They say that such strange things happen in life that no fantasy is able to come up with such a thing. I completely agree with this. For example, here is a life "joke" for you.
In the "good old" seventies, one grandmother lived in a small regional center. Grandmother was like a grandmother - she weeded the garden, auntie with her grandchildren, stood in lines for all kinds of shortages. Only few people knew that in the war that sweet old woman was a sniper, rose to the rank of senior sergeant and received a personalized sniper rifle for a keen eye and a steady hand - then such awards were in use. And the rifle was still produced in the 30s, with a nut stock and optics of the German company Zeiss - at that time we were still friends with the Germans.
Then, after the Great Victory, vigilant "internal organs" were quickly confiscated from the front-line soldiers, all the personalized and award-winning weapons, and our grandma, as she put her "vintar" brought from the front in the closet, forgot about it. Or maybe she did not forget, maybe she just felt sorry to give away the reward earned with sweat and blood - who knows. But only an excellent sniper rifle "sample 1891 shot of the 30th year" quietly gathering dust in the corner of the closet, behind an old coat. It is interesting that the vigilant NKVD somehow forgot about this barrel, or maybe our "bodies" did not know about it - after the war there were a lot
weapons went hand in hand, you can not see for everything. In short - and there is a hole in the old woman, literally and figuratively.
And now, thirty years after the victory, it has passed, when suddenly, somehow quite by accident, the amazing news about what is stored in the old cabinet, by some unknown means, leaked out of the grandmother's house. How it happened - about how they say history is silent. Either the sniper grandmother herself lost her vigilance and foolishly blurted out to her neighbors, or the idle grandchildren started to play hide and seek in the closet, but stumbled upon a strange little thing - we do not know about this. But it is reliably known that on a wonderful summer evening, at an hour of unprecedentedly hot sunset, a very pleasant young man knocked on Granny's gate, introducing himself as a junior researcher of the local museum of local lore. And this pleasant young man began to pour balm on the wounds of a former senior sergeant and a noble sniper - they say, we are making a new exhibition in our museum dedicated to heroes of our fellow countrymen, so I would like to put something there about you. The younger generation needs to know about the heroic deeds of their ancestors!
Granny, of course, melted, sat the dear guest in a place of honor, gave him tea with buns, and then took out the quartered from the treasured secret. Stories about fighting youth, and even warmed up with a pile or two - here whoever wants to go into a tailspin. So grandma could not resist, she brought a dusty rifle with a tarnished plate on the butt, where it was written that senior sergeant Zyukina was awarded by the command for personally exterminating 148 Nazi soldiers and officers.
The guest, in turn, politely wondered, and then take it and suggest: let us include your weapon in the exposition - after all, it's like an order, you have to be proud of it, and not hide it from people. We, he says, only for a while, while the exposition will work, and then we will return, of course, we, they say, do not need someone else's.
Well, how can you resist such arguments? Senior Sergeant Zyukina might have resisted the temptation, but Grandma Masha could no longer. They say, smart people say, that the sin of vanity is inherent in everyone, and it does not lead to good!
The next morning a pleasant junior research assistant drove up in a black Volga with a Museum sign on the glass. For this, he quickly wrote a receipt, forced grandmother to sign it, carefully loaded the precious rifle into the trunk, made a goodbye with a pen - and departed.
For several days, grandmother Masha braced herself (oh, sin of vanity!), And then she could not resist and went to the museum to look at the stand about her front-line youth. Lo and behold - and there is no stand. She - to the director, and he has eyes on his forehead:
our employee? Your rifle? Exposition?
Then the director, as they say now, cleared the chip and began to call the police. While he was talking about the grandmother, and talking about the non-existent stand, the militia chuckled restrainedly, but when it came to the rifle, the peasants did not laugh at once. Instantly reported to the head of the ROVD. He smoked, ate Validol, washed down with a glass of vodka and, in turn, began to call the KGB - in such things it is always better to be on the safe side.
At that time, the KGB also received money for a reason - they instantly realized what was what - sniper, combat, optical sight and a combat range of up to a kilometer - this is no longer a joke. Have you guys forgotten about Kennedy? And if we have a homebrew Oswald showed up here? Yes, if he goes to Moscow with this damn rifle, make a revolution ?! Maybe Savinkov's laurels do not give him peace! In short, trumpet, trumpeter, general gathering !!!
And then it began! They came in large numbers from the center of all kinds of commissions and inspections - like dirt - the villain will still be caught. and the guilty one has to be thrust under the ax today.
The extreme, as usual, turned out to be the switchmen: grandma Masha - as illegally concealing a military weapon to be surrendered, and the local precinct officer - because the terrorists were wound up on his site, but he did not use them in time.
While they were looking for the extreme, in between times they tried to catch the attacker. First, they found a "museum" car - it had been stolen for half a year. Then the museum workers began to shake - how, they say, did the scoundrel know about all your habits? But everywhere the investigation was waiting for a dead end - what kind of guy, where from, who told him about the weapon and how he generally leaked through the dense cordons of the KGB and the police with a rifle - only question marks. Have you seen the movie "Day of the Jackal"? So, here it was about the same, but adjusted for the national mentality and weather conditions of the Russian province.
In general, the district police officer was dismissed from the police, expelled from the party, and then for a long time they fumbled at all levels - until he spat on everything and left for some remote forestry, to work as a gamekeeper. Man was disappointed in the benefits of Soviet civilization and decided to get closer to nature.
Grandmother Masha was almost imprisoned for illegal possession of weapons, but then they remembered that the rifle was still an award, therefore, taking into account military merit, they limited themselves to a severe reprimand on the party line. Yes, she died in speed anyway, old lady.
And the chief of the militia in the regional committee was so straightened that he then drank vodka for a week, beat the dishes with pleasure and even in all seriousness told his wife that, in his opinion, Grandma Masha "shot at the wrong people" in the war.
As for the rifle, it "surfaced" only after many years, in the midst of perestroika, when some gangster ace or tuzik was "piled up" from it. A familiar forensic scientist who told this whole story said that, apparently, the "sniper" changed many owners, fought both in Abkhazia and in Transnistria. Someone perfectly adjusted the rifle, hung out the barrel "on three points", as is customary with snipers, and adjusted the trigger. The stock was cut with notches, and on the award plate, which for some reason none of the owners bothered to remove, the number 148 was corrected. It was written there - 319.
