Disbat.. This is a word from which even now something ominous emanates for me. No, I have never been there, thank God, although I could have thundered for a sweet soul. As, however, any soldier is not immune from this. Disbats, in our country, were created not to reeducate those who got there, but to intimidate soldiers in ordinary units. It is no coincidence that, after serving the term appointed by the tribunal, the soldier returned to the unit to serve the term "assigned" by the oath.. Well, there, he was an example of what happens for violation of discipline. Therefore, the more unbearable the life of the "convicted" will be, the more effective the "living weapon of intimidation" of the soldiers will be. Officers like to bark on occasion: "Did you want to go to the disbat? Just ask Ivanov, what is it like there?"
Ivanov has been asked for a long time, and his gloomy silence acts "more abruptly" than the most eloquent stories. So.., he said that all the movements there are either running, or with a marching step. Stroyev - "zapadlo", so all the time running, at least a year, at least two, at least three.. He said that there is complete "ustavschina". The charter is actually a good thing, but only on condition that it is observed by everyone, both subordinates and superiors.
How do you get there? As a rule, after a show trial. Also a repulsive sight, like a public execution.
There are no acquittals at show courts, the case is "sewn up" to the conscience. And they punish them severely, so that the soldiers and their comrades present are discouraged.
And me, and a few other guys, were literally saved from disbat by our colleague and friend - Valya Oleg (in the photo, second from the right). It was in 1996 in the village of Kamenka, Leningrad region. We served in the 1st self-propelled battalion of the 805th artillery regiment.
The story began like this..
Charger
As usual at 6.00, the daytime workers turned on the light in the barracks and a second later there was a shout: "Po-olk, Rise!" Everyone got up and began to dress slowly. There was a chance that the person in charge of the division would not come to the "rise", then it would be possible to sit out in a copter, and not run, with a bunch of eccentrics stripped to the waist with the letter "M", in search of shelter from the prickly autumn snow, cold wind, yes "Jackal" eye.. But in the "disposition" suddenly hissed piercingly: "Seka!" Someone saw our person in charge enter the barracks. The mood in the morning was ruined, since today the deputy commander of the battalion for educational work ("political officer", in short), Guards Major Nikulin, appeared on the "rise".
Major Nikulin was a rather "slippery comrade". On the one hand, a soldier tried to climb into one well-known place without soap, on the other, we knew which side he was on.. He devotedly looked into the eyes of the commander, but changed abruptly when he went on vacation, for example. My first acquaintance with him was remarkable in that for the first time my illusions about military service were dispelled. My father was an officer, he taught at the NVP (initial military training) school, and from childhood I remember the words that "there is such a profession - to defend the Motherland!" By the way, there was a radio circle at the school, which, in fact, was actually a sabotage school. Everyone who visited him, and there were a lot of them, knew the Morse code, the basics of orienteering and military topography, survival in the forest, calmly held weapons in their hands. In short, there was no need to teach them anything in the army. But Major Nikulin knew that the soldier lacked discipline and therefore fought against its violations even before they were committed. And so, immediately after the oath, they summon me to the copter, and there, at the set table, sits almost all of our division command. I walk in as expected, like nothing bad.. Nikulin gets up, starts shouting something about the fact that I am a bad soldier, that I answer boldly to the officers, and during his monologue, he hits me a couple of times in the face with his palm. Not painful at all, but somehow disgusting. Well, I think my father had been preparing him for a worthy service in the army all his life, and then some figure in the rank of major was beating me in the face. He continues to yell, and I think: “When did I manage to trick the officers, it’s like“two hours from the train.”Then he starts shaking some piece of paper in front of my face, saying:“You won't be able to live so easily with me how he lived in civilian life! Do you understand me? "As if he knew how I lived.. Only then it dawned on me that this piece of paper was a characteristic from the school from which I was expelled at one time. Naturally, not for good behavior, and Major Nikulin decided to strike a preemptive blow, to prevent confusion in the division.
And today, as a responsible officer, he appeared on the rise. The division lined up, he was told who had been appointed cleaners in the division. Oleg Valei was appointed from the first battery. The zampolit warned us for the hundredth time that he would smoke near the entrance to the barracks and count how many laps we would run around the parade ground. But we knew that he would smoke a cigarette, and besides, he would hit the road somewhere in a warm place, after all, the "jackal" is also a man. Well, we ran a couple of laps, we look, he is not. We smoked in the sports camp and a couple of people began to seep into the barracks. We come and see the picture. Valeich is sitting on a stool in an incomprehensible state, and he is supported so that he does not fall to the floor, Private Brower, blood is flowing from Oleg's head..
And this is what happened.. When we ran out to exercise, Valeich went to the toilet while he was washing there, then yes, a young fighter, by the name of Brower, took the cleaning equipment out of habit and began to calmly clean himself. I must say that Brower was the only young man in the first battery, and it so happened that he did not go to exercise, but was a permanent cleaner in the morning. At this time, for some reason, the "political officer" returned to the location. Seeing that instead of Valeich, a young man was being removed, he became enraged. Oleg at this time washed, and not finding a mop in his usual place, as he thought that today he would have to clean himself, he returned to the location of the battery. It was there that I got "under the distribution". The major snatched the mop from Brower and hit Oleg in the temple like a hammer.
Then he just left. Brower tried to somehow help Valeich, but where did it go. In the meantime, we returned, took Oleg to the medical unit, and after a short time we learned that he had been taken to the garrison hospital.
Buza
It must be admitted that an officer's scuffle in Kamenka is so commonplace that if Oleg had not received such a serious injury, we would have forgotten for this incident the very next day. But the "jackals" and so at that time got everyone, and then everyone realized that because of such a teacher, you just might not return home. It was necessary to put them in their place somehow, but how? Someone suggested writing a letter to the committee of soldiers' mothers, even, hehe, the president. In general, we did not agree to anything specific, but decided not to let the "jackals" hush up the matter. In the meantime, bad news came that Oleg had already been taken to St. Petersburg to the district hospital, that they would have an operation, and he had amnesia. I remember that for some reason everyone was anxious at heart, and this was felt among the boys.. Major Nikulin was removed from the soldiers as the head of the club. Correctly, by the way, they did it, the people were already walking around in a regular manner. Through the informers, the command learned that there was a booze in the unit. People got tired of being held for sheep, the situation could get out of control. I was sure from the very beginning that to hold meetings, write letters, etc. it makes no sense, and decided to take revenge on the major personally. I don’t think I was right then, but for the sake of truth I’ll say that first I wanted to burn his car. What does the car have to do with it (?), But one way or another, nothing else came to my mind at the age of 19. Then I decided to burn him in the apartment, but the guys said that he had a small daughter and I gave up this stupid idea altogether..
After Oleg was taken to St. Petersburg, there was no news of him for a long time. But we found out that it was against us, they opened a criminal case for hazing. Not weak, huh ?! In general, while we were ranting about injustice, the authorities acted. One morning, our "young people" were taken away from the divorce, and for about a day we did not see them at all. It turned out that our former "educator" and comrades were trying to get them to report that bullying is flourishing in the division and that Private Valya, your humble servant, and a few other names are to blame. They did not achieve much, they simply did not let them out of the classroom of the educational building for about a day anywhere, neither to eat nor (sorry) to eat. We must pay tribute to the boys, only a couple of people agreed, and not because they were somehow afraid of us, I'm sure of that.
In the meantime, they drew a certificate to the major that he had been wounded in Chechnya. Who served in 1995 as part of the 1st SADn knows that he could only be concussed when he hit his head on a self-propelled gun, if he had enough. Then they turned things around as if in the battalion "hazing" had acquired such proportions that the major zampolit could not stand it, took up the cleaning equipment and let's fight with her, damned.
They began to take us one by one to the prosecutor's office in Vyborg for interrogations. Vyborg is a beautiful city. Probably, it would be great to walk with your beloved along its old streets or the embankment of the Gulf of Finland. For some reason I remember huge black stones covered with green moss - the remains of an ancient fortress. You will laugh, but they really, like living, silent observers, contemplate what is happening around. And, probably, they give their own, highly experienced assessment of our life with you. And while they are contemplating, they are trying to put us on a disbat. I will not talk about the interrogations, there was nothing remarkable about them. Although no, there was one moment. For some reason, one "comrade" wrote that I made him walk in the dining room for more food. I peeped his name, the investigator blundered. Until now, I want to ask "Mahonya" why he wrote such nonsense, because this has never happened. Well, I would have written that I was beating, I took away the money.. Although this was not the case, at least the accusation would have been more impressive. And then, the dining room, some kind of "additive"..
Parted edges
Then, the calls to the prosecutor's office stopped abruptly. For a long time we were in the dark about what would happen next, until I met with Oleg. He said that after he had an operation, an investigator came to him, who was in charge of the case of Major Nikulin. He shook the file with the case against us and said: You have two options: first, the major will be given a "condition", they will finish your treatment, and you go to serve your term, and your sidekicks go to the disbat in the "Stolypin" carriage. Or: you give up claims to the political officer, you are commissioned and you go home, and your friends calmly continue to pull their "strap" in the part until the demobilization itself, and, as you know, it is inevitable! Take your pick.
Oleg then asked me, seeing that I was not very happy with his story: "Did I do the right thing, that I gave up?" Well, what can you answer, of course it is correct! Only God knows how everything could turn, and so, everyone returned home. As for that major, we never saw him again. A new political officer came to replace him. We had no conflicts with him. When the day of our retirement came, he volunteered to accompany us to the bus stop. We did not move away and 15 meters from the headquarters of the new political officer began a song: "Like, it would not hurt to" put down "for demobilization. Well, at least not for me, I am here recently, but the officers need their own, with whom they served.."
I agree, the officers need it, and with great pleasure I would raise a hundred grams now, and more than once, for my battalion commander, Captain Igor Alekseevich Golub. With him, I believe that I served. The whole regiment knew and respected him. By the way, he made it a rule never to touch a soldier with a finger, although he could. And to the dick he could send some commanding strategist if he began to force the soldiers to do useless work. In short, a normal guy. And we did not leave money for drinking to those who almost drove us to the disbat. They probably sent a new political officer because they knew nothing would shine from us except the strong Archangel word. And what to take from them, in one word - "jackals".
