In Afghanistan, the tragic and the comic were so mixed among themselves that sometimes it was difficult to separate one from the other. For example, we were once given the task of evacuating scouts. They were ambushed, half of the company "spirits" laid down, the battalion commander died. I was picking up a slightly wounded company commander, a lieutenant. And the lieutenant - only after school, he is twenty-two years old. And this picture is still in front of my eyes: this lieutenant is already sitting on the ground at the airfield, crying from grief that he has lost his friends, and from happiness that he himself has remained alive … But he says: “The division commander said to me: well done, Sanya, I I will write a submission to you for the Order of the Red Banner because you brought the rest of the company out of the battle. " And he is generally pleased that he is wounded, but alive. And even more pleased and proud that the division commander personally told him that he would present him to the Red Banner.
You have to understand on what principle they were awarded in Afghanistan. Very big bosses received the Order of Lenin or the Order of the Red Banner. All others received the Red Star. The fighter performs the next feat, they write on the Red Banner, they still give the Star. Another feat - they still give the Star. I had a fellow countryman from Voronezh, the commander of a reconnaissance company. They were nominated for the Order of Lenin and for the Hero of the Soviet Union. And in the end he still got three Red Stars.
Very often we provided bomb-assault strikes. It usually looked like this. A local resident comes and pawns the “khadovtsy” (KHAD. Afghan counterintelligence. - Ed.) “Spirits”: in such and such a village such and such a gang will then sit behind such and such a duval. "Khadovtsy" transfer this information to our advisers, who analyze and generalize it. All this secret work naturally takes place without us. And at the exit, a decision is made to launch a bomb attack on a specific Duval, where the bandits should be. We must provide target designation for attack aircraft and bombers, and then carry out objective control of the results of the strike.
A time was appointed when we must pick up a local traitor from a specific site, who must show where we need to work. The region and the village were usually known in advance. But this traitor had to show the concrete house where the "spirits" were already on the spot.
We sit down on the site. A UAZ with curtains on the windows drives up. Our captain or major, who works as an adviser in the area, comes out and brings out a spy who has a cap on his head. This is so that no one can recognize him from afar. Both sit with us in a helicopter, and we go to the meeting point with our planes. Then together with them - to the desired village.
We make the first passage over the village, and the traitor points with his finger to the Duval, where the bandits are sitting. He says: there is a machine gun, there is also a machine gun, and there is also a machine gun … We had a huge camera in the cargo compartment. We open the lower hatch and take pictures of what was before the impact. At this time, attack aircraft or bombers walk in a circle at an altitude of three to four thousand meters. This height was considered optimal so that they would not be used from MANPADS or from small arms. The Stingers, which hit three thousand five hundred meters, appeared later. Airplanes, plus everything else and cover us. If they start working on helicopters from the ground, then they must suppress firing points.
We made the second call already for target designation. For this we used glowing air bombs. Usually they are dropped on special parachutes over the battlefield at night in order to illuminate it. The bomb is dropped by parachute within a few minutes. And in Afghanistan, that's what they came up with. Parachutes were cut off from such a bomb (by the way, we used them as pillowcases, sheets or as carpets hung on the walls) and dropped it without parachutes. From hitting the ground, the fuse is triggered and the bomb burns on the ground. You can see it very well from the air. But, of course, our navigators - and these were young lieutenants - could not exactly drop the bomb. Therefore, further we had to direct the planes already in relation to this burning bomb. We say to fighters or attack aircraft: "Do you see the SAB?" - "We see." - "Do you see a tree from the SAB to the south?" - "We see." - "Do you see a duval from the tree to the left?" - "We see." - "This is the goal." - "Everything is clear, we are working."
Then I climb four and a half thousand meters. Now my main task is to pick up a pilot if someone is suddenly shot down. And the planes stand in a circle and take turns falling out of this circle to work on Duval. After they finished, I go back in and take pictures of the impact.
About a year after we arrived in Afghanistan, I was appointed flight commander. All the pilots in my flight were older both in age and in experience. But they said: "You graduated from college with a gold medal, you want to enter the Academy … Therefore, let them put you." But then, almost immediately, a situation arose from which I barely emerged alive.
When I went to Afghanistan, like the overwhelming majority of my comrades, I did not believe in God. As a child, my mother baptized me in secret from my father. He was never a zealous communist, but he was always an atheist. He is still an atheist. Mom was often scolded when she baked cakes and painted eggs for Easter. And he drove my brother and me for this business. But when I was leaving for Afghanistan, his mother, Daria Ivanovna, gave me a small icon of Nikolai the Pleasant and said: “When it’s hard for you, he will help you. You ask him - Nikolai the Pleasant, God's helper, save and help! " And I had no idea that there was some kind of Nikolai the Pleasant. After all, like my dad, I was also a communist. I told her: “Granny, what are you?.. I’m the secretary of the party bureau, practically the representative of the Central Committee of the CPSU in our squadron! And if they see this icon there? " She: “Nothing, Vova, it will come in handy. Sew it up your collar somewhere. " I sewed the icon into the collar of the jumpsuit as she asked.
For a very long time I didn’t think about this icon. Once, almost immediately after my appointment as flight commander, we were assigned the task of landing an assault force of thirty-six fighters on the Banu site. I had a reinforced flight of six helicopters.
It was very important to distribute the helicopters correctly. Everyone in the squadron knew which helicopters were strong and which were weak. They just look all the same. In fact, some helicopter is older, some have weaker engines. I say: "I am going by helicopter …". And everyone is waiting for me to say: I will take myself the strongest or the weakest. I knew that if I take the strongest one, the guys will say: "Well, you, commander, have become insolent!.. You have your first duty - taking care of your subordinates!" And to show this concern, I say: "I take myself the sixteenth board." It was the weakest helicopter. Everyone appreciated my act: "Well done!" I say: "We divide the paratroopers equally, six people on each side." In general, MI-8 can take twenty-four paratroopers. But the landing was carried out at an altitude of two thousand five hundred meters. And we calculated that at this altitude, with such air temperature, we can only take on board six fighters.
The paratroopers loaded up, we taxied into the runway. And then one side of us refuses. The pilot told me: "I'm taxiing." I answer: "Taxi". He pulls into the parking lot. And in my helicopter sits the company commander, the leader of this landing. I told him: "We have one side fell out, we are flying without six fighters." He told me: “Commander, what are you doing?.. You are cutting me without a knife! I have every room painted. We thought that you would land seventy people, and there are only thirty-six of us! Distribute these six along the remaining sides. " Me: "Yes, we will not pull!..". He: "No, without these six I can't, I won't fly at all."
I set my task to take one more fighter. There are five helicopters, six paratroopers. One remains. I know who has the most powerful side. I say to him: "The four hundred and forty-first, take the sixth for yourself." But it was not customary for us to talk out loud about the fact that someone had the strongest side. He replies: “Commander, what is this? Such is the concern for subordinates? You are the commander, you and take yourself too much. " Me: "Okay, send him to me." And it turned out that everyone had seven people, and I had eight on the weakest helicopter”. We went to the landing.
We come to the top of the mountain, there is a small plateau. The "spirits" realized that we were going to land troops, and began to work on us. I go in first, turn down the speed and … the helicopter starts to fall through, does not pull. I turn one hundred and eighty degrees and go to the second circle. I say: “I am not drawn. Come in, plant it. " All four went in and sat down the first time. I make a second run - again it doesn’t pull, another run - it still doesn’t pull … But we have such an order: we all came together, we all must leave together. It cannot be that they go away and I am the only one left. And then there is active opposition from the ground, the spirits beat. Mine say to me: "Four hundred and thirty-ninth, well, when will you finally sit down?..". I answer: "Guys, I'll sit down now."
And then I realized that I could not sit down, because it is against all the laws of aerodynamics. In theory, I should have given the command: “Four hundred and thirty-nine, I cannot land. The helicopter is overloaded, I am going to the point. And we all leave, leaving the landing on the mountain without a commander.
Now imagine: all my subordinates sat down, but I, the newly appointed flight commander, did not sit down alone. And I am returning to Kunduz with the landing commander on board. Then I realized that I would not leave, because I simply would not survive it. After all, it will be necessary at the airfield, right by the helicopter, to put a bullet in the forehead out of shame. I also realized that I couldn't sit down either. This is where I remembered my grandmother. He put his hand on the collar, where the icon was sewn up, and said: "Nikolai the Pleasant, God's helper, save and help!" By that time, I was already doing either the fourth or the fifth run (I was still surprised how I had not been knocked down yet!). And suddenly the helicopter had some kind of additional aerodynamic force - Divine. I sat down, we landed troops, and he completed the task. It was then that I believed in God. And for me personally, a simple truth became obvious: there are no atheists among those who were in the war.
There was another case when Nikolai the Ugodnik helped me so clearly that it was impossible not to see it. I and my wingman had to evacuate the special forces group after completing the task. The special forces on the navel of the mountain (the height was about two thousand meters) lit orange smoke - they marked the landing site. I'm hooked. The commander of the group, a senior lieutenant, approaches and says: "Commander, my soldier fell into the abyss." And he points to the pit at the side of the mountain. The width of this pit in this place is about a hundred meters. When the commandos climbed the mountain, one soldier fell down and broke. It lies at a depth of seventy to eighty meters from the top of the mountain. He screams, groans, it hurts, although he has already given himself an injection of promedol himself.
Starley asks me: "Sit there, take the fighter." Me: “I will not sit there, because then I will not fly from there. Get it yourself. " He: "Yes, while we will adjust the climbing equipment, while we go down, while we go up with it … It will take a very long time." And then it began to get dark, the sun was setting.
In 1984-1985, we did not fly in the mountains at night. We also cannot stay at the site at night, because all around is the "spirit" area. The special forces, while walking, did not find themselves and went out to the place of evacuation secretly. But when they lit the smoke, and in addition a couple of helicopters flew in, it became clear to the "spirits" what was what; therefore they could be expected at any moment.
Here it is necessary to explain why the helicopter flies at all. Due to the rotation of the screws, it pumps air down from above and creates an area of higher pressure under it than from above. This happens when the air around, as the helicopter pilots say, is “calm”. If the blades drive the disturbed, "bad" air through the rotor, then the required pressure difference is not obtained. And when landing in this pit, the helicopter would drive the air that would be reflected from the ground and the walls of the pit. That is, after landing, the car would find itself surrounded by indignant air. It is impossible to take off in such conditions.
Therefore, I say to the senior lieutenant: “I will not sit there, because I will stay there. Get it yourself. They began to prepare the equipment. The starley himself climbed down. But the sun was setting, everyone was in a hurry, and the equipment was prepared in a hurry, so that the commander himself breaks down and falls into the pit. Now there are already two of them. True, the elder only broke his leg. And the soldier, as it turned out later, had a very serious injury - a broken spine.
There is nowhere else to sit on this navel. My follower walks in a circle above us and at the same time watches so that the "spirits" do not imperceptibly approach. I, although with a heavy heart, say to the soldiers: “Get into the helicopter, we are leaving. Otherwise, we will all stay here. " They: "We will not fly without a commander." And I well understand that humanly they are right!.. On the one hand, I cannot leave them here, because we have already lit them with our helicopters. But, on the other hand, if we leave without them, then this on the mountain - the cover, and those who are below - too. Then they will simply be pelted with grenades.
There was no other way out: and I sank into this pit. The flight technician with the "Pravak" was dragged into the starley's cabin with a soldier. But, as I expected, the helicopter does not fly upward … (It is not for nothing that Colonel Romasevich himself taught practical aerodynamics at the school, the legend of aerodynamics, who is the author of almost all textbooks on this science that is not fully understood by the cadets.) I take a "step" - a helicopter. twitches, but does not come off the ground. And then I again remembered about the icon - and took off!..
Then I commanded a helicopter regiment for twelve years. And for all twelve years, in my first aerodynamics classes, I told young pilots: “There are laws of aerodynamics. But there are still higher, God's, laws. Believe it or not. But only they explain those situations when, with absolute hopelessness from the point of view of physics, a person still gets out of a hopeless situation."
Somehow, almost before leaving Afghanistan, we were sitting on a platform near Mount Jabal. It's not far from Kabul. As usual, we supported the combat operations of our 201st division. There has always been a so-called “pair of division commanders,” who were appointed as squadron commander every day. This is a pair of helicopters working directly on the orders of the divisional commander. He himself sits at the command post of the division, and we are on duty at the site at this command post. We sit and sit to ourselves, satisfied and happy that only a month and a half is left until the replacement.
Then the division commander calls me and says: so they say and so, our platoon is on the top of the mountain, the "spirits" surrounded them from all sides. Ours have big losses, there are "two hundredth" (killed) and "three hundredth" (wounded). Plus, there is no communication with them, the batteries have run out at the radio station. You need to get hooked there, throw out batteries, water, food. And also to take away the killed and wounded, because they tied our hands and feet.
I ask: "Where?" He shows on the map. I say: “Comrade General, this is at an altitude of three thousand nine hundred and fifty meters. And my admission is up to two five hundred. I have no right. " He: “Yes, you understand!.. There people are dying, and you: I have no right, I have no right … Now, if you had guns in your collar tabs, I would understand. And you have birds! Or maybe these are not birds, but chickens?.. ". In short, he began to pressure me psychologically. I told him again: “Comrade general, I have no right. If I go there, then I will have serious problems with the squadron commander. " General: "Yes, I'll call your squadron leader now …". I answer: "No, I cannot." And he went to the helicopter.
The wingman came up, Misha. Asks: "What is there?" I say: “Yes, they squeezed the infantry on some kind of little hill. We have to fly, but we obviously won't be able to pull it off, there won't be enough power. " (I myself never sat down at such a height, although the helicopters allowed for this in terms of engine power.)
Half an hour later, the division commander calls me again. I report: "Comrade General, I have arrived …". He: "Well, have you made up your mind?" I again: "Comrade General, I have no right." But he helped me - he says: "I called the squadron commander, he gave the go-ahead." There are mobile phones now. And then what: you sit on a platform in the mountains and do not really know anything … I say: "Yes, the squadron commander could not give you the go-ahead for this matter!..". He exploded: “Yes, I'm deceiving you, or what? Let’s do this: if you sit down, I’ll write you a performance on the Banner, for the crew - on the Red Star”.
Then I succumbed to this provocation. The Order of the Red Banner is serious, everyone dreamed about it. I said, "Okay, I'll go get the helicopter ready." It was necessary to take off and remove all unnecessary things in order to reduce the weight. He: "Well, when you are ready, you will report."
I go to the helicopter. And my flight technician is a lieutenant, the right pilot is a lieutenant. I tell them: “Guys, so and so. The division commander said that if we sit down and complete the task, then I will get a Banner, you will get a Star. " And we all already had an order. (In the mid-eighties, within one year, it was almost impossible to receive a second order for one Afghan, if only posthumously.) We must pay tribute to the division commander, he was a good psychologist. He knew how to "buy" us.
The helicopter was lightened to the maximum. I went to the division commander and reported that we were ready. He: "Take a box of stew, a box of canned meat, water and batteries." And in such cases water was poured into car chambers and somehow managed to be sealed. Me: "I just can't sit down." He: “If you can't, don't sit down. Throw it away on the way, they will pick it up. It would be nice to pick up the wounded. But even if you throw it off, it's already good!"
To the follower I say: "I will go in alone, and you walk around, drive the" spirits "away." Our people sat on the very top of the mountain, the "spirits" surrounded them from all sides. I flew in, I started to turn off the speed, turned off up to sixty kilometers - the helicopter falls through … I looked: - the "spirits" understood why I had arrived. Tracers in my direction went from left to right … I see ours: they are sitting on the "navel" (top of the mountain. - Ed.). Several people run to and fro, the wounded are in bandages, killed immediately covered with something. I put out the speed still, the flight technician began to throw out the boxes. The height was fifteen meters. I see: a container with water falls and breaks!.. There are sharp stones everywhere. One soldier with a Panama into this water splash!.. This is to collect a Panama and squeeze at least a few drops into your mouth. Batteries crashed and fell from the mountain somewhere down into the gorge. In short, I did not complete the task. But it "caught fire" … It became clear to me that ours really had complete melancholy there …
He sat down on the platform near the command post. I have not yet had time to stop the screws, - the division commander approaches. Asks: "Well?" I report: "Comrade General, nothing happened." I explained everything as it is. He waved his hand and said, “Okay. I could not - it means I could not. No, and no trial. " Me: “Comrade General, can I try again? And I have already used up some of the fuel, the helicopter has become lighter. " He gave the command to bring me water and batteries again. I flew a second time.
When I flew up, I could not hang up - the air was thin. He plopped down on the rocks. The on-board technician opened the door and began to supply water. The picture around is terrible … The dead and wounded are everywhere. Around the helicopter there was a crowd of thirsty fighters … I still remember their crazy faces with cracked white lips … And then there were "spirits" hammering at us, the first bullet holes appeared in the hull.
And then the soldiers rushed to the cameras with water!.. They tear them apart with their hands, try to drink water. Their commander was a senior lieutenant. He gives the command: “Line up! What a mess ?! " Wherever there, no one listens to him!.. Here the starley gives a burst from the machine up: "I told someone to build!..". And then he began to build his own near the helicopter and chastise: "What are you doing, we will now distribute water …". I yell to him: "Senior lieutenant, what are you doing?.. Come on, load the wounded, then you will educate your excellent students!..". Loaded four. The fighters were thin, sixty kilograms. Therefore, we should have taken off normally.
While the flight technician was closing the door, and I tried the helicopter at the "step", the senior lieutenant still built his fighters to the end. And the sergeant began to pour water into flasks one by one …
I landed, the "nurse" immediately took the wounded. I went to the division commander, reported: "Comrade General, I completed the task!" He: "Well done …". I return to the airfield and report to the squadron commander: "I completed the task, flew there and there … The division commander said that you should write me a submission to the Banner, and to the crew - to the Zvezda." And the squadron commander: "What are you!.. You violated the tolerance for the maximum height!". Me: "So the division commander went out to you, you gave the go-ahead!" He: “What is the division commander? Nobody came to me! And if I came out, I would … send him … You have a clearance - two thousand five hundred meters, which three nine hundred and fifty?.. ". And for violating flight laws (that is, for sitting on a site that does not meet my clearance), I was suspended from flying for a week. Of course, no one remembered any awards …
I was finishing my service in Afghanistan as a flight commander, in which there was an ambulance helicopter, the so-called "tablet". It had a fully equipped operating room.
Our infantry performed a mission in the village near Central Baglan. There they ran into a gang that came out of the Pandsher Gorge to rest. It was said that it was a gang of "black storks" (elite special forces of the mujahideen. - Ed.). Then these "storks" thrashed ours apparently-invisibly. We were assigned the task of evacuating the wounded.
We sat down with the man on the platform in the mountains. The battle is still going on, he just moved aside. The sun has already set, so I yell to the lieutenant colonel of the medical service, who was with us: "Let's go faster!" It is very difficult to take off from a platform in the mountains at night. And then they began to constantly bring people on the armor!.. The wounded, the killed, the wounded, the killed … And they are all loaded, loaded, loaded … The killed were put on the doors in the very tail of the helicopter, the slightly wounded - sitting, the heavy - lying … I say: "Enough, the helicopter will not pull. " And to me the doctor: “What to do? The wounded will definitely not make it to the morning!.. ". They began to unload the dead and left only the wounded. There were twenty-eight people in total. It was lucky that the helicopter's engines were powerful. With difficulty, but managed to take off.
I flew to Kunduz, taxied to the parking lot. Four "nurses" arrived, of course, not all of the fighters got in. After all, I have twenty-eight, the follower has almost the same number. The rest were carried out of the helicopter and laid directly on the concrete penny of the parking lot. The night was just amazing, quiet! Only the cicadas chirp, the stars shine in the sky!
I stand on the sidelines, smoking. And then one kid (his leg was torn off) says to me: "Comrade captain, let me light a cigarette." I gave him a cigarette and I see that he is very pleased!.. I ask: “Your leg was torn off! Why are you so happy? " He: “Comrade captain, God bless her, with her leg! The prosthesis will be made. The main thing is that it's all over for me …”. Of course, he was injected with a decent dose of painkillers, which is why he endured the pain so easily at that moment. But to myself I thought: “Fir-trees, sticks! Here it is, happiness!.. A man's leg is torn off, but he is pleased that for him the war is already over. And now no one will kill him, and he will go home to his mother-father-bride."
So in life everything is relative. And often in Afghanistan on such an evening you will go out into the street, look at the starry sky and think: "Can I go out like this tomorrow, just to breathe and look at the sky ?!"
