes dearly and God forbid without blood