I have heard different stories, but, frankly, I have never heard such a story. The scout Alexey Nikodimovich Tolstov told me about it. Here it is for you word for word:
It should be noted that my civilian specialty is a watchman at the city cemetery. Now I see: you are smiling! And I mean that I had nothing to do with the work of an intelligence officer before.
When I got to the reconnaissance detachment, I began to go for "tongues". This business was unusual for me, but nothing: I got used to it, got the hang of it. The first case, however, was not very successful. I grabbed the German - he escaped. I hit him with a grenade. The deceased turned out from the "tongue". Therefore, I will tell you about another case.
We went again for the "language": me, Pletushkin and Kruglikov. We ran into a hefty detachment. There are three of us. There are about twenty Germans. In general, we acted well. They killed, probably, half and crawled where it was agreed. And then a problem came out with me: I just crawled away - they hit me on the head with something. The eyes became dark as in a grave. While I, as they say, was surprised and put my thoughts in order, the Germans dragged me quite far.
They brought me in for interrogation. Nothing, I say, you will learn from me, except what I myself wish to say. My name is Alexey Nikodimovich Tolstov. I am Russian by nationality. My native language is Russian. And in my mouth I have Russian, it does not break the oath. I know you will shoot me, but you will not get away alive either: Soviet soldiers will bury you in the first category.
They took me to execution: the chief lieutenant and five privates. We reached the edge of the forest, shove a shovel into my hands: "Dig!" It's a common thing. He began to dig a grave. The pile of land is growing, and I glance at the Fritzes: “Eh, I think what 'languages' are disappearing. Not a scout came out of me. " And the chief lieutenant looks into the pit and hurries: "Schnel, schnel!" I show him with my hands: "Don't teach, they say, I know myself."
I dig my own grave and suddenly I hear: they are flying. The Germans began to fuss. They hit the ground with their noses. Well, I think ours! And suddenly tfffiiiyuuuu..! How to gasp! At the very edge. I bent down in the grave, only had time to think: "Okay, I dug a crack for myself!" - how it whistles! I was just showered with earth. The grave saved! Here is the correct interaction of our air forces with a separate reconnaissance officer in the deep rear! I am all the more pleased that the chief lieutenant later turned out to be talkative and gave very valuable information at the headquarters. I gave him a takeaway! To the very trenches he dragged on himself. He did not even make a squeak: he was silent, like a dead man at a funeral service. And he had a map in his bag. Our artillery two hours later covered their firing points, like an oak cover … Well, as for the other five Germans, the grave is ready for them there. Such a deep, square, in general, a grave for an amateur. Tolstov was digging! In short, I think this is the best of all the graves I dug.
Kalinin front.
