This is our job

This is our jobCaptain Oleg Tapio ... Unusual for the Russian ear Finnish surname, mighty spetsnaz figure, krapovy beret, scars on the face. We met in the Armavir special detachment of the internal troops, where I collected material for an essay about the deceased Hero of Russia Grigory Shiryaev. After the death of Grigory Oleg was appointed to his post - deputy commander of the special training group. In 1999, they came to the squad together as ordinary fighters-conscripts. Both from afar - Grisha from Altai, Oleg - from the Urals. Both with a great desire to serve in special forces.

In the February special operation 2010 of the year near the village of Komsomolskoye of the Chechen Republic, he was the first to rush to Grigori Shiryayev when the militants took the position of the third group of the 15 squad. Seriously wounded, Oleg shot back to the last bullet, covering the departure of Captain Shiryaev, who was in a hurry to help Lieutenant Lugovets ...


Captain Tapio in that battle was lucky to survive. This, of course, is the main reward, but it seemed strange to me that Oleg Tapio was not among the soldiers who were awarded by the President of Russia in the Kremlin on the eve of the 200 anniversary of the internal troops. The solemn ceremony was attended by the mother of the deceased Hero of Russia Lyudmila Shiryaeva, senior lieutenant Arsen Lugovets, wounded in the same battle, and other honored people. Captain Tapio that day was, as always, on a business trip in the Caucasus ...

When this material was being prepared for printing, information appeared that Captain Tapio's award documents were undergoing the necessary approvals. I want to believe that in the near future the brave officer will still be noted. A person who has devoted his entire life to service in special forces, who has lost health, should not remain forgotten.

I turn on the recorder, scroll through the recording made in the Armavir trip. The sound calm voice of Oleg Tapio sounds:
“In the morning of February 4, 2010, we equipped the positions and lay down in the ring. The first breaks I heard about eleven o'clock - sharp rolling claps. In the distance, worked grenade launcher. Captain Shiryaev tried to get in touch with the Ufa squad that conducted the search in a cordoned-off square. There was no connection. Minutes through 20 breaks sounded closer. We lay in readiness. A few minutes later, the gaps rang out around the corner. It was not clear who was driving whom and where.

Visibility was poor, and then the weather began to deteriorate, rain and snow ... My position was on a hill. I crawled a bit to get a better look. I see: the group goes into the hollow. Counted 29 people. Between us, two hundred and fifty-three hundred meters. Someone walked in what: some were wearing camouflage clothing, some were in roller coasters, some were simply in jackets. And the speech seems to be Russian, from afar not to understand. In general, he reported the situation to Grigory, he gave the order to use the green rocket and be ready to repel the attack.

We did not have time to launch a rocket along the height, as a simply unreal squall of fire fell upon us. Everything shot upward - the crust, the earth, and the fountains of snow. Without raising my head, I began to shoot at the extended arms. The gangsters couldn’t make their way from below to us in the position - cliffs, fallen trees, small bushes and snow drifts along the waist prevented ...

There was no connection with captain Shiryaev. The squad leader Sergeant Rajsky (he was near Grigory) got in touch, reported that the sniper Private Selivanov was seriously wounded. I ordered my sapper and the grenade launcher to fire at the enemy, and in short rushes I advanced to the right flank. Ran along the ridge. He ran fast because time was expensive. The bandits noticed me and opened fire. When, literally, bullets fly overhead, bark flies, branches, earth, the feeling is not pleasant, but we have such work ...

Thank God, I reached ... I got close to my own - the squad leader Paradise, the machine gunner Adylov, Grisha are all alive, and Selivanov lies motionless. The right leg in the blood. I gave the command of Paradise to open fire, and he rushed to Selivanov. But there was nothing to help Stepka. The next wave of fire went through his entire flattened body ... I still remember how his eyes went out. I remember the last death pangs - it was clear that a person clings to life ...

I am changing my position, trying to get out of the shelling, I feel how warm my hand has gone like hot water. The bullet hit the brush. I take off the glove, I see - through wound. The first thought is to hold the machine somehow. I did not have time to think about it, as the second bullet hits the head and gets stuck between the lower and upper jaws. Like a sledgehammer on the head. Everything swam before my eyes, black and white trees flashed ... Suddenly I heard: “Dad, let's go hide and seek to play!” And I see my son Kostya. He 7 months then just turned, and here he is quite big, running. I understand that this can not be, that all this is dreaming, but still I answer: "Son, go away, I will find you." And he left ... And my blood runs down my face, my eyes go numb. I thought that he had fallen altogether ...

I show Grisha with signs - go away. He creeps up to me. I told him: “Grish, you are a commander, you need to go to the control room. There is a connection, it is necessary to pull up neighboring groups. There is already no choice: either we or the bandits. ”

At this time, the shooting subsided. I lay down a little. Suddenly I look, some man is about sixty meters away from me. He watched the next height. I didn’t say what I looked like. The only thing that I remember - curls, such a thick hair. I was holding the shop with my elbow, put my head on the butt, and made three shots with a single fire. He fell - formed like a robot. And there was silence. Just silence. Like the sound turned off. Not the slightest rustle - only snow falls and circles float before my eyes. Behind the log lay, I myself on account of giving commands to crawl to the log and hide behind him. At this moment three men ran up to the killed militant. I was lying on my back - I put the machine gun on my stomach and gave a turn from this position. Two fell, the third disappeared from sight ...

Somehow, I crawled to the log, rolled over him ... Blood gushing ... I already said goodbye to my mind and to my wife, and my son ... Another two minutes passed. I feel someone crawling towards me. Machine gunner Adylov. I told him:
- What are you doing here, I told you, go away!
- Commander, we will not leave you.

- And where is the Student (this is the call sign of captain Shiryaev)?
- He's here…
With Adylov and Ra
Yisky we took a perimeter defense. Grisha came up. The knife was tied up with a maskkhalat, a tourniquet was laid - the blood was already curled up, the head bandaged. Lieutenant Lugovets was also wounded at that moment. He was attacked by militants who had taken refuge in our dugout under our positions. Grisha rushed down there. I never saw him again ...

With Paradise and Adylov we remained in place. The shootout continued until dark. Only in the evening the groups of our detachment were brought up. There was relief. Consciousness began to turn off. Through the fog and dizziness, I saw the doctor from the Ufa detachment bustling around me, the wounded Arsen Lugovets lying next to me, how they dragged me to the tent all night. At dawn, I heard the familiar roar of the BTR. I thought: "Once reported, it means that we must suffer and try to survive." Then an armored "Gazelle", a hospital of the 46 brigade, the inscription "Reception room" and the first operations, the Severny airfield, the Moscow reanimation vehicle ... In the capital's hospitals, I was "gathered" my head. With difficulty, but still kept his hand.

In Moscow, the little brothers from Vityaz helped to come back to life. And, of course, a low bow to my wife Zhenya. She served as a medical orderly in the detachment - so we met her in the service. No one understands me and supports me as she does. God forbid every special forces such a wife. She knows that work, service is all for me, without a squad I can’t imagine my life and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. ”
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