Dembel chord
In April 1987, we, six demobels from the fifty kopeck piece, started making a demob chord. Two fountains were made in the shelf at the entrance to the club (this is a huge aluminum shed). An old cannon was immediately placed on the pedestal, and a stand “The best people of the unit” was made from pipes concreted into the ground. Photos of commanders, Heroes of the Soviet Union were hung on it.
Many did not want to tackle this chord - because if you do not have time to finish, then you will not go home on time. And we did it all. We did it quickly. We are given a second job, then a third. There are ten days left. Here they say: "We need to build a cafe!" The iron frame was already standing, but there was nothing else. We: "Comrade commander, this is work for four months, for five!" - "You have ten days."
I had to raise young people from all over the battalion, the cafe was built in three days. The commander knew perfectly well who was building the cafe. But for the sake of appearance he comes and asks: "Well, I hope you don't take young people?" - "No-ee!.. What young people - they don't know how to build!" - "I understand. See that everything is normal! ". He was talking about "flying", you never know what kind of inspector will come.
On the day of dispatch, one hundred people were sent home first. I was the very first to stand: 1st squad, 1st platoon, 1st company, 1st battalion. The regimental commander came up and looked at me and at the others, again at me and at the others: “Where are your medals?..”. I immediately invited a clerk, who wrote out two certificates for me. It was written there that Viktor Nikolayevich Emolkin was being awarded the Order of the Red Star and the Medal For Courage. - “Here are two certificates for you with the seal of the regiment, with my signature. I'll check it, everything will be fine. And it’s somehow inconvenient: I fought for so long and was not awarded at all”.
And in some matters I was definitely unlucky. Until this 4th of May, we were alerted: all demobels should quickly prepare for home! We were delighted, dressed in a parade. Then the company commander comes running. To me: “Quickly undress! You are not going anywhere, you will serve until August. I almost died on the spot from such meanness! On combat and so often looked for it in the scope, I had special spiritual bullets prepared. But each time the Lord saved: you can't, you can't shoot, you can't in your own in any case. A terrible sin!
I ran to the regiment commander. - "This is the case … The company commander said that I am not going." - "You are going! You are on the lists! Who is this Trushkin? Here I am the regiment commander, not him. Dress quickly!"
I got dressed and ran to the "artillery troop". All the demobels of the division were lined up there, they arrived at the regiment the day before, and they spent the night with us. We thought we were about to fly away. But it was not so … The chief of staff of the division built us. But everyone wore a demobilization uniform: white belts (they are from the dress uniform, you cannot wear them separately) and all that jazz. We stand dressed like some peacocks, but before us everyone did that. Chief of Staff: “Don't fly home. This is a non-statutory form. Everyone to change. Day to put yourself in order! ".
We are all shocked. After all, when I was riding the armor, I cut the shoulder straps out of the grenade launcher for a long time, cut the letters "SA" with a file for a long time, sewed up the chevrons with a white thread-sling. It's a lot of work, as much as six months!..
Chief of Staff: "Soldier, come to me!" And he pulls out the "chemist" (we served in the same platoon in training). And he put on a spare airborne uniform. For us, he was dressed simply like a "chmoshnik"! “Do you see how he is dressed? This is how you should dress! And now I will show you how to dress! " My nickname was Moksha. They hiss to me: "Moksha, hide!"(The guys knew I was unlucky in this regard.) I sat down as best I could. The chief of staff walked, walked, walked, walked: "There is a soldier standing there behind, so small!" - "Moksha, you!" - "I will not go out..". Chief of Staff: "Soldier!" He came up and literally pulled me out, I almost fell: "Can't you hear me!..". - "No, Comrade Colonel, I have not heard." - "What are you talking about?" - “Comrade Colonel, I am a combat soldier, the division commander knows me personally. I have not heard. Now I'm listening to you! " Nadzil, in short.
He: "What is this red patch?" - "Well, this is how all demobels dress …". - “Who are you telling this? Yes, I'm on your "lip"!.. ". And he wants to rip off my shoulder straps: he grabbed and pulled. And the shoulder straps do not come off, I stuck them well. - “So, I give you a day! To prevent all this from happening! Otherwise, no one will fly home!"
All the demobels of the division got together and decided: “If all are together, there will be no punishment. Let's not do anything! We did not sleep all night, they talked on the street near the fountain that we had built.
The next day, the regiment commander decided to gather us at our headquarters. Political political officer Kazantsev has already come out. (Then I heard on TV that after a while in Moscow he threw himself out of the window. An incomprehensible story …) We are already standing with our suitcases, but the crowd has not yet formed. Kazantsev: “Well, got dressed? I know what's the matter. First, we will check what you are taking with you so that there are no problems at your customs. " I got scared - I can't remember exactly what I have in my suitcase! Of course, nothing is clearly criminal: I bought something, I worked on something. Guys to me: "Moksha, hide!" I sat down, sitting on a suitcase. Zampolit: “So, where is Moksha? Call him here! " - "I'm here…". - “We'll only check with you, we won't be with anyone else. Do you agree? If he has problems - then everything is back! ".
Guys to me: “Do you even know what you have in your suitcase? Do not substitute, because of you, the whole division will not fly! ". I open my suitcase. Bam - a bunch of checks and a bunch of Afghans on top! All: "O-oo-oo-oo!.. What are you, did not even look, or what!". Zampolit: "And what is this?" Me: “This? Yes it is Afghani!.. ". - “Yes, I see that the Afghani. Why do you need these Afghans? " - "To me?..". - "For you, for you …". I got scared - I expose everyone. And then one was found: "So he is engaged in numismatics, collects different money!" - “Do you collect? It's good. Why do you need so much? " They shouted from the crowd: “So he has a lot of collector friends! While he will distribute it to everyone, while he will change it back and forth …”. I looked - the political officer was amused. Already good! - "There will be too many friends …". Someone: “Yes, a bit too much! You can take a part for yourself. " Me: “What are you?!. How is it to take? " Zampolit: "Too much, I'll take half." All in chorus: "Yes, take it, take it!..". He pulled out half and put it in his pocket: "And the checks?" - "Yes, I saved it in a year and a half …". He: “There will be more than a thousand here, it is unlikely that you saved them. We must take half. " All again: "Take it, take it!" He took half for himself, looks further. I found the watch, the belt is white. But he didn't take anything else.
And the next day we were raised on alarm, and the special department stripped us down to cowards, and some of them naked. They took almost everything. I only had a watch because it was on my wrist. And whoever had it in their suitcase was taken away …
Homecoming
We arrived in Chirchik on May 5, 1987. The colonel arrives, in his hand a pack of coupons - a reservation for plane tickets. The colonel shouts: "Moscow, twenty places!" - "Me, me, me …". Gave. - "Kiev, ten seats, Novosibirsk, eight seats …". The reservation is being dismantled. And then I begin to realize that there will not be enough armor for everyone on the plane. After all, several hundred people flew in. Colonel: "Kuibyshev!" Me: "Me!" Didn't get it. Then somewhere else - I didn't get it again. I heard: "Bitter, three places!" I ran away, jumped on someone's shoulders, reached forward over several heads and snatched these three coupons from the colonel's hands. And then he rolled back on his back and fell to the floor. But everyone knew me. So they just laughed, and that's how it ended. We were immediately given money: three hundred rubles each, and it seemed like the same amount of checks. We flew further to Tashkent.
In Tashkent, at the airport, I gave one reservation to a guy from Chuvashia, another - to a guy from Tatarstan. He was a tanker from a tank battalion in our division. We bought plane tickets to Gorky. Then our regimental scouts came, everyone went for a walk to the restaurant. Seryoga Ryazantsev says to me: "Let's have a drink too!" Me: “What are you doing? We will definitely not make it home then! " I didn’t drink that much. And the Sledgehammer drank and very hard …
I already have to go to registration. I found Seryoga in the waiting room. He sits on a bench, sleeps. We must say goodbye, maybe we'll never see him again! And he is drunk as a lord, does not understand anything. It was so offensive … (I recently found him, he came to visit me. He lives in Chelyabinsk, works as a driver. It was so joyful to meet him again!)
I went to the front desk. On the way I met the guys from the reconnaissance company. I say: “I'm flying away. Let's say goodbye. " They: "Vityok, we will accompany you!" And the whole crowd went to see me off. We got to the boarding gate, and there they say that they can't go on. They: “How is it impossible?!. We must put Vitka on the plane! " The locals did not contact us, the guys took me right to the plane. Three of them walked into the cabin of the plane with me, hugged them to tears. We have become such friends in Afghanistan! And then we part almost forever …
There was an intermediate landing in Orenburg. The time before departure was an hour and a half, we were released from the plane. At the airport I see a woman standing and crying. I came up and asked: "What happened?" She: “My son served in Afghanistan, in Kabul. In the landing. He died … And now, when the soldiers are returning from there, I come to the airport. " - "And in what years did he serve?" "I should have returned this spring." I think: "Wow, from our call!". I ask: "What is your surname?" She gave her last name. (I don't remember exactly now. It seems to me that Isaev.) - “But how did he die? He is alive. He is from the 6th company of our regiment! " - "How alive, when four months not a single letter from him!" I described what he looks like - it really turned out to be him. “I don’t know why he didn’t write. But we flew to Tashkent with him. He's alive, everything is fine. " She didn't believe me at first. And then I was so delighted!.. I say: “Likely alive! There are no plane tickets, he will come by train. Buy meat, make dumplings. He really wants to eat homemade dumplings! " (We all in Afghanistan jokingly said that when we get home, first of all we go to the bathhouse to wash. And then we will eat homemade dumplings.) The woman's joy knew no bounds, it was necessary to see …
In Gorky we said goodbye to a guy from Chuvashia. I don’t remember his name now. And with the tanker we went to Saransk together. There were no buses, we took a taxi. In the evening I came to my sister in Saransk. But the next day I went not to my mother, but to the family of my friend Vasily. (When we were surrounded in Pandshera, he was seriously wounded in the knee. His family lived not far, twenty kilometers from Saransk. Vasily asked me not to tell my parents about the injury.)
At the bus station, the guys from our village saw me. It was May 7, 1987, they were going to go home from the city for the holidays. I told them: “Don't tell your mom that I have arrived! Otherwise I won't pour a single gram of vodka."
I come to Vasya's home, tell his mother: “Vasya, my friend, serves normally. Is he Ok…". She: “You don't have to say. We know everything. " - "Everything is fine with him, everything is fine …". - "Yes, we know everything!" - "What do you know?". - "Yes, we have already been with him." - "Where were you?". “He was transferred to Moscow, to the Burdenko hospital. We have just returned from there. Everything is in order, the leg is intact. A French scientist-surgeon saved his leg - he spliced nerve endings. " - "Can not be! Vasya was in the hospital in Tashkent! " And to myself I think: “What a scoundrel! He made me lie, but at home they already know everything. " But in fact, I was very happy that he was doing well with his leg.
I was going to go from Saransk to my home, I hail a taxi. Then I hear someone shouting: "Victor, Victor!..". I can't understand who is calling me. I did not immediately recognize him in civilian clothes. And it turned out to be a major - an infantry battalion commander. His name was Vladimir, I lay with him in our divisional medical battalion. (He ended up in a hospital in Afghanistan with multiple bullet and shrapnel wounds, there were more than fifty of them. After the operation, the doctors gave him a whole bag of shrapnel and bullets that were extracted.) We talked a little, I took his address and home phone number and got on the bus.
I came to my village and walked to my house. He stood at the very end of the street. And everyone already knows that I have arrived. People took to the road. I had to say hello to everyone, so I couldn't walk fast. Mom first saw a crowd of people on the road and went out to see what was happening there. And then she saw that I was going! And with tears she ran towards me …
The university
When I returned to Saransk a few days later, I called Volodya. We met. We sat, remembered Afghan, drank a little. He asks me: “Well, we returned alive. What are you going to do next? " Me: "I haven't even thought about it yet!" - "You have to go to study!" - “Yes, what a study! I didn’t study at school, I don’t have any knowledge”. And he began to convince me: “You need to study! You can! You need to go to law school. " - “What a law school! For me, it's like being an astronaut - it's unrealistic. Volodya, I can't! " - “Victor, you can! I am the battalion commander. Many soldiers passed through me, officers. Trust me as a commander - you can definitely do it. " That's when they said goodbye to him.
I went to Leningrad. For several days, while looking for work, I slept at the station. In the end, he found a job as a turner at the Leningrad metal plant. They were given a hostel and a limited residence permit.
I took shape, I am sitting in the corridor, waiting for me to be given a dorm room. A guy sits next to him: a denim suit that we all had in Afghanistan, Adidas sneakers, a Montana bag, Ferrari glasses, a Japanese watch with seven melodies on his wrist. And a "diplomat" with a name written on top. I think: definitely "Afghan"! Maybe even from our division. We all left with the same set. I ask: "Are you by any chance" bacha "?" He turns: "Bacha …" - "Where from?" - "From the 103rd division." - "Listen, and I'm from there!". - "And where are you from?". - "From" fifty dollars ". He turned out to be from the engineer battalion of our division. We were so happy with him! And they settled in a hostel in one room. (After Afgan, I ended up on a desert island. I had no one to communicate with, we did not understand each other. The interests and life experiences of the people around me were completely different.)
They began to talk. It turned out that we flew to Chirchik together. His name was Vanya Kozlenok, he turned out to be from Bryansk. I say: "Yes, I have a friend from Bryansk, Vitya Shultz!" - "Can not be! This is my friend too. " And Vitya Shultz was from our "fifty dollars" reconnaissance company. Word for word, here he says: "Vitya and I in Tashkent escorted one of ours to the plane, broke through right to the place!" Me: "So it was you who accompanied me!" He told how they returned from Tashkent by train. We got drunk and caused such a destruction at the station! The police were raised, the military. Somehow they were pushed onto the train. So all the way to Moscow and drove with drunkenness and fights …
I started working as a turner at the LMZ. But after two or three months I began to think about studying. I think: “Can I really study? But the major spoke so confidently that I could. Can I really do it? And somehow these thoughts began to warm me up.
I went to look for where the university is located in Leningrad. I found the university itself, then the law school. But I was ashamed to ask something there. I didn’t know then how the dean’s office differed from the professor. But then I plucked up my courage and went in. He asked how he could do after the army. I was told that it is better to enter the preparatory faculty after the army. I went to the "sub-faculty", he was at the Faculty of Geography. This is the 10th line of Vasilievsky Island. I found out what documents are needed. It turned out that the law faculty needed a characterization and recommendation. And I don't have them! I didn’t take anything from the army, I wasn’t going to study.
I went to the directorate of the plant. And in the personnel department they say to me: “You have to work for three years. Until you work, we will not give you anything. So either work or quit. And there was nowhere to quit, I lived in a factory hostel and was registered there.
I went to the factory committee of the Komsomol. They said the same thing. But one member of the Komsomol says: “We cannot help you with anything. But you yourself go to the regional committee of the Komsomol. There are normal guys. Maybe they will help ….
Once after work I come to the regional committee. He was in the House of Political Education, this building is directly opposite Smolny. I went from office to office - no use. Finally I found the office of the third secretary, went into the reception: "I want to talk to the secretary!" The secretary replies: "We need to make an appointment in advance: on what issue and so on." Doesn't let me see the secretary. I say: "I am from Afgan, I fought." - "So what if you fought?" And then a hurricane of feelings arose inside me, I was so indignant! And before he even had time to think, he shook his fist on the table with a swing: “You’re sitting here, wiping your pants! And in Afghanistan, people howl! " And bang again on the table! The secretary jumped aside: "Hooligan!" Then the secretary of the regional committee comes out of the office: "What's going on here?" - “Why, the bully is crazy! The police must be called! " Secretary to me: "What happened?" - “I served in Afghanistan. And they don't even want to listen to me. " He: “Calm down, calm down … Come in. Tell us what you want."
I went in and said: “I fought in Afghanistan. I work in a factory, but I want to study. It turned out that a characterization and recommendation was needed. I took nothing from the army. If I write there now, who will give them to me? I quit six months ago. And my commander has already left from there. Nobody knows me there, nobody will write anything. But I was told that the Komsomol can give a recommendation. " Secretary: “Where did you serve? Tell me. " As soon as I began to tell, he interrupted me and called somewhere: "Seryoga, come in soon!" Some guy came by. It turned out that this was the first secretary of the regional committee. I even remembered his name: Sergei Romanov. So we sat there until evening, I told them about Afghanistan for three hours.
At the end, Romanov asks me: "What do you want from us?" - "Yes, I need a characteristic and a recommendation!" - "Okay. Come tomorrow, we'll do everything. " The next day I came to the regional committee. And I was actually given a testimonial and recommendation! The recommendation said that after graduation they were ready to hire me as a lawyer in the regional committee of the Komsomol. They say: "This recommendation will help you a lot."
I handed over the documents to the admissions office of the university, everything seems to be in order. But the entrance exams are ahead! Knowledge - zero … The first to write an essay. I probably made about a hundred mistakes in it. Mixed up the names of the stories, the names of the main characters. Then suddenly a woman from the admissions office stopped next to me and looked at my papers. - "How many mistakes, how many mistakes!..". Take a pen and let's fix it! Corrected for about fifteen minutes. Then he says in my ear: “Don't write anything else. Rewrite and submit. " And the guys who are sitting next to them and are also writing an essay are talking among themselves: "By pulling, by pulling …". I rewrote (and my handwriting was good, almost calligraphic) and passed. Then I look at the list at the stand - I have a "four"!
The second time she saved me on the oral exam in Russian and literature. I stood up for a student in the corridor. I don’t remember what it was about, but it was not his fault. And the teacher yells at him. I tell her: “Why are you shouting at him? He's definitely not to blame. " She: “Why are you meddling in other matters? I will remember you. " And indeed, she remembered me …
I come for an oral exam - she is sitting. She was delighted and said: "Come to me." And then I realized that my dream of studying at the university was coming to an end. Before that, I had hoped to do so! I so wanted to study for at least six months. See who the students are: what books they read, what libraries they want. For me, after the deaf Mordovian village and Afgan, studying at the Leningrad University was almost like a flight into space.
And I was again saved by the woman who helped with the composition. She saw how we fought with the teacher. He leaves the classroom, returns and says to the mischievous teacher: "You are on the phone at the dean's office." She left. And this one to me: "Quickly come here!" I grabbed my papers and run up. She takes my pen and quickly writes down what she needed to solve in grammar. Then he gives me a "three". And that's enough for me - after the army, I could pass all the exams for "troikas" and enter. I run out of the audience - she comes back. - "Where are you going?". - "I already passed." - “How did you pass it? Come on, let's go back! " He comes in and asks: "Who did he rent to?" - "I handed over". - "And why?". “I’m a teacher just like you. And in general, not here, in front of the applicants, it is necessary to find out, but in the dean's office. " (Then, from the harmful teacher at the preparatory faculty, I got it anyway, she kept giving me "marks" all the time. Because of this, I even had to transfer to another group.)
I handed in the history myself. But there is an English exam ahead! We handed it over together with Andrey Kachurov, he was from the 345th regiment of our division. Andrey asks: "Do you know English?" - “What are you doing! Where?". “And I don’t know anything at all. First they taught us German at school, then like English. " They began to look for a suitable teacher in the commission. It seems like a normal man … They began to draw lots on matches, who would go first. Dropped to Andrey.
He sat down at the table, they talked about something. Then Andrey turns to me and shows his thumb - everything is fine! And I immediately bullet in his place! I sit down. The teacher began to speak to me something in English. I don't understand … I tell him: "You know, I only understand Afghan …". - "Also, perhaps," Afghan "?". - “Yes, we served together with Andrey. But I was more fortunate - he has no leg. " - "How without a leg?" - “His leg was blown off by a mine, he walks on a prosthesis. We were discharged six months ago. " The teacher started asking me about Afghan, he was very interested in listening to me. We sat for a while, talked (not in English, of course!). Then he says: “Well, okay. I'll give you a three. This is enough for you to enter after the army. But I think that you will soon be kicked out. " - "Yes, I understand! But for me the admission itself is already the height of my dream! " This is how Andrei and I entered the preparatory faculty of the law faculty.
But when I studied for several months, my liver ached. At first they thought it was hepatitis. But then they found another disease. In February 1988, I was admitted to the hospital. I lay there until August: after the liver, my kidneys, heart, back ached …
While I was in the hospital, I was expelled from the preparatory faculty. I left the hospital, but I don't have a residence permit, I don't have a job … I can't do anything after several months of illness. And in general, after the army, my soul was literally torn to pieces. On the one hand, I worked at a factory and tried to enter the law faculty. But at the same time I was so eager to go back to Afghanistan! He even went to the Central Committee of the Komsomol in Moscow, tried to get the shipment through them. But it turned out that nothing happened either with Afghanistan or with my studies … And at some point I lost the meaning of life. Once he even went up to the sixteenth floor of the house, sat on the edge of the roof, and hung his legs down. And there was no fear - all that was left was to jump off. But the Lord saved me this time too, the thought came: “How so? The Lord saved me there so many times, but I want to commit suicide?!. It's a sin! And then I immediately came to my senses. It became scary, jumped back. But still, my nervous system malfunctioned. I ended up in a neurosis clinic.
I have a dream in the clinic. (Now, when I see Afghanistan in my dreams, I am glad. Immediately after Afgan I had screams at night, but not very often.) In my dreams I walk along Nevsky Prospekt and see a travel agency near the Griboyedov Canal. I went in, and there was an announcement: a trip to Afghanistan. I want to go! Are there more places ?!Answer: "Yes." I bought a ticket, got on the bus, and we drove off. I found myself in Termez - and woke up …
The next day - the dream continues exactly from the place where it ended yesterday. We crossed the border and got to Puli-Khumri. The places are familiar. Then I woke up again. The next night in a dream I drove to Kunduz, then we drove through Salang. And so, three days later I ended up in Kabul again. And so consecutively the dream lasted fourteen days! In Kabul, I came to my unit, met friends, asked for combat. And on the battlefield we were surrounded! They were all killed, I was left alone … Then my roommate wakes me up - at six in the morning I began to pull the bed. I went to the doctor. He reassured me: "Everything is fine, nothing terrible will happen in a dream."
I say to my neighbor: "You get up early, look after me." He got up at five in the morning, the roommates also woke up. And on time - I rush across the bed, drenched in sweat, wet. They ask: "What was there?" Me: “I fell down into the abyss, grabbed the root of a tree. Three hundred meters below me. I threw away my backpack, threw away my rifle. Then the spooks came up and wanted to shoot. Then they began to stomp on the toes with their feet, so that I fell myself. And when they began to burn their fingers with cigarettes, Tolya (this is my neighbor) woke me up."
On the same day I went outside for a walk. I went to the Optina Pustyn courtyard on the embankment of Lieutenant Schmidt, there was then a children's skating rink. But he still prayed: “Lord, help! I'm afraid!..". And he decided not to go to bed at all that night, and he sat there almost until the morning with a book. I read and read, I feel - I fall asleep. He relied on the will of God and still went to bed. And Tolik did not sleep, and sat next to me. Says: “Six in the morning - you breathe, half past six - you breathe. And I decided not to wake you up. " At seven he pushes: "Vityok, are you alive?" Me: "Yes, everything is fine." He: "Did you have a dream?" Me: "No-her-oo!..". Jumped up: "Tolya, thank you!" I went to the doctor: “Thank you! You saved me! " Before that, I was eager to go to Afghanistan for a whole year. And then I calmed down, and my illness also began to recede. And in general, from that moment on, my life began to change.
I tried to recover at the preparatory department. But according to the rules, it was impossible, it was possible to enter there only once. But already the vice-rector was imbued with my problems, and the Komsomol committee supported me. As a result, I was reinstated. But in the group of the Faculty of History. There were no more preparatory places at the law faculty.
I passed my final exams in preparatory studies and entered the first year of history faculty. But the words of the major that I need to go to law school sunk deep into my soul. I began to seek a transfer to the law faculty. I got to the rector. But it was almost impossible to get an appointment with him. Here the guys from the trade union committee, with whom I became friends, say: "We will distract the secretary, and you will go to the office." Of course, it was a gamble. But they did just that: the secretary went away somewhere, and I entered the office. And there is a big meeting! All vice-rectors, deans of faculties, deputy deans are sitting.
The rector asks: “What's the matter? What did you want?". - "I want to transfer to the law school." - "Now the meeting, then come in." - “Yes, I can’t come in later, they don’t let me see you. I now need to resolve this issue. " - "Get out!" - “I won't go out! I served in Afghanistan. Can you make a small exception for me? At least listen to me. " - "OK. If you don’t want to go out, tell me.” I tell you: I entered, was ill for a long time, recovered, but only at the history faculty. I want to go to law school. The rector says: “But we have already allocated everything, in a few days the classes will begin. So, deputy deans of the history faculty and law faculty, go to the faculty, take his card and bring it to me. I will sign. Let him be enrolled in law school as an "eternal student." And then we will transfer his scholarship from the Faculty of History to the Faculty of Law”.
Three of us went for the card: me and two deputy deans. We go along the corridor, the deputy dean of the law faculty says to me: “Boy, you've got us all so tired! You can't even hold out for half a year! I will expel you at the first session. " And I'm so happy! I think: "Yes, I would have to study for at least six months!"
They found my card, the rector signed it, gave it to the chief accountant. And I was transferred to law school! The trade union congratulates me, the Komsomol members congratulate me. And after a while I was elected the head of the course, included in the student council. Even the deputy dean changed his mind about expelling me: “Why did I run into you like that? You, it turns out, are our people! This good relationship with everyone saved me later.
I started studying at the law school. It was at that time that a friend of mine asked me to write down my memories. He began to write with pleasure. But while I was writing, I could not study. I take a textbook, leaf through, read. Twenty pages later I understand that I did not understand anything at all and did not remember anything. It turns out that I spent all this time mentally in Afghanistan. And this is the first year of the Faculty of Law of the Leningrad University, where everything must be taught and crammed! But I can't: I'm a country guy who studied for deuces at school. There is no knowledge whatsoever.
I have developed a special schedule: go to bed at nine in the evening, get up at twelve at night. I take a cold shower, drink coffee and go to the Red Corner. I try to study there until five in the morning. But for six months I have not been able to really remember anything! In the first session, there were only two exams, I barely passed them with Cs. Everyone is ashamed of me, but I can't help myself …
Then I began to study in a paratrooper way: if I can't remember, I take a stick and hit myself on the hand, on the leg. I put two chairs, lay my head on one, legs - on the other and strain my muscles as much as I can! All the same, nothing turns out … I memorize three to five words maximum in English - I forget everything in the morning. It was a real nightmare!..
At some point, I finally realized a terrible thing: I won't be able to study at all … I closed the book I was reading and said to myself: “Lord, I don't know what to do next! I won't go to Afghanistan, but I can't study. How to continue to live - I do not know … . And at that moment a miracle happened! I was sitting with my eyes closed and suddenly I thoroughly see the two pages that I read last! I see everything word for word, with commas, with periods, with quotes. I open the book and look - everything is correct! Can not be! I read other pages, close my eyes - and I also see them in front of me. I read two hundred points of historical dates - I see everything!
And after that I had such a breakthrough in my studies that until the fifth year I studied practically only with excellent marks. One exam from the first session went into a diploma, so I retaken it in the fifth year. And he burned his recorded Afghan memories. I realized that now what is more important to me than what was.
The university was attended by Americans who lived in a hostel with us. Once they were invited to visit, to the "rushn party". I was a reliable and positive person in all respects, so they just in case invited me with them. We arrived at a communal apartment somewhere near the Vladimirskaya metro station. In the corridor, I met a girl who also lived here. We talked, went into her room. And then I see a whole iconostasis in the corner! I tell her: “You are a candidate of sciences, psychologist! Do you believe in God? " She: "Yes, I do." - "And you go to church?" - "Yes, I do." - "Take me with you!".
On Saturday we met at the Narvskaya metro station and went to the courtyard of the Valaam monastery. She showed me the priest and said that I could confess to him. I had no idea about any confession. I say to the priest: “I don't know anything. You name me sins, and I will say - is there or not. " He began to consistently name sins. I stopped him at some point: “I fought in Afghanistan, I was a sniper. It was as if he killed someone. " He sent everyone away, and he confessed me for the entire service, an hour and a half. And I was crying for almost the entire hour and a half. For me it was inconceivable: the paratroopers never cry! But this is how it happened …
After confession, I received the Holy Mysteries of Christ and after the service I went to the metro alone, Tatiana remained. And suddenly I catch myself feeling that I am walking and as if I am rising half a meter into the air! I even looked down - am I walking normally? Of course, I walked normally. But I had a clear feeling that some incredible weight had come off me, which was hanging around my neck with a huge weight and pulling me to the ground. Only earlier, for some reason, I did not notice this severity …
Fifteen minutes long …
In my last year at university, I already worked as the head of the legal department at a large bank. After a few years, he quit and got a job in a construction company. She was building houses. Three months later, it became clear that the campaign was in some serious trouble. They received a large order, received huge budget money for it, billions of rubles. And this money was gone …
I was their head of the legal department and a member of the Board of Directors. Somehow bandits came to a meeting of the council, about twenty or thirty people. All offsuit, all with their own guards. I finally figured out what it smelled like … Immediately after the meeting, I went to the staff and formalized my dismissal. But during these three months I was not paid my salary upon dismissal. I gave it up, took my laptop and walked through the industrial zone to the nearest metro.
After a while, I learned that they had killed the director of the enterprise, killed deputies, killed someone else. Six months have passed. Somehow I leave the entrance of the house where I lived. Here two guys take me by the arms, and the third one rested a pistol in my back from behind. The car is parked nearby. They pushed me into it, and we drove off. I found myself in a bunker: reinforced concrete walls, an iron door. An iron table, a chair … In the corner of the bunker there are stains on the floor, like dried blood. Everything is like in a movie about gangsters …
They put me on a chair. The doors were closed, the lights turned on. The four of the bandits themselves sat down at the table. One took out a pistol, loaded it and placed it in front of him. Says: "Where is the money?" Me: “I don’t understand at all what the conversation is about! What kind of money? " - “Do you have five minutes? Where is the money? " - "But what is the situation connected with?" - “Money was transferred to such and such an enterprise. No money left". - “So you have to ask the director, the accountant. I did not deal with financial, but legal issues there! " “They are no longer there. You are the only one left. Where did the money go? " - “I'll tell you how it was. I got a job there, worked for three months. And then I saw that something strange began to happen: they did not ask me about anything, contracts were concluded without me. I realized that this job is not for me. I have never dealt with criminals and will never have. Therefore, I quit. They also haven't paid me money for these three months. " - "So you don't know anything?" - "I do not know". - "The last word?". - "Last thing". And suddenly I clearly felt that I was going to be killed right now. And if by some miracle not now, then it will be impossible to hide from these bandits later. - "Is there anything else you want to say?" - "Do you want to shoot me?" - “What are the options? You are the last witness left."
I tried to say something else. But they spoke somehow inadequately, like sick people. They had no logic in their words: they spoke incomprehensibly, they depicted something on their fingers. Then I say: “Did you ask if I want to say anything else? Want. Take me to the Valaam courtyard at Narvskaya. I'm not going to run anywhere. I’ll pray there for five to ten minutes, then you can slap me. Only to this address send a message where my body is. So that later they would at least be buried like a human being. One thing is surprising to me! I was in captivity in Afghanistan, I was surrounded. And he returned alive. But it turns out that I will lie down from the bullet of my own people, not spooks. When could I think this ?! But I'm not afraid of the bullet. This is my last word."
Here one says: "What, did you serve in Afghanistan?" - "Yes". - "Where?". - "In the" fifty kopecks ". - "And where is the fifty kopeck piece?" - "In Kabul". - "Where in Kabul?" - "Near the airfield". - "And what is there next?" - "Airfield, shooting range". - "And what are the names there?" - "Paimunar". - "And how is the part located, in what place?" - "At the very end of the airfield." - "Where exactly? What else is there? "- "Here is a transit point, here is our fence, here is an artillery unit, here the tankers are standing." The bandit says to his own: "He's not lying." Then he asks: "Who was he?" - "Sniper". - "Sniper?!.". - "Well, yes…". - "What did you shoot from?" - "From the eswedeshki". - "What does the direct shot range consist of?" I tell him the tactical and technical data of the SVD. Asks: "How many killed?" I have named some figure. One bandit was very amused by this. He says to another: “Yes, he is cooler than you! You just failed twelve people! " Then the one who asked me says: "Now I will come." And he left somewhere …
I sit awaiting the final verdict. But at that moment I was already thinking about something completely different. I was not thinking about life, not that I had to do some work. And I thought: “Wow! How much in life everything is not important! I fumbling, fiddling about … But it turns out that nothing is needed! I am going to die now, and I will not take anything with me."
Then the bandit returned and said: “I told the foreman that we are not killing our own people. He gave permission to let you go. After all, we now know for sure that you do not know anything. Free! " I ask: "And what should I do now?" - "Let's go to". We climbed the stairs and found ourselves in a restaurant. I recognized him, this is the very center of the city. It turns out that there was a bunker in the basement of this restaurant. The bandits ordered food and ate a little themselves. Then they say: "You can eat in peace." We got up and left.
I couldn't eat. He sat, sat … Thoughts were very far away. For two hours, probably, he drank tea and reflected on life: “Wow! I was again one step away from death … So she walks around me: back and forth, back and forth. Then he turned off the phone and went for a walk around the city. I went to the church, sat there for two hours, prayed. Then he went to a cafe and ate. He returned home only at night.
And I drew attention to one important thing for me. Communication with the bandits in the bunker lasted only ten to fifteen minutes. But I felt that these fifteen minutes changed me radically again. As I was born again, I began to think in a completely different way. I realized that I had to be ready to die at any moment. And to leave so that it would not be ashamed to leave, so that the conscience was clear.
Then I found myself on the brink of life and death several times. Once I won a lawsuit, and the bandits wanted to shoot me for this. Then, through no fault of my own, I did not win the case, and they also wanted to shoot me for that. In 1997, upon returning from America, all of our aircraft's engines failed. (We fell into the ocean in absolute silence, I began to recite prayers for the sake of death. But just before the water, one engine started up in the plane.) And in 2004, I fell ill with a hopeless fatal disease. But after the communion of the Holy Mysteries of Christ, the next day he woke up healthy. And in the end I clearly realized: in a hopeless situation, a person often remains alive only because he is ready to die with dignity …
