It was already the last years of the 80s.
The cadet platoon was in its own training class at the company location. It was in the evening, there was nothing to do, summer, heat, it was sampo …
Everyone went about their usual business: more than half of the platoon courageously crushed the "mass", dropping their lead heads on the prudently opened notes, who smoked on the balcony, who chatted about the female sex, and who tried to write letters to this very half. One was scrubbing the badge with Goy's paste, one was covering the yellow stripes on the shoulder straps of the ceremonial tunic with PVA glue, preparing for a planned "mating" in dismissal …
On the blackboard in the upper left corner it was written with all care that at the moment such and such a valiant platoon in such a number of people is engaged in self-training, one on the lip, two in an outfit, one in a hospital: this is so that everyone who comes in would immediately penetrate the seriousness of the moment and did not ask unnecessary questions. Nafik us unnecessary questions.
Flies buzzed, soft swears were heard and a persistent barracks smell melted.
In general, everything was as usual.
But then, out of nowhere, appeared … this very …
The front door swung open with a kick of a boot, killing a gaping fly, and the army men immediately became alert and stopped sleeping, smoking, scratching their tongues and generally thinking (there is no need in the army to think). Everyone was ready to jump up, signifying diligence, and with admiration there is the adored bosses with their eyes.
On the threshold stood a happy member of our glorious unit: Suleiman Batkovich, whom no one like Said (in short) knew in our country. Balagur and gouging. Natskadr and in essence, and to the liking (Soviet distribution of military enlistment offices). This is the same pearl, which, in fact, has been listed in the state hospital for a month already.
The people unanimously removed the tension from the muscles and shouted joyfully in all their polyphony:
- Said, s.ka, it is necessary to warn, we are on sampo;
- Said, smoked radish, that, in the hospital, the nasvay ended, came to us?;
- Said, crawl into your native birds!;
- Said, you owe me 5 rubles!
- Said, what have you got? … the people fell silent and tenaciously, with an intuitive feeling of always hungry young wolves, whose gut always seems to have a fig in their stomachs, looked intently at the parcel box that Said was holding in his hands …
First, a parcel entered the classroom, almost at a ceremonial step, then Said's smile shining in the entire face of the tower, and then all of Said, with a permanently tattered plate hanging far below the causal site.
- Ne was expected? And this is me, good, brothers, how I missed you, my dear ones !!!
So … The people instantly appreciated the situation and … smelling the cheesy spirit, tightening the elastic in their panties … (uh-uh … nafig Krylov's fables, the real package is more expensive) huddled at the happily smiling Sayid:
- Said, were you discharged?
- Well, what's there, in the hospital, how?
- Said, you are definitely healthy already. How is the bull? Did the vet sign?
The happy child of the mountains smiled and looked in all directions, trying to express his feelings in Russian:
- Yes, kaneshno, discharged, tried to stick to the nurse, who works with "soldering irons" … uh-uh … FGS for some, dismissed … Countrymen no. Zhrachka is even worse than in our nausea. And what should I do there? So I asked you to. I asked the doctor about the discharge, he said: "you are healthy, p..breathe in part, if you want so." And I want to see you, my unfaithful brothers …
All this he said, surrounded by a platoon, turning the tower in all directions, and really smiled happily. Poor fellow, I really missed our swamp …
The castle immediately corrected the militant inscription on the board about the combat readiness of our platoon, and in general in the ranks of the valiant armed forces of the Soviet Union, by deleting "hospital 1" and adding +1 to "Available" - it is wise, since a check can always come, they To "dump" for our joy that Said has returned to us again, but "do not dump" on the inscription on the board, and it is already, alas, outdated.
- Said, my dear friend, what is it in your hands? (a couple of impatient noses have already sniffed "the snail, as taught", all the seams …
- Yes, my mother sent it, they got the ram, smoked the meat, found it at our post office. I knew that the parcel would come and agreed at the post office to leave it and not touch it, I would pick it up myself. I gave the pack of "Tu" so that the parcel would not be sent to the hospital, I gave the pack of "Tu" now so that the parcel would be given away, toilet shaitans, chmoshniki!
- You say the ram … they killed … they smoked it so that it does not deteriorate during shipment … the hungry stomachs calmed down and their eyes sparkled …
- And about the chmoshniks, what did you say … well, yes, chmoshniks, they are also in Africa: “chmoshniks”. Nefig to talk about them.
- Guys, I will open the parcel only with you, everything is as we all do as usual !!!
How did you leave the hospital on time, Said, how did you bring the parcel on time … because you always want to eat and so every day … maybe even today there will be happiness and the guts will end the Third World War among themselves and, peacefully embracing, they will fall asleep well fed, even if for a while fiddle with messages to the brain that is empty in the belly …
A well-coordinated army mechanism immediately unfolded (we had already switched to the third year, two years in the army, not some kind of khukhry-mukhry), we are already aces in tearing out the lid of the parcel from this parcel itself "with meat".
Said was the first to enter the contents of the open box, speaking in his own language. This is sacred … a sending from his relatives …
He took out a sheet of notebook folded in half in a cage, covered with unfamiliar letters, woolen socks made of sheep wool, carefully wrapped in the newspaper Pravda … and walked away from the parcel, sitting down on a scraped-glass and lacquered army chair, pressing his socks to his chest and straightening the sheet of notebook …
- Said …
The people silently stomped around the parcel, realizing that the guy had a real "blockage in the brain" … everyone had this … it is better not to touch him … he will tell him when necessary. For a couple of seconds, the subdivision can be patient …
- Yes… ? Guys, disassemble what you want, me just a small piece for … leave the "smell" … - Said said in a daze, reading the letters …
So, the command "face" was given by the owner of the "real treasure" … Hehe … But we will act wisely, well, as always, from the "mother" after all … This is sacred.
The platoon buried its heads over the parcel and began to carefully and carefully open the contents: unfolding, feeling, sniffing … trained "parcels" …
- So, this should be given to Sayid;
- What is it?
- Yes, hell knows, but wrapped in a motherly way and small in size …
- Yeah, let's put it off;
- And what's that?
Silence.
- Yes, hell knows what it is, let's postpone it too, otherwise we'll eat Altyn's horse meat and we'll read newspapers on the jerk for a day … The push is not washed afterwards.
- Yeah, put it off.
- And what is this, the biggest?
Noses and intuition did not disappoint the eternally hungry wolves … It was smoked mutton. Perfectly preserved mutton …
A fly that accidentally flew to the meat had no chance: at least seven hands simultaneously slapped it at the same time … There is no chance, even the wings and reaction will not help the jet fly: the hungry meat …
The people in the form of one single combat unit called a platoon seethed with exclamations, waves of hands and everything else … this very soul of this very platoon:
- There is meat !!!
- Bread ???
- Shcha, for bread … who will go to the "canteen" for bread?!?!?! …
Who is the oil cutter there now? Who is his "grain"? You and you? Yes, we ourselves know that "you and you" … let's go, guys, for bread !!!
… so, the crowd of the line platoon feverishly and amicably pondered what could be done to set the Normal table and … have a meal …
- Alcohol? They will burn, there is no reason …
- Tea ?
- Aha !!! Tea, hot !!!
No sooner said than done…
In a flash, the 220-volt wires from the "Speedola" platoon, languishing on the dusty shelf of the class, were pulled out, the blades of the "Neva" were taken out of the packs (not the first time), cotton threads and smoker's matches … and double (four blades, two per wire) "Bulbulator", was ready for action …
They unhooked the "Teapot", sent the most desperate to march along the CPU with the "teapot" (central aisle, take-off) … to the washbasin. We wait. We began to search carefully (!!!) for hidden sugar … Carefully, because no one wants to receive cuffs from their bed brothers for the “funeral” of a product with a march of 5 kilometers and back. They found two grains, poured them onto the Tactics synopsis (it doesn't matter whose synopsis it is, the main thing is that everything was "poured" into one "pile of sugar" …
Drooling flows …
But the wait is even more agonizing …
The front door swung open with a kick of a boot, killing the third gape fly, and the army men immediately became alert … will they feed us or f … eh? …
On the threshold, the "people's" bowler hat full of water shone with happiness … and it was held by four hands, and he stood, the bowler hat, on four tarpaulins … It is clear, that means "they did not burn" … extreme people walking along the CPU to the tap with water and back … Che you can't sleep … do you really care about "two charge in turn"? Means, "do not care". Our guys.
Ooh, the platoon growled, taking the precious vessel and closing the open door with his boot … The lock grabbed his head … his fate is so … dirty shoulder straps …
The people's bowler hat was royally hoisted between notes, bags, gas masks and other nonsense: the main thing is that it would stand exactly like a spirit on the parade ground …
They immersed a "bulbululator" in it … the light was not knocked out on the territory of the unit … well, that's nice. Yes, we do not know anything … And what are you talking about? Bulbululator? And what is it? Well, and we do not know what you are talking about … We didn’t make it out of a hacksaw for metal, we care about the power grid of the military unit of the USSR Armed Forces, you need to understand such things, everything is very serious.
Bubbles rise in the water of a folk pot … that's good … We wait and look at the bubbles.
………
"The clatter of iron hooves with horseshoes on tarpaulin, yuft, barnyard and lame boots … about the wooden flooring on the CPU …". We know this sound …
This is "tarpaulin". Phew …
… A couple of morons from a neighboring platoon went into the sport leg … The pitching was unfinished.
… Yes, two of our breads from the "bread slicer" of the dining room brought them, albeit without butter … Set off for travelers who "bring gifts" …
… Bubbles burst too loudly. Radishes bubbles, light and sound masking must be observed. Not in civilian life, tea … Science-physics does not understand this. Funny … bubbles …
………
The water is bubbling, it's good … They poured tea (a little, with a fool, they didn't throw the nasvay there, the owner of this wow - cuffs … ten times in a row from the whole platoon, by name to his head), poured sugar … The smell of real tea - it smells even in Africa real tea.
The platoon huddled around the people's cauldron …
This is hot tea …
Yeah.
- Said!
- What … people looked up from the incomprehensible letters on paper …
- Everything is ready, Said … Let's go to us …
What is: Army Spirit? Military collective? … Probably, this is: when the ever-hungry platoon is patiently waiting for the owner of the parcel, who reads the letter from the mother … And this is normal and correct, because everything is "from mother": both the letter and the food … Not from the "mother" but from " Mothers "… You have to understand. Holy …
And the fact that the "military collective" organized the havchik … do not tell the horseshoes of my old horse … this is normal and old as the world called planet Earth … And not only … God is one for all.
- I'm coming.
But then we did not think about it, but simply lived all together, and survived all together. And then we simply and stupidly gnawed our teeth into the meat of a lamb … You should be in our place … Although there are worse places, but we really just have a resort: they don't shoot.
The crunch of bones on the teeth (meat !!!), bread, a handed folk pot with fragrant tea with zuker, admiring mothers from unexpected pleasure …
There is happiness in life !!!
- Said?
- What?
- And what are these delicacies, we do not know, they have postponed you, enlighten, buddy.
- Where to shine, what to shine? - the child of the mountains gnawed at the rib.
- Yes, go up to the kudykin mountain, “enlighten” and “light” are different things in the Russian language, I'm sorry, it's my own fault, I didn't ask so … what is this, you have been postponed, is it edible? How is it?
- And … this is … a smile in the whole tower …
- This nada is in small pieces and with bread, like this.
It is clear, we eat and keep silent in a rag.
- Said!
- What?
- Write to your mother that we are all Grateful and we will never forget it …
- Guys, yes I …
- Better be silent, Said … just write our gratitude in your incomprehensible letters … Will you do it?
- Of course …
- Well, nice …
………
How good is life when the stomach is full … And the smell of goodies in the mouth … And "pale" has long been thrown over the fence … We are just innocent clouds and have not seen anything, have not heard and do not know. For the first time in our life we saw the ABC in the toilet, it has good paper …
Excuse us army cynics …
- People, shall we go to dinner?
- And what to do there, to look at BIGUS?
- Do not say this terrible word, I still pick out a real lamb from my teeth with my tongue …
- Yeah, shut up …
- Nope. Let's go to dinner. There is bread and butter rations, and fig tea with sugar … will not interfere with digestion.
- Yeah, it certainly won't hurt …
………
The clatter of iron hooves with horseshoes on the CPU … these are chrome … solid chrome …
The door to the classroom kicked open, hitting several more stupid flies smoked with the smell of mutton at once.
Platoon leader, our dear.
The stabilizer of the habit hammered into the brain worked as a rhinestone: everyone jumped up with a simultaneous whimper of the castle: "Platoon, keep quiet!"
Then, as usual, there was a report that “such and such” a valiant unit of the Red Army, foaming at the mouth, was zealously gnawing the granite of military science in such and such a number of self-trained soldiers. That "so many" nets are taking time off from studying military wisdom and scrubbing glasses in the closet, being in company attire. That one person is just asleep, an infection, on the garrison "lip". That "one whole member" of the military collective returned from the horsemen of the district hospital and thereby raised the defense capability of our Motherland by one point, i.e. for one combat unit …
The old hardened young captain, listening to this familiar crap, sniffed the air … and looked at our happy faces, dazed with happiness. And it's a mess when the faces in the army are smiling.
- Tae-e-e-k … It seems that there are people who want to organize a "funeral" of food supplies …
Damn … they could not turn on the delta D switch (fool) … And they didn’t, out of habit, eat the bosses with loving eyes, as Peter I ordered … They got sick and pierced like small children. Shame on our gray-haired young heads …
Now beware, the dog is angry. Piano Concerto in our asses will surely play. The question is - how many acts will there be in this concert? The question is rhetorical …
Shmon … how much in this word for the heart of a Russian soldier has merged … and merged in the "most unwilling" with a slap in "I can not" …
But:
Our pockets, bosoms and secret "nychki" were as pristine as a serf's barn (they ate everything);
Spidola's platoon commander regularly wheezed in the voice of the Mayak radio station (in principle, a violation, but agreed upon);
The blades of the famous Neva factory snored peacefully with their virgin brethren, who did not know the stubble, in a factory pack.
Ants in the grass behind the fence of the uchagi were already busily crawling along threads and damp matches, not knowing how to adapt all this wealth to the anthill (there were also a couple of dead flies nailed by the door).
The people's bowler hat was safely hidden.
The "Delta D" on the faces of the platoon had already switched on, and we did our best to help our commander in his search for "it is not clear what and where." Zeal was written on the faces of everyone and everything … You have to understand!
The play in the puppet theater turned out to be a very serious production: in addition to twisted pockets, training commander's bags and bags with gas masks (it was Wednesday, the day of "elephants"), ALL notes were taken from the shelves and the balcony was examined.
Well, the balcony was in perfect order by army standards - there was simply NOTHING there, only the prankish wind brought unregulated dust to the balcony railing. But in the notebooks there was a bunch of compromising evidence: as many as two (!!!) unfinished letters in the notes on firepower training and armored vehicles … they were not sent, because they ended with a "cardiogram" of a ballpoint pen on paper that fell "to the ground" in this very summary, a cadet … in the process of the most important lecture … Also flies. Flying can't be old. A flight ceases to be a flight only after being punished for it. It is logical, but we all understand this and categorically do not mind …
The perpetrators were punished according to the Charter (cool books, read well at night, useful for falling asleep).
The platoon commander narrowed his eyes, looked around at his beloved personnel and … grinned … real future officers stood in front of him … with the same sparkle in his eyes as he did.
- Lining up for dinner in 15 minutes. Command, senior sergeant!
- Attention!
- At ease.
The platoon commander left the classroom, slamming the door so that one of the last curious flies lost direction in the wave of the oncoming air and was killed on the board. Even the wings did not help her … Wings, wings … LEGS !!! That’s the main thing.
Eh, you are our hardened commander, really respected by us …
Well, tankers are not used to raising the tower up, and you are not used to …
And four shades of lighting were attached to the ceiling. Soviet ones, round, matte, with a hole on the top for a light bulb …
Three plafonds were dirty, like the outfit for the dining room in a "root-cutter", and the fourth shone with cleanliness and winked with its whiteness … a national bowler hat.
P. S.
We then washed all the plafonds … otherwise we almost burned …
And the platoon commander was later shown to "this" that we, zealous soldiers, even licked the plafonds … Everyone wanted to be fired … Hehe.
… That was when there was the usual weekly Friday "Just Shitty Day", well … PCBs.
………
