Captain 1st Rank V. (call sign "Vietnam") reports:
- I, a submariner, became the commander of a marine company by accident. In early January 1995, I was the commander of a diving company of the Baltic Fleet, at that time the only one in the entire Navy. And then suddenly an order came: from the personnel of the units of the Leningrad naval base to form a company of marines to be sent to Chechnya. And all the infantry officers of the Vyborg antiamphibious defense regiment, who were supposed to go to war, refused. I remember that the command of the Baltic Fleet then still threatened to put them in prison for this. So what? Have they planted at least someone?.. And they told me: “You have at least some combat experience. Take the company. You are responsible for it with your head."
On the night of January 11-12, 1995, I received this company in Vyborg. And in the morning we have to fly to Baltiysk.
As soon as I arrived at the barracks of the company of the Vyborg regiment, I lined up the sailors and asked them: "Do you know that we are going to war?" And then half a company faints: "Ka-a-ak?.. For some such war!..". Then they realized how they were all deceived! It turned out that some of them were offered to enter the flight school, someone was going to another place. But here's what is interesting: for such important and responsible cases, for some reason, the best sailors were selected, for example, with disciplinary “flights” or even former offenders in general.
I remember a local major running up: “Why did you tell them that? How are we going to keep them now? " I told him: “You shut your mouth … It is better we collect them here than I later have them there. By the way, if you disagree with my decision, I can switch with you. Any questions?". The major had no more questions …
Something unimaginable began to happen to the personnel: someone was crying, someone fell into a stupor … Of course, there were just complete cowards. Out of one hundred and fifty of them, fifteen people were accumulated. Two of them even jerked out of the unit. But I don’t need these either, I wouldn’t take these myself anyway. But most of the guys were ashamed in front of their comrades, and they went to fight. In the end, ninety-nine men went to war.
The next morning I built the company again. The commander of the Leningrad naval base, Vice Admiral Grishanov, asks me: "Do you have any wishes?" I answer: “Yes. All those present here are going to die. " He: “What are you ?! This is a reserve company!.. ". Me: “Comrade commander, I know everything, this is not the first time I have seen a marching company. Here, people stay with their families, but no one has apartments”. He: "We have not thought about it … I promise we will resolve this issue." And then he kept his word: all the families of the officers received apartments.
We arrive in Baltiysk, to the Baltic Fleet Marine Brigade. The brigade itself at that time was in a dilapidated state, so that the mess in the brigade multiplied by the mess in the company ended up being a mess in the square. Neither eat well nor sleep. And after all, it was only a minimal mobilization of one fleet!..
But, thank God, the old guard of Soviet officers still remained in the Navy by that time. It was they who started the war on themselves and pulled out. But in the second "walk" (as the marines call the period of hostilities in mountainous Chechnya from May to June 1995. - Ed.), Many officers from the "new" went to war for apartments and orders. (I remember how back in Baltiysk one officer asked to join my company. But I had nowhere to take him. I then asked him: “Why do you want to go?” He: “But I don't have an apartment…”. Me: “Remember: they don’t go to the war for apartments”. This officer was later killed.)
The deputy commander of the brigade, Lieutenant Colonel Artamonov, told me: "Your company is leaving for the war in three days." And I even had to take the oath out of a hundred people twenty without a machine gun! But those who had this machine gun also left not far from them: almost no one knew how to shoot anyway.
We somehow settled down, went to the training ground. And at the range of ten grenades, two do not explode, out of ten rifle cartridges, three do not fire, they simply rotted. All these, if I may say so, ammunition was produced in 1953. And cigarettes, by the way, too. It turns out that the most ancient NZ was dug for us. It's the same story with machine guns. In the company they were still the newest - produced in 1976. By the way, the trophy submachine guns that we later took from the "spirits" were produced in 1994 …
But as a result of "intensive training", already on the third day, we conducted combat firing classes for the squad (under normal conditions, this should be done only after a year of study). This is a very difficult and serious exercise that ends with combat grenade throwing. After such a "study", all my hands were cut by splinters - this is because I had to pull down those who got to their feet at the wrong time.
But studying is still half the trouble … A company leaves for lunch. I'm doing a shmon. And I find under the beds … grenades, explosives. These are eighteen-year-old boys!.. They saw the weapon for the first time. But they did not think at all and did not understand that if it all exploded, the barracks would be blown to smithereens. Later, these soldiers told me: "Comrade commander, we do not envy you, as you had with us."
We arrive from the landfill at one in the morning. The fighters are not well fed, and no one in the brigade is going to feed them especially … Somehow they managed to get something edible. And so I fed the officers with my own money. I had two million rubles with me. This was a relatively large amount back then. For example, a pack of expensive imported cigarettes cost a thousand rubles … I can imagine what a sight it was when we burst into a cafe after a training ground with weapons and knives at night. Everyone is shocked: who are they?..
Representatives of different national diasporas immediately began to frequent in order to ransom their fellow countrymen: give the boy back, he is a Muslim and should not go to war. I remember such people driving up in a Volkswagen Passat, calling at the checkpoint: "Commander, we need to talk to you." We came with them to a cafe. They ordered such a table there!.. They say: "We will give you money, give us the boy." I listened to them attentively and answered: “I don’t need money”. I call the waitress and pay for the whole table. And I say to them: “Your boy will not go to war. I don’t need such people there!” And then the guy felt uncomfortable, he already wanted to go with everyone. But then I clearly told him: “No, I definitely don’t need one like that. Free … ".
Then I saw how people are brought together by a common misfortune and common difficulties. Gradually, my motley company began to turn into a monolith. And then in the war I did not even command, but simply cast a glance - and everyone understood me perfectly.
In January 1995, at a military airfield in the Kaliningrad region, we were loaded onto the plane three times. Twice the Baltic states did not give permission for aircraft to fly over their territory. But for the third time, they still managed to send the "Ruyev" company (one of the companies of the Baltic Fleet Marine Brigade - Ed.), But again we were not. Our company was preparing until the end of April. In the first "trip" to the war, I was the only one from the whole company, I went to replace.
For the second "flight" we had to fly on April 28, 1995, but it turned out only on May 3 (again because of the Balts, which did not let the planes pass). Thus, "TOFiki" (marines of the Pacific Fleet. - Ed.) And "northerners" (marines of the Northern Fleet. - Ed.) Arrived before us.
When it became clear that we were facing a war not in the city, but in the mountains, for some reason the mood soared in the Baltic brigade that there would be no more dead - they say, this is not Grozny in January 1995. There was some kind of false idea that a victorious walk in the mountains was ahead. But for me it was not the first war, and I had a presentiment of how everything would actually be. And then we really found out how many people in the mountains died during artillery shelling, how many - during the execution of the columns. I really hoped that no one would die. I thought: “Well, there will probably be wounded…”. And I firmly decided that before leaving, I would definitely take the company to the church.
And in the company, many were unbaptized. Among them is Seryoga Stobetsky. And remembering how my baptism changed my life, I really wanted him to be baptized. I myself was baptized late. Then I returned from a very terrible business trip. The country fell apart. My family fell apart. It was not clear what to do next. I found myself in a dead end in life … And I remember well how after baptism my soul calmed down, everything fell into place, and it became clear how I could live on. And when later I served in Kronstadt, several times I sent sailors to help the rector of the Kronstadt Cathedral of the Vladimir Icon of the Mother of God clear up the garbage. The cathedral at that time stood in ruins - after all, it was blown up twice. And then the sailors began to bring me the royal gold pieces, which they found under the ruins. They ask: "What to do with them?" Imagine: people find gold, a lot of gold … But no one even thought to take it for themselves. And I decided to give these gold pieces to the rector of the church. And it was to this church that I later came to baptize my son. At that time, Father Svyatoslav, a former "Afghan", was a priest there. I say: “I want to baptize my child. But I myself am a little believer, I don’t know prayers …”. And I remember his speech literally: “Seryoga, have you been under water? Have you been to the war? So you believe in God. Free! " And for me this moment became a turning point, I finally turned to the Church.
Therefore, before sending to the "second trip" I began to ask Seryoga Stobetsky to be baptized. And he firmly answered: "I will not be baptized." I had a premonition (and not only me) that he would not return. I didn't even want to take him to the war, but I was afraid to tell him about it - I knew that he would go anyway. Therefore, I was worried about him and really wanted him to be baptized. But nothing can be done here by force.
Through local priests, I turned to the then Metropolitan Kirill of Smolensk and Kaliningrad with a request to come to Baltiysk. And, what is most surprising, Vladyka Kirill left all his urgent matters and specially came to Baltiysk to bless us for the war.
Bright Week was just going on after Easter. When I was talking with Vladyka, he asked me: "When are you leaving?" I answer: “In a day or two. But there are unbaptized in the company. " And about twenty boys who were unbaptized and wanted to be Baptized, Vladyka Cyril baptized him personally. Moreover, the guys did not even have money for crosses, which I told Vladyka about. He replied: "Don't worry, everything here is free for you."
In the morning, almost the entire company (only those who were on guard duty and in outfits were not with us) stood at the liturgy in the cathedral in the center of Baltiysk. The Liturgy was led by Metropolitan Kirill. Then I built a company near the cathedral. Vladyka Kirill came out and sprinkled holy water on the soldiers. I also remember how I asked Metropolitan Kirill: “We are going to fight. Perhaps this is a sinful business? And he replied: “If for the Motherland - then no ».
In the church we were given icons of St. George the Victorious and the Mother of God and crosses, which were worn by almost everyone who did not have them. With these icons and crosses in a few days we went to war.
When we were seen off, the commander of the Baltic Fleet, Admiral Yegorov, ordered to set the table. At the Chkalovsk airfield, the company lined up, the soldiers were given tokens. Lieutenant Colonel Artamonov, deputy brigade commander, took me aside and said: “Seryoga, come back, please. Would you like brandy? " Me: “No, don't. Better when I return. " And when I went to the plane, I felt rather than saw how Admiral Yegorov baptized me …
At night we flew to Mozdok (a military base in North Ossetia.- Ed.). There is complete confusion. I gave my team the command to put up security, just in case, get sleeping bags and go to bed right next to the takeoff. The guys managed to take a nap at least a little before the upcoming restless night already in positions.
On May 4 we were transferred to Khankala. There we sit down on the armor and go in a column to Germenchug near Shali, at the position of the TOFIK battalion.
We arrived at the place - there was no one … Our future positions more than a kilometer long are scattered along the Dzhalka River. And I only have a little more than twenty fighters. If then the "spirits" attacked immediately, then we would have had to be very hard. Therefore, we tried not to reveal ourselves (no shooting) and began to slowly settle down. But no one even thought of sleeping that first night.
And they did the right thing. That very night we were fired upon by a sniper for the first time. We covered the fires, but the soldiers decided to light a cigarette. The bullet passed only twenty centimeters from Stas Golubev: he stood there in a trance for some time, his ill-fated cigarette fell on the armor and was smoking …
In these positions, we were constantly fired upon from both the village and some unfinished factory. But then we removed the sniper at the plant from AGS (automatic easel grenade launcher. - Ed.).
The next day the entire battalion arrived. It became kind of more fun. We were engaged in additional equipment of positions. I immediately established the usual routine: getting up, exercising, divorcing, physical training. Many looked at me with great surprise: in the field, charging looked somehow, to put it mildly, exotic. But after three weeks, when we went to the mountains, everyone understood what, why and why: daily exercises gave results - I did not lose a single person on the march. But in other companies, the fighters, physically not ready for wild loads, simply fell off their feet, lagged behind and got lost …
In May 1995, a moratorium on the conduct of hostilities was declared. Everyone drew attention to the fact that these moratoriums were announced exactly when the "spirits" needed time to get ready. There were skirmishes anyway - if they shot at us, we would answer. But we did not go forward. But when this truce ended, we began to move in the direction of Shali-Agishty-Makhkety-Vedeno.
By that time, there were data from both aerial reconnaissance and close reconnaissance stations. Moreover, they turned out to be so accurate that with their help it was possible to find a shelter for a tank in the mountain. My scouts confirmed: indeed, at the entrance to the gorge in the mountain there is a shelter with a meter layer of concrete. The tank drives out of this concrete cave, shoots in the direction of the Group and drives back. It is useless to shoot artillery at such a structure. They got out of the situation like this: they called the aviation and dropped some very powerful aviation bomb on the tank.
On May 24, 1995, artillery preparation began, absolutely all the barrels woke up. And on the same day, as many as seven minutes flew to our location from our own "non" (self-propelled mortar. - Ed.). I can't say exactly for what reason, but some of the mines, instead of flying along the calculated trajectory, began to tumble. A trench was dug along the road on the site of the former drainage system. And the mine hits just this trench (Sasha Kondrashov is sitting there) and explodes!.. With horror I think: there must be a corpse … I run up - thank God, Sasha is sitting, holding on to his leg. The splinter knocked off a piece of stone, and with this stone part of the muscle in his leg was ripped out. And this is on the eve of the battle. He doesn't want to go to the hospital … They sent me anyway. But he caught up with us near Duba-Yurt. It's good that nobody else was hooked.
On the same day, a "grad" approaches me. The captain of the Marine Corps, "TOFovets", runs out of it, asks: "Can I stay with you?" I answer: "Well, wait …". It never occurred to me that these guys would start shooting!.. And they drove off thirty meters to the side and fire a volley!.. It seems that they hit me in the ears with a hammer! I told him: "What are you doing!..". He: "So you allowed …". They covered their ears with cotton wool …
On May 25, almost all of our company was already at the TPU (rear command post - Ed.) Of the battalion south of Shali. Only the 1st platoon (reconnaissance) and the mortars were pushed forward close to the mountains. The mortars were put forward because the regimental "nones" and "acacias" (self-propelled howitzer. - Ed.) Could not shoot close. The "spirits" took advantage of this: they would hide behind a nearby mountain, where the artillery could not reach them, and made sorties from there. This is where our mortars came in handy.
Early in the morning we heard a battle in the mountains. It was then that the "spirits" bypassed the 3rd airborne assault company "TOFIK" from the rear. We ourselves were afraid of such a detour. The next night I did not go to bed at all, but walked in circles in my positions. The day before, a fighter "Severyanin" came out on us, but mine did not notice him and let him pass. I remember that I got terribly angry - I thought that I would simply kill everyone!.. After all, if the "northerner" calmly passed, then what can we say about the "spirits"?..
At night, I sent sergeant Edik Musikayev's castle platoon with the guys forward to see where we were supposed to move. They saw two destroyed "spirit" tanks. The guys brought with them a couple of whole trophy submachine guns, although usually the "spirits" took away the weapon after the battle. But here, probably, the skirmish was so fierce that these submachine guns were either thrown or lost. In addition, we found grenades, mines, captured a "spirit" machine gun, a smooth-bore BMP gun mounted on a self-made chassis.
On May 26, 1995, the active phase of the offensive began: "TOFiki" and "northerners" fought forward along the Shali gorge. The "spirits" prepared very well for our meeting: they had echeloned positions equipped - dugout systems, trenches. (Later we even found old dugouts from the Patriotic War, which the "spirits" converted into firing points. And what else was especially bitter: the militants "magically" knew exactly the time of the start of the operation, the location of the troops and delivered preemptive artillery tank strikes.)
It was then that my soldiers first saw the returning MTLB (light armored multipurpose tractor - Ed.) With the wounded and dead (they were taken out directly through us). They matured in one day.
"TOFIK" and "northerners" rested … They did not even half of the task for this day. Therefore, on the morning of May 27, I receive a new command: to move together with the battalion to the area of the cement plant near Duba-Yurt. The command decided not to send our Baltic battalion head-on through the gorge (I don’t even know how many of us would remain with such a development of events), but to send it bypassing in order to go to the “spirits” in the rear. The battalion was tasked with passing through the right flank through the mountains and taking first Agishty, and then Makhkety. And it was precisely for such actions of ours that the militants were completely unprepared! And the fact that a whole battalion would go in the mountains to the rear, they could not even dream of in a nightmare!..
By thirteen o'clock on May 28, we moved to the area of the cement plant. Paratroopers from the 7th Airborne Division also approached here. And then we hear the sound of a "turntable"! In the gap between the trees of the gorge, a helicopter appears, painted with some kind of dragons (it was clearly visible through binoculars). And all, without saying a word, open fire in that direction from grenade launchers! The helicopter was far away, about three kilometers, and we could not get it. But the pilot, it seems, saw this barrage and quickly flew away. We did not see any more "spiritual" helicopters.
According to the plan, the paratroopers' scouts were to go first. They are followed by the 9th company of our battalion and becomes a checkpoint. For the 9th - our 7th company and also becomes a checkpoint. And my 8th company must go through all the checkpoints and take Agishty. For reinforcement I was given a "mortar", a sapper platoon, an artillery spotter and an aircraft controller.
Seryoga Stobetsky, the commander of the 1st reconnaissance platoon, and I are beginning to think about how we will go. We began to prepare for the exit. We arranged additional physical lessons (although we already had them every day from the very beginning). We also decided to hold a competition to equip the store for speed. After all, each soldier has ten to fifteen stores with him. But one magazine, if you pull the trigger and hold it, takes off in about three seconds, and life literally depends on the speed of reloading in battle.
Everyone at that moment was already well aware that ahead were not the skirmishes that we had the day before. Everything said about it: there were scorched skeletons of tanks around, dozens of wounded emerge through our positions, take out the dead … Therefore, before going to the starting point, I went up to each soldier to look him in the eye and wish him good luck. I saw how some of them had stomach twisting with fear, some even wet themselves … But I do not consider these manifestations to be something shameful. I just remember my fear of the first fight very well! In the area of the solar plexus, it hurts as if you were hit in the groin, but only ten times harder! It is both acute and aching and dull pain at the same time … And you cannot do anything about it: even if you walk, even sit, and it hurts so badly in your stomach!..
When we went to the mountains, I was wearing about sixty kilograms of equipment - a bulletproof vest, an assault rifle with a grenade launcher, two ammunition (ammunition - Ed.) Grenades, one and a half ammo cartridges, grenades for the grenade launcher, two knives. The fighters are loaded the same way. But the guys from the 4th grenade and machine gun platoon dragged their AGSs (automatic easel grenade launcher. - Ed.), "Cliffs" (NSV heavy machine gun of 12, 7 mm caliber. - Ed.) And plus each two mortar mines - more ten kilograms!
I line up the company and determine the order of battle: first there is the 1st reconnaissance platoon, then the sappers and the "mortar", and the 4th platoon closes. We walk in complete darkness along the goat path, which was marked on the map. The path is narrow, only a cart could pass along it, and even then with great difficulty. I said to mine: "If someone shouts, even a wounded one, then I myself will come and strangle with my own hands …". So we walked very quietly. Even if someone fell, the maximum that was heard was an indistinct hum.
On the way, we saw "spiritual" caches. Soldiers: "Comrade commander!..". Me: “Set aside, do not touch anything. Forward!". And it’s right that we didn’t go into these caches. Later we learned about the "two hundredth" (deceased. - Ed.) And "300th" (wounded. - Ed.) In our battalion. Soldiers of the 9th company climbed into the dugouts to rummage. And no, first to throw grenades at the dugout, but went stupidly, into the open … And here's the result - warrant officer from Vyborg Volodya Soldatenkov, a bullet hit below the bulletproof vest in the groin. He died of peritonitis, he was not even taken to the hospital.
During the entire march I ran between the vanguard (reconnaissance platoon) and the rearguard ("mortar"). And our column stretched for almost two kilometers. When I came back again, I met scout paratroopers who were walking, tied with ropes. I told them: "Cool going, guys!". After all, they were walking light! But it turned out that we were ahead of everyone, the 7th and 9th companies were left far behind.
I reported to the battalion commander. He says to me: "So go to the end first." And at five in the morning, I with my reconnaissance platoon occupied the high-rise 1000.6. This was the place where the 9th company was supposed to set up a checkpoint and deploy the battalion's TPU. At seven o'clock in the morning, my entire company approached, and at about half-past seven came the reconnaissance paratroopers. And only at ten in the morning the battalion commander came with part of another company.
We walked about twenty kilometers on the map alone. Exhausted to the limit. I remember well how the whole blue-green came Seryoga Starodubtsev from the 1st platoon. He fell to the ground and lay motionless for two hours. And this guy is young, twenty years old … What to say about those who are older.
All plans went wrong. The battalion commander tells me: "You go forward, in the evening you occupy a height in front of Agishty and report." Let's go ahead. The scouts-paratroopers passed and moved further along the road indicated on the map. But the maps were from the sixties, and this path was marked on it without a bend! As a result, we got lost and went along another, new road, which was not on the map at all.
The sun is still high. I see a huge village in front of me. I look at the map - it's definitely not Agishty. I say to the aircraft controller: “Igor, we are not where we should be. Let's figure it out. As a result, they figured out that they had come to the Makhkets. From us to the village a maximum of three kilometers. And this is the task of the second day of the offensive!..
I'm getting in touch with the battalion commander. I say: “Why do I need these Agishts? It's almost fifteen kilometers to go back to them! And I have a whole company, a "mortar", and even sappers, there are two hundred of us in total. I've never fought with such a crowd! Come on, I'll rest and take the Mahkety. " Indeed, the fighters by that time could no longer walk more than five hundred meters in a row. After all, on each - from sixty to eighty kilograms. A fighter will sit down, but he cannot get up himself …
Combat: "Back!" An order is an order - we turn around and go back. The reconnaissance platoon went first. And as it turned out later, we were right at the place where the "spirits" came out. "TOFiki" and "northerners" pressed on them in two directions at once, and the "spirits" retreated in two groups of several hundred people on both sides of the gorge …
We returned to the bend from which we took the wrong road. And then the battle begins behind us - our 4th grenade and machine gun platoon was ambushed! It all started with a direct collision. The fighters, bending under the weight of everything that they were dragging on themselves, saw some kind of "bodies". Ours make two conventional shots into the air (in order to somehow distinguish ours from strangers, I ordered a piece of vest to be sewn on my arm and leg and agreed with ours about the signal "friend or foe": two shots into the air - two shots in response) … And in response, ours get two shots to kill! The bullet hits Sasha Ognev in the arm and breaks the nerve. He screams in pain. The physician Gleb Sokolov turned out to be a fine fellow: the "spirits" hit him, and he bandages the wounded at this time!..
Captain Oleg Kuznetsov rushed to the 4th platoon. I told him: “Where! There is a platoon commander, let him figure it out himself. You have a company, a mortar and sappers! " I set up a barrier of five or six fighters on the high-rise with the commander of the 1st platoon Seryoga Stobetsky, the rest of them I give the command: "Move back and dig in!"
And then the battle begins with us - it was from below we were fired upon from grenade launchers. We walked along the ridge. In the mountains it is like this: whoever is higher wins. But not at this time. The fact is that huge burdocks grew below. From above we see only green leaves, from which pomegranates fly out, and the "spirits" through the stems see us perfectly.
Just at that moment, the extreme fighters from the 4th platoon were retreating past me. I still remember how Edik Kolechkov walked. He walks along a narrow ledge of the slope and carries two PK (Kalashnikov machine gun. - Ed.). And then bullets start flying around him!.. I shout: "Go to the left!..". And he is so exhausted that he cannot even turn off this ledge, he just spread his legs to the sides so as not to fall, and therefore continues to walk straight …
There is nothing to do at the top, and I and the fighters go into these damned mugs. Volodya Shpilko and Oleg Yakovlev were the most extreme in the chain. And then I see: a grenade explodes next to Volodya, and he falls … Oleg immediately rushed to pull Volodya out and died immediately. Oleg and Volodya were friends …
The battle lasted five to ten minutes. We did not reach the initial one only three hundred meters and retreated to the position of the 3rd platoon, which had already dug in. The paratroopers stood nearby. And then Seryoga Stobetsky comes, he himself is blue-black, and says: "Spiers" and "Bull" no … ".
I am creating four groups of four or five people, sniper Zhenya Metlikin (nicknamed "Uzbek") was planted in the bushes just in case and went to pull out the dead, although this, of course, was an obvious gamble. On the way to the battle site, we see a "body" that flickers in the forest. I look through binoculars - and this is a "spirit" in a homemade armor coat, all hung with body armor. It turns out that they are waiting for us. We come back.
I ask the commander of the 3rd platoon Gleb Degtyarev: "Are you all?" He: "There is no one … Metlikin …". How could you lose one in five people? This is not one of thirty!.. I come back, go out onto the path - and then they start shooting at me!.. That is, the "spirits" were really waiting for us. I'm back again. I shout: "Metlikin!"Silence: "Uzbek!" And then he just seemed to rise from under me. Me: "Why are you sitting, don't you come out?" He: “I thought it was the“spirits”who came. Maybe they know my last name. But they cannot know for sure about "Uzbek". So I went out."
The result of this day was as follows: after the first battle, I myself counted only sixteen corpses of the "spirits" that had not been carried away. We lost Tolik Romanov and Ognev was wounded in the arm. The second battle - seven corpses of the "spirits", we have two dead, no one is wounded. We were able to pick up the bodies of the two victims the next day, and Tolik Romanov only two weeks later.
Dusk fell. I report to the battalion commander: "mortar" at the high-rise at the starting point, I'm three hundred meters above them. We decided to spend the night at the same site where we ended up after the battle. The place seemed convenient: on the right in the direction of our movement - a deep cliff, on the left - a smaller cliff. In the middle there is a hill and a tree in the center. I decided to settle there - from there, like Chapaev, everything around was clearly visible to me. We dug in, set up security. Everything seems to be quiet …
And then the reconnaissance major of the paratroopers began to make a fire. He wanted to warm up near the fire. Me: "What are you doing?" And when he went to bed later, he again warned the major: "Carcasses!" But it was on this fire that the mines flew in a few hours later. And so it happened: some burned the fire, and others perished …
At about three in the morning, Degtyarev woke up: “Your shift. I need to get some sleep. You stay for the elder. If the attack is from below, don't shoot, only grenades. I take off my bulletproof vest and RD (paratrooper backpack. - Ed.), Cover them up and lie down on a hill. In the RD I had twenty grenades. These grenades saved me later.
I woke up with a sharp sound and a flash of fire. It was very close to me that two mines exploded from the "cornflower" (Soviet automatic mortar of 82 mm caliber. The loading is cassette, four mines are placed in the cassette. - Ed.). (This mortar was installed on the UAZ, which we later found and blew up.)
I was immediately deaf in my right ear. At the first moment I cannot understand anything. All around the wounded are groaning. Everyone is yelling, shooting … Almost simultaneously with the explosions, they began to fire at us from both sides, and also from above. Apparently, the "spirits" wanted to take us by surprise immediately after the shelling. But the fighters were ready and immediately repulsed this attack. The fight turned out to be fleeting, lasted only ten to fifteen minutes. When the "spirits" realized that they could not take us by hand, they just walked away.
If I had not gone to bed, then perhaps such a tragedy would not have happened. After all, before these two damned mines there were two sighting shots from a mortar. And if one mine arrives, that's bad. But if there are two, it means that they are taking the plug. For the third time, two mines in a row flew in and fell just five meters from the fire, which became a reference point for the "spirits".
And only after the shooting had stopped, I turned around and saw … At the site of the mine explosions lay a bunch of wounded and killed … Six people died at once, more than twenty were seriously wounded. I looked: Seryoga Stobetsky was lying dead, Igor Yakunenkov was dead. Of the officers, only Gleb Degtyarev and I survived, plus the aircraft controller. It was terrifying to look at the wounded: Seryoga Kulmin had a hole in his forehead and his eyes were flat, leaked out. Sasha Shibanov has a huge hole in his shoulder, Edik Kolechkov has a huge hole in his lung, a splinter flew there …
RD saved me myself. When I began to lift it, several fragments fell out of it, one of which hit directly into the grenade. But the grenades were, of course, without fuses …
I remember very well the very first moment: I see Seryoga Stobetsky torn apart. And then from the inside everything starts to rise to my throat. But I say to myself: “Stop! You are the commander, take everything back! I don’t know by what effort of will, but it worked out … But I was able to approach him only at six o'clock in the evening, when I calmed down a little. And he ran all day: the wounded were groaning, the soldiers had to be fed, the shelling continued …
The seriously wounded began to die almost immediately. Vitalik Cherevan was dying especially terribly. A part of his body was torn off, but he lived for about half an hour. Glass eyes. Sometimes something human appears for a second, then it turns glass again … His first cry after the explosions was: "Vietnam", help!.. ". He turned to me for "you"! And then: "Vietnam", shoot … ". (I remember how later, at one of our meetings, his father grabbed me by the breasts, shook me and kept asking: “Why didn't you shoot him, why didn't you shoot him?..” But I couldn't do it, I couldn't could …)
But (what a miracle of God!) Many of the wounded, who should have died, survived. Seryozha Kulmin was lying next to me, head to head. He had such a hole in his forehead that he could see his brains!.. So he not only survived - his eyesight was even restored! True, he now walks with two titanium plates in his forehead. And Misha Blinov had a hole about ten centimeters in diameter above his heart. He also survived, he now has five sons. And Pasha Chukhnin from our company now has four sons.
We have zero water for ourselves, even for the wounded!.. I had with me pantacid tablets and chlorine tubes (disinfectants for water. - Ed.). But there is nothing to disinfect … Then they remembered that they had walked through the impassable mud the day before. The soldiers began to strain out this mud. It was very difficult to call what was obtained as water. A muddy goo with sand and tadpoles … But there was still no other.
The whole day they tried to somehow help the wounded. The day before, we had smashed the "spirit" dugout, which contained powdered milk. They made a fire, and this "water", extracted from the mud, began to stir with dry milk and give to the wounded. We ourselves drank the same water with sand and tadpoles to a sweet soul. I told the fighters in general that tadpoles are very useful - squirrels … No one even had disgust. At first, they threw pantacid into it for disinfection, and then they drank it just like that …
And the Group does not give the go-ahead for evacuation by "turntables". We are in a dense forest. The helicopters have nowhere to sit … During the next negotiations on the "turntables" I remembered: I have an aircraft controller! "Where is the pilot?" We are looking, we are looking, but we can not find it in our patch. And then I turn around and see that he dug a full-length trench with a helmet and is sitting in it. I don’t understand how he got the earth out of the trench! I couldn't even get through there.
Although the helicopters were forbidden to hover, one commander of the "turntable" still said: "I will hang." I gave the order to the sappers to clear the area. We had the explosives. We blew up trees, age-old trees, in three girths. They began to prepare three wounded for dispatch. One, Alexei Chacha, was hit by a splinter on his right leg. He has a huge hematoma and cannot walk. I prepare it for dispatch, and leave Seryozha Kulmin with a broken head. The medical instructor in horror asks me: "How?.. Comrade commander, why aren't you sending him?" I answer: “I will definitely save these three. But I don’t know the “heavy” ones …”. (For the fighters it was a shock that the war has its own terrible logic. They save here, first of all, those who can be saved.)
But our hopes were not destined to come true. We never evacuated anyone by helicopters. In the Grouping, the "turntables" were given the final retreat and instead of them two columns were sent to us. But our battalion drivers on armored personnel carriers never made it. And only in the end, by nightfall, five BMD paratroopers came to us.
With so many wounded and killed, we could not move a single step. And in the late afternoon, the second wave of retreating militants began to seep. From time to time they fired at us from grenade launchers, but we already knew how to act: they just threw grenades from top to bottom.
I got in touch with the battalion commander. While we were talking, some Mamed intervened in the conversation (the connection was open, and our radio stations were caught by any scanner!). Began some kind of nonsense to carry about ten thousand dollars, which he will give us. The conversation ended with the fact that he offered to go one-on-one. Me: “Not weak! I will come. The soldiers tried to dissuade me, but I came to the appointed place really alone. But no one showed up … Although now I well understand that on my part it was, to put it mildly, reckless.
I hear the rumble of the column. I'm going to go meet. Soldiers: "Comrade commander, just don't leave, don't leave …". It is clear what the matter is: Dad is leaving, they are scared. I understand that it seems impossible to go, because as soon as the commander left, the situation becomes uncontrollable, but there is no one else to send!.. And I still went and, as it turned out, I did well! The paratroopers got lost in the same place as we did when they almost reached the Makhkets. We did meet, albeit with very big adventures …
Our medic, Major Nitchik (call sign "Doza"), the battalion commander and his deputy, Seryoga Sheiko, came with the convoy. Somehow they drove the BMD onto our patch. And then the shelling begins again … Combat: "What's going on here?" After the shelling, the "spirits" themselves climbed up. They probably decided to slip between us and our "mortar", which dug in three hundred meters at a high-rise. But we are already smart, we don't shoot from machine guns, we only throw grenades down. And then suddenly our machine gunner Sasha Kondrashov rises and gives an endless burst from the PC in the opposite direction!.. I run up: "What are you doing?" He: "Look, they have already reached us!..". And indeed, I see that the "spirits" are thirty meters away. There were many, several dozen. They wanted, most likely, to take and surround us unceremoniously. But we drove them away with grenades. They could not break through here either.
I walk with a limp all day, I can't hear well, although I don't stutter. (It seemed to me so. In fact, as the fighters told me later, he stuttered!) And at that moment I did not think at all that it was a shell shock. The whole day is running around: the wounded are dying, it is necessary to prepare an evacuation, it is necessary to feed the soldiers, the shelling is underway. Already in the evening I try to sit down for the first time - it hurts. I touched my back with my hand - blood. Paratrooper doctor: "Come on, bend over …". (This major has enormous combat experience. Before that, I saw with horror how he cut Edik Musikayev with a scalpel and said: “Don't be afraid, the meat will grow!”) And with his hand he pulled a splinter out of my back. Then such pain pierced me! For some reason, it hit my nose hardest of all!.. The major gives me a splinter: "Here, make a keychain." (The second splinter was found only recently during examination at the hospital. It is still sitting there, stuck in the spine and just barely reached the canal.)
The wounded were loaded onto the BMD, then the dead. I gave their weapons to the commander of the 3rd platoon, Gleb Degtyarev, and left him for the elder. And I myself went with the wounded and killed to the regiment's medical battalion.
We all looked terrible: we were all interrupted, bandaged, covered in blood. But … at the same time, everyone is in polished shoes and with cleaned weapons. (By the way, we did not lose a single barrel; we even found the submachine guns of all our killed.)
There were about twenty-five wounded, most of them were seriously wounded. They handed them over to doctors. The most difficult thing remained - sending the dead. The problem was that some of them did not have documents with them, so I ordered my fighters to write their last name on each hand and put notes with the last name in their pants pocket. But when I started checking, it turned out that Stas Golubev had mixed up the notes! I immediately imagined what would happen when the body arrives at the hospital: one thing is written on the hand, and another is written in a piece of paper! I twitch the shutter and think: I will kill him now … I myself am amazed now at my rage at that moment … Apparently, such was the reaction to the tension, and the concussion also affected. (Now Stas does not hold any grudge against me for this. After all, they were all boys at all and were afraid to approach the corpses at all …)
And then the medical colonel gives me fifty grams of alcohol with ether. I drink this alcohol … and I hardly remember anything else … Then everything was like in a dream: either I washed myself, or they washed me … I only remembered: there was a warm shower.
I woke up: I was lying on a stretcher in front of the "turntable" in a clean blue RB (disposable linen - Ed.) Of a submariner and they load me into this "turntable". First thought: "What about the company?..". After all, the commanders of platoons, squads and zamkomplatoons either died or were wounded. There were only fighters left … And as soon as I imagined what would happen in the company, the hospital immediately disappeared for me. I shout to Igor Meshkov: "Leave the hospital!" (It seemed to me then that I was screaming. In fact, he barely heard my whisper.) He: “I have to leave the hospital. Give back the commander! " And he begins to pull the stretcher back from the helicopter. The captain who received me in the helicopter does not give me the stretcher. The "bag" adjusts its armored personnel carrier, points at the "turntable" KPVT (heavy machine gun. - Ed.): "Give the commander …". Those freaked out: "Yes, take it!..". And it so happened that my documents without me flew to the MOSN (special medical unit. - Ed.), Which later had very serious consequences …
As I later found out, it was like this. The "turntable" arrives at MOSN. It contains my documents, but the stretcher is empty, there is no body … And my torn clothes lie nearby. MOSN decided that since there was no body, I was burnt. As a result, St. Petersburg receives a telephone message addressed to the deputy commander of the Leningrad naval base, Captain I Rank Smuglin: "Lieutenant-Commander such and such died." But Smuglin knows me from the lieutenants! He began to think about what to do, how to bury me. In the morning I phoned Captain I Rank Toporov, my immediate commander: “Prepare a load of two hundred. Toporov told me later: “I come into the office, take out the cognac - my hands are shaking. I pour it into a glass - and then the bell rings. Fraction, set aside - he is alive! ". It turned out that when the body of Sergei Stobetsky came to the base, they began to look for mine. And my body, of course, does not exist! They called Major Rudenko: "Where is the body?" He replies: “What a body! I saw him myself, he is alive!"
And in fact, this is what happened to me. In my blue underwear of a submariner, I took a submachine gun, sat with the soldiers on an APC and drove to Agishty. The battalion commander has already been informed that I was sent to the hospital. When he saw me, he was delighted. Here also Yura Rudenko returned with humanitarian aid. His father died, and he left the war to bury him.
I come to my own. The company is a mess. There is no security, weapons are scattered, the soldiers have a "razulyevo" … I say to Gleb: "What a mess ?!" He: “Why, all around ours! That's all and relax … ". Me: "So relaxed for the fighters, not for you!" He began to put things in order, and everything quickly returned to its former course.
Just then the humanitarian aid arrived, which Yura Rudenko had brought: bottled water, food!.. The soldiers drank this soda water in packages - they washed their stomachs. This is after that water with sand and tadpoles! I myself drank six one and a half liter bottles of water at a time. I myself do not understand how all this water in my body found a place for itself.
And then they bring me a parcel that the young ladies have collected in the brigade in Baltiysk. And the parcel is addressed to me and Stobetsky. It contains my favorite coffee for me and chewing gum for him. And then such melancholy swept over me!.. I received this parcel, but Sergei - no longer …
We got up in the area of the village of Agishty. "TOFIKS" on the left, "northerners" on the right occupied the dominant heights on the approach to Makhkets, and we stepped back - in the middle.
At that time, only thirteen people died in the company. But then, thank God, it was in my company that there were no more victims. Of those who remained with me, I began to re-form the platoon.
