This story was written from the words of a man who was in Angola and experienced it all. That is to say, the look of a soldier from the trench. He told this in 2005, 30 years later.
The alarm, the "Balancer" signal, sounded at 5 am. Hearing this prearranged signal, my heart skipped a beat, is it really a war! "Balancer" sounded only in response to a combat alarm. This meant that in an hour and a half we were to board the planes. The task of their special purpose unit, in the event of the outbreak of war, is to disable the field headquarters of NATO troops. Six tank armies of the Soviet Group of Forces in Germany, crushing everything in their path, were supposed to rush and two days later to reach the English Channel. And they had to destroy the headquarters for the first time. It was located in the area of the French - Belgian border, in old quarries, where stone was mined for hundreds of years; on top of the adits were covered with a multi-meter cap of reinforced concrete. The USSR General Staff believed that even an atomic bomb would not disable it. To their reconnaissance and sabotage group, where Petrov served, were assigned "lasers", warrant officers who were trained in one of the closed cities near Moscow. They had portable lasers, slightly larger than a saxophone case. With this laser, it was necessary to burn holes in the armored doors that closed the entrances to the adits, then explosives were used. At the shooting range, lasers burned through the armor of "Tigers" and "Panthers", which survived from the war, and which they shot from RPGs.
Having received an alarming backpack in the storeroom, and in the gun, AKMS and ammunition, Petrov jumped out into the street. Trucks were already approaching the barracks for loading and delivering personnel to the airfield. Some of the fighters who lived on the second floor jumped right out the windows, there was a crush on the stairs.
At the airfield, when landing, the commander did not manage to find out the details of what and how, and where we were flying. We plunged and took off. After an hour of flight, Petrov fell asleep. Woke up while landing, landed in Libya! We were met by our military, pilots who were there. They were taken away from the ILs, given dry rations, water, and received additional ammunition. In the evening they were fed hot and instructed. It turned out to be thrown into Angola. There was a war there, Angola was attacked by Zaire from the north and South Africa from the south, which did not recognize the People's Revolutionary Party MPLA, and brought in regular troops. They warned that you have to be extremely careful, tk. on the side of South Africa and Zaire, in addition to the regular troops, mercenaries from Europe (France, Belgium), the United States (Afro-Americans) are taking part, there are even mercenaries from Tunisia. In addition, MI6 commandos were spotted. They are also supported by rebels from the FNLA and UNITA. On the side of the MPLA, the GDR and our advisers are fighting. They warned that a Mediterranean squadron would approach from the sea and the marines would land, the fleet would support them with fire. Cuban troops will also land. Fighting has already been going on in the suburbs of the capital of Angola, Luanda. Our task is to recapture the airfield, which was already apparently controlled by ZAIR. If things go really bad, then we must ensure the evacuation of our advisers and the government of the MPLA party, led by Agostinho Netto.
They took off their warm overalls, when on alarm they flew out of the GDR, it was +4 Celsius. Here, under 30 degrees Celsius, and in Angola, summer is now beginning. They handed over their documents to the political officer and everyone received a tablet with a map of the area, and the clock was translated to local time. At night they plunged into airplanes, the "lasers" were taken away somewhere else during the day and took off.
Each of the fighters withdrew into himself, no one slept, each thought about his own. On the right side of Petrov sat his friend, a machine-gunner, Valentin B. A handsome man, one meter ninety-two in height, an oblique fathom in his shoulders, from the Kuban Cossacks, always calm and not outraged. On the left side, an Armenian, Rustam M., from the city of Artik. The same tall as Valentine, only a thin physique, but at the same time possessing simply superhuman strength, he was nicknamed the "Tin Woodman". He was swarthy, with a long hooked nose like all Armenians and the same explosive. He is with Petrov, was from the same call, Valentin, six months older. The detachment consisted of guys of different nationalities, mainly from Russia (Siberians, Udmurts, Adyghes, from the central regions), Ukraine, Belarus, there were several from Armenia and Georgia, one from Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan. The relationship was very good, there was no manifestation of bullying at all. The service was literally according to the charter. They drove, "Mama, do not worry." Each time during the check, the detachment was visited by one of the Generals of the General Staff. This summer, 1975, their part was visited by the Minister of Defense of the USSR Grechko and the General Secretary of the Central Committee of the CPSU L. Brezhnev. Everything that appeared new in weapons was tested in their special purpose squad, it is clear that they did not test tanks and missiles.
1
Under the hum of the engines, Petrov recalled the phrase said by Captain M., to another officer, that it was not our task to capture airfields, just someone in the General Staff wanted to test us in a combat situation so that we could fight. These thoughts in his head did not raise any doubts. In combat, it means - in combat!
International duty, therefore, we will fulfill - international duty! About what the political officer said.
We landed at 11.00 local time. Petrov jumped fourth in the stream, thrown from a height of 700 meters. He will never forget the first minutes of landing. Blinding sun, at its zenith, bright green, unfamiliar vegetation and a heavy machine gun that fired from the flank. It seemed like all the bullets were at you. Crawling to the side, into a small cover, Petrov looked around and began to more consciously fire at the figures that were running across. The starley's command followed: “Forward! Attack! ", Petrov shouting" Hurray! " rushed to the nearest figures. They began to run away, it turned out to be quite, not easy to catch up with them, although Petrov ran before the army and had a sports category. Shooting on the move, he approached one of the fleeing, he seemed to limp. Dodging a pistol shot, he swept and stunned with a blow from the butt when he tried to get up. The airfield was recaptured easily. Among ours there were only 8 wounded, there were no deaths at all.
Negroes, they put in a lot, took 7 people prisoners, among them were white ones. Petrov recognized the officer whom he had stunned with a rifle butt, his entire jaw was torn apart, he was whining softly. He boasted to Valentin, look, they say, how I do it. An order was received to dig in, to take up the defensive position. In the evening the Cubans began to approach. And here, Petrov received a second, slight shock. He first saw a woman in camouflage, with a machine gun in her hands. Her thin waist was tied with a belt, a rather lush chest, intercepted by a harness. She was a beautiful mestizo, but the most amazing thing was that she commanded a company and her orders were carried out at a run. Prior to that, Petrov saw women in the army only in medical units, nurses or doctors.
The night passed calmly, during the day the airfield was completely surrendered to the Cubans. The battalion was taken to rest in the city, staying in a luxurious hotel. There was a swimming pool, but what was more impressed by the huge beds, which housed a whole compartment. For three days they beat the thumbs. Then there was a redeployment to the area of the city of Ndalamando. There, for more than two months, they were engaged in the preparation of special forces for the MPLA army.
The conditions were not very good. Most of all there were problems from bad water. Many suffered from stomachs, various insects bothered, there were several cases of a tsetse fly bite, and many guys, especially from Siberia, had a hard time tolerating the climate. From the heat and humidity, arms and legs swelled, various skin diseases appeared. But by the end of the month they were mostly involved.
One afternoon, the platoon commander, ensign N …, nicknamed "Khokhol", was summoned to the battalion headquarters. When he returned, he formed a platoon and announced the task to be completed. The squad, where Petrov served, was thrown in a southerly direction, to the border with Namibia. This territory was under the control of South African troops. Somewhere there, on the Cuneno River, in one of the villages, there was a wounded Cuban scout. Our task is to ferry it across the front line, however, there was no solid line there. They were given a day for preparation, with a detachment there was a guide from local and two Cuban intelligence officers. Initially, they were transferred to the city of Lobita, where the Cubans and the guide joined. The Cubans spoke good Russian, one of them was a doctor. The next day, in the evening, two MI-8 helicopters, with Cuban crews, dropped the group and equipment to a point in the Angolan bush.
Ours and the Cubans were loaded "all the way", the guide, he was from the Herero people, walked light, with one machine gun.
For two and a half hours we covered fifteen kilometers and reached the river. A hundred meters from the river, they cleared a place in the thickets and set up guards, spent the night. We got up before dawn. The platoon commander, ensign "Khokhol" who took command of the squad, sent Petrov and Valentin to reconnaissance on the other side. The water in the river was chest-deep, but twice fell into the pits and plunged head over heels. Having crossed and made reconnaissance, they gave the go-ahead for the entire group to cross. It has already begun to dawn. When the group was in the middle of the river, Petrov noticed an old man with a girl, about ten years old. The old man was heading straight to where he and Valentine were. Disguised, they waited a meter and a half from the path for unexpected guests to approach. The old man, before reaching Valentine, felt something. He stopped and began to sniff, twirl his head. The girl walked forward. Valentine made a throw and knocked down the old man, Petrov also jumped. The girl reacted instantly, she sat down abruptly, turned around and ran back. Petrov, not meeting anyone during the flight, cut into the bushes with his entire mass and scratched his hands and face. It's good that Valentine managed to trip her, she fell. Petrov jumped up and took it out in three leaps. When he brought the girl, clamping her mouth with a glove to the place where Valentine was, the old man was already lying tied up with a gag in his mouth. He goggled wildly, moving them from one to the other. Of course, they still had the same vidocq. The scout overalls they had weren't the same color as the landscape in Angola. It was dominated by red soil and bright green vegetation. The guys put on pieces of fishing nets on their chests, shoulders, sleeves and landing headsets. Branches, grass were inserted into the cells of the nets, and ribbons smeared in clay were tied, light green oak leaves on overalls were painted with iodine. Their faces were smeared with soot from the fire, they were hung with weapons. No wonder that the old man was scared, an unfamiliar shape, an appearance of such, it seems he has not yet seen.
The group crossed over, the guide began to interrogate the old man. The old man did not speak Portuguese, nor did he speak the language of the guide. Fortunately, they found a dialect that they both understood. We clarified where the village we need is located. During the interrogation, the girl squatted and nibbled the biscuit that Petrov gave her. Just in case, he held her left hand. After the interrogation, the question arose of what to do with the detainees. The commander conferred with the Cubans and gave an order, two of them took the old man into the bushes. They returned in 7-8 minutes. They decided not to kill the girl, but to take it with them. Such a law of intelligence, written in blood, if you do not destroy those who discovered you, then they will definitely tell that they saw the group. And sooner or later they will find the group and destroy it.
Petrov took a piece of a parachute line from his knapsack and tied the girl by the neck, the other end to the belt. They pushed two people into the head patrol at a distance of 150 meters and walked without stopping for three hours. We made a break, had a snack. The girl walked all the way, silently only glancing around. For another two hours we moved up the hills, observing all safety precautions.
One of the sentinels appeared and warned, beyond the ridge of the hill - a village.
Petrov and Valentin stayed behind to guard the girl and the equipment. The rest, in pairs, began to monitor the village.
About three hours later, Rustam came running and said that our people were entering the village, everything seemed to be clean. And he takes the machine gunner. He and Valentine will cover from the side of the road. Petrov was left alone to wait for the search results and to guard the equipment and the girl.
Villages in Angola are mostly circular. In the center there is a room where residents gather to resolve any issues or for a holiday. Residential buildings are built around, and outbuildings behind. Houses are built from branches and coated with clay, the roof is covered with thatch or grass. As they later told, the wounded man was in one of the houses in the center. The whole village came to see.
About forty minutes later, fighters appeared, they carried a Cuban scout on a makeshift stretcher, his head was bandaged and his shoulder was bandaged.
The radio operator, by order of the commander, tried to contact the headquarters, but he failed. The radio did not take here. Petrov hung up another knapsack on himself to relieve those who carried the wounded man. The girl was released, ordered to go to the village. We made halts every half hour, tried to get in touch, but there was no connection. Prior to that, complete radio silence was observed. Petrov noticed that the commander was leading the group not along the old route, but much to the west. We walked until the evening.
We spent the night. In the morning we heard the roar of a helicopter engine and saw the American Chinook disappearing behind the hills. It became clear that they were already looking for. The commander ordered increased vigilance. By three o'clock in the afternoon we went to the mining village, watched for thirty minutes. Everything was quiet, the village was abandoned. The commander decided to enter the village, take refuge in one of the houses, take the radio operator to the roof of a tall building and try to contact the headquarters, because the hills and mountains, which were visible 5-7 kilometers to the north, interfered. Petrov and Valentin were sent to reconnaissance, and the Tin Woodman with "Little Dragon" went with the second pair. So they called Sanya from Bryansk. When he was called up, he weighed 106 kg., Was a candidate master of sports in judo, he was large, dense. In the first three months I lost 25 kg, they drove very hard. In the morning, an hour of exercise, in the afternoon, two hours of fizuh or rukapashka, we ran a lot of march, throws of 20-25 km, once even 56 kilometers in an exercise. There is only one large head left, hence the Little Dragon. From the very beginning they were taught to walk in pairs, a partner was chosen at will.
The task was to find out the nearest structures of the mine. Cuddling up to fences made of stone and covering each other, we passed a small street of 16-20 stone huts. We entered the mine yard and began to approach the 4-storey building. It stood without windows or doors. The woodcutter went inside, and the Little Dragon remained on the street. Petrov and Valentin began to walk around the building, and at that time Petrov saw about 8 of them behind a stone fence tops of their heads, in camouflage caps, such as baseball caps. He pointed with his hand to Valentin, who was closer to the fence, he showed that he also saw. He took out a grenade, took out the pin and threw it over the fence. Petrov quickly, before the explosion, turned around the corner of the building and collided point-blank with the blue-eyed blonde. Both were taken aback, Petrov pulled the trigger, the machine gun was silent. Analyzing later, Petrov remembered that at the last halt he had put the machine on the safety catch and forgot to remove it. The blue-eyed one struck with his fist on the right, from the blow by Peter, he flew 3-4 meters, turning over in the air, a grenade explosion was heard. Lying on his back, Petrov again pressed the trigger and in a burst literally cut in half the blond who rushed at him. How and when he removed the safety catch and twisted the bolt, tumbling on the ground, Petrov could not remember even after 30 years. The blond fell a meter away from him. I jumped up, there was a strong hum in my head, my left eye instantly swam. Valentine was lying in the aisle of the gate and hitting from a machine gun in short bursts along the street. The "little dragon" climbed onto a pile of rubble and fired over the fence. Dull thumps, groans, shouts were heard from the building, in German and in Armenian. Petrov hurried there, He jumped on the windowsill and jumped into the room. Having overcome two rooms, I jumped out into the lobby. There he saw Rustam, all splattered with blood in a torn suit. There were four corpses on the floor, one still twitching in its dying convulsions, there was a smell of blood. Seeing Petrov, Rustam relaxed and lowered his famous "macheto" and began to wipe the bloody blade and hand on the pants of one of the dead. His knife had a 35 cm blade. He exchanged it at one local for 10 cans of condensed milk and chocolate, which was included in the dry ration. I also gave him my scout knife.
During the month and a half that Petrov spent in Angola, he had seen a lot, but now he felt uncomfortable with what he saw. Little Dragon appeared, looked around and began to search the dead. He took the documents and put it in his bosom. Petrov removed a small machine gun from the nearest corpse, as it turned out later, it was an Israeli Uzi. Valentine appeared in the doorway, his whole face was scratched, blood was oozing, he was wiping it off with the back of his hand. The bullets hit the masonry of the fence, where he was lying, and the flying stones hit his entire face. "Quickly! Let's go!”He commanded. Jumping out the windows, they ran to the fence, overcame it and began to retreat through the bushes. Shooting and grenade explosions could be heard from behind. Going out to the place where the group remained, they found only one soldier, who was left to wait for them. It was a sniper named "Chukchi" Kolya. He was a thoroughbred hare, Siberian, hunter. Starting from the seventh grade, together with his father, for three months in winter, he went into the taiga to beat a sable, squirrel, ermine. During the season, he earned 7-9 thousand rubles. At that time it was a lot of money, "Zhiguli" cost 5 thousand. When he came to the company after training, then talking about his civilian life, he said: "Do you know how the Khanty beat a squirrel in the eye?" The people did not know who the Khanty were. Then he explained that the Khanty are like the Chukchi. Everyone knew who the Chukchi were. “Here I am, like a Chukchi, hitting a squirrel in the eye,” Kolya explained innocently. And since then he became the Chukchi. He also knew how to navigate at any time of the day without resorting to the help of a map and a compass. They ran and after 40 minutes caught up with the group. The commander announced a halt. We examined the documents that the Little Dragon took and the machine gun that Petrov brought. According to the documents, two were from Germany, the other from Spain, and one more - Portuguese. Age from 24 to 32 years old. The blue-eyed one, whom Petrov flunked, was also under thirty. Apparently, mercenaries and professionals were thrown in search of their group. The commander led the group to the south-west, judging that in the northern direction, where the front passed, they were already expected. We walked all day, halts were reduced to 5 minutes, instead of 15, as it was yesterday. Only once I had to sunbathe for 40 minutes, as a plane appeared and barged in the air, clearly looking out for the group. All these days the air temperature was over 40 degrees. Fatigue was already beginning to show itself, the conductor was the first to turn in, I had to take the machine gun from him and hand it over to Byasha. Blokhin was from Moscow. Before the army, he was engaged in modern pentathlon. But as his partner in a pair, Vasya, nicknamed "Wardrobe", said, he had a very big drawback - kindness. He, Blokhin, was very kind, hence this affectionate nickname Byash. Vasya "Cabinet" was from Rostov-on-Don. He was two meters tall, before the army, he played handball professionally in a team of masters, graduated from boarding sports. He was an orphan. Broad shoulders, huge arms, his fist was larger than Petrov's two fists put together. Hence the Wardrobe. This spring he should be demobilized and dreamed of staying on extra urgent.
In the evening we came to the river Kuneno, it was wide, more than 100 meters. They began to prepare rafts for the wounded and for equipment. Just before sunset, the Chukchi reported to the commander that he noticed a glare from the optics. We took up the defense. We decided to start the crossing before dawn. The nights are dark, even if you gouge your eyes out, you can't see anything. We did not sleep at night, listening intently to the unfamiliar sounds of the African nightlife.. The first to start the crossing were the conductor, the Cubans with the wounded and two soldiers, Vanya "Chisel" and Sasha "Superman". Before the army, living on the island of Kunashir (Kuril Islands), after watching Japanese films about ninjas, Vanya secretly practiced karate. He could punch through a brick wall with a punch of his fist. Petrov himself with Chisel after a year of service, stole on the farm. in the courtyard, an oak barrel, which they hid in the technical room, covering it with sheets of roofing material. (The battalion was assigned a service company and a guard company. They did not go to the guard and to the kitchen). We argued with warrant officers and officers for 50 marks that Vanya would pierce the barrel with his index finger. The barrel was put on the table in the smoking room, buckets were poured with water and Vanya, kneading, punched the oak wall with his finger and beat a stream of water. Then they went to the tea house and walked with lemonade, cakes and everyone's favorite, peanuts in chocolate.
Sasha was nicknamed "Superman" because other nicknames did not take root. He could pull himself up on one hand 5 times, and on the left 3 times, moreover, with a grip from the top. In his youth he was engaged in gymnastics, but due to the height of 180 cm, he had to leave. Then I did it myself. He had huge biceps and triceps, arms like an orangutan, long. Petrov saw such muscles only in the late 90s of professional bodybuilders who sat on chemotherapy, but none of them could even pull up on one arm once. But nicknames like "Orangutan" or "Gorilla" did not catch on. Although very closely matched the image, tk. Sasha quickly "soaped" the person who said - the neck. The only one with whom Superman was afraid to mess with was the Tin Woodman.
When the first group crossed, shots rang out, it was the Chukchi who overwhelmed two of the advance group of soldiers who were heading for the river. They were negroes, they lay down and started a firefight. It is clear that they were expecting reinforcements. The commander decided to leave the machine gunner for cover, and the rest to urgently cross over. Petrov had an unpleasant ache under the solar plexus when he gave Valentin 5 grenades and kept one for himself.
Petrov's grandfather was from Belarus, he died in 1943. The whole family in the fall of 1941, went to the partisans. My father did not go to first grade, but went to partisan. Before the start of the Battle of Kursk, the "Rail War" was unfolded, the grandfather was a machine gunner and the commander of a group that covered two demolition men. The order was, to protect the demolitions like the apple of an eye. They successfully reached the railroad bed, laid a mine and derailed a train with the Germans and equipment. They began to be pursued, an hour later there were already two killed and one wounded. The grandfather obviously understood that they would not go far with the wounded, and it was still about two hours before dark. He ordered to leave, and he himself, having collected all the grenades, remained to cover. They retreated along a forest road, between two swamps, the Germans could not get around it and were forced to attack head-on. The departing group of 5 people heard the sounds of the battle for an hour. The next day, when the scouts from the detachment came there, they did not find the grandfather, only a bloody mess on the sand. The Germans cut him into pieces, the bones were crushed, there was nothing to bury. From the side from which the Germans attacked, the scouts counted almost 60 bloody spots, it became clear why the Germans were such brutalized. My grandfather sold his life very dearly. He heard all this when, after finishing the 5th grade, he traveled with his father to his homeland, Belarus. The partisans who knew the grandfather were still alive.
And now, leaving Valentin with the captured Uzi machine gun, he was amazed that both his grandfather and Valik were machine gunners. Patting him on the shoulder, Petrov once again reminded him that as soon as they reach the other shore, he would withdraw, They would cover him with fire from the other side. While they were crossing, shooting was in full swing. There was no targeted fire on the river, only stray bullets splashed through the water. The roller did not allow the enemy to raise his head. Having crossed, Illarion, nicknamed "Nightingale the Robber", so nicknamed for his robber whistle, from which he had to plug his ears, whistled, giving a signal to Valentine. Hilarion was a citizen of Odessa, he joined the army at the age of 20. He graduated from the technical school of physical education and managed to work as a SAMBO wrestling coach. He was married and had a daughter. A few moments later, Valentin appeared on the bank slope, he was without a machine gun, only with an Uzi. He did not have time to go into the water and knee-deep, as in front of him, in front of about 10 meters, a mine hit. He bent over in half and, holding his stomach with his hands, staggered along the coast. We started shouting: “Into the water! Swim! " Apparently wounded and stunned, he did not understand what he was doing. 12 blacks ran from the slope into the water and surrounded Valentine. We didn’t shoot, we were afraid to hurt Valik. Suddenly they parted and joyfully began to shout, jumping up and down. One had Valentine's severed head stuck on the barrel of a rifle. The Chukchi was the first to come to his senses. He with SVD (Dragunov sniper rifle) shot a clip of 10 rounds, probably in less than three seconds, ten corpses. There were only two left on the other side, but they could not leave, the guys swept them away with an avalanche of lead. On the other side, the mortar began to beat, taking them into the fork, I had to retreat. Petrov ran, fighting his way through the bushes and brushed away tears that had come. He recalled how they dreamed at night, their beds stood next to each other, how they would study in Moscow, in a reconnaissance school. How they will meet beautiful Muscovites. Valentin wrote an application and submitted documents, he was already called by the special officer and said that a request had come to him. In a couple of months he should have a demobilization and study. Petrov is supposed to write an application later and join Valentin in six months. We jumped out onto the trail. They began to retreat along it. The commander ordered the sapper "Bandera" to place a mine on the trail. That is how they called Styopa. He was from Ukraine, from the Ternopil region. When he came young and was asked where this Ternopil was, he replied that it was Western Ukraine. So what are you with Bandera? To this he joked that every morning he waters the beds in the garden with machine oil. When asked why, he answered: "Schaub did not rust." Petrov covered, and Shakhtar helped Bandera dig a hole. Yura was called a miner because he managed to work in a mine before the army. He was from Krasniy Luch, Ukraine. Bendera put a mine, and the miner began to carefully cover it with earth, while he himself retreated into the bushes two meters to break the branches and cover up the tracks. Suddenly he screamed, swore and ran out onto the path. At a surprised look, Petrov showed his right hand. On the wrist, where the pulse is usually measured, two small holes were visible. He was bitten by a snake. Petrov threw off his satchel and began frantically looking for a first-aid kit, the kit included an antidote for snake bites. In less than five seconds, Stepan turned gray, the skin on his cheekbones tightened, capillaries began to burst in his eyes. He started to fall, but Yura - Shakhtar caught him. Petrov took out a syringe tube of serum and gave an injection, but it seemed already useless. He began to convulse, and bloody foam came out of his mouth. After a minute he was quiet. Yura was on his knees as if paralyzed and continued to support his head. He did not pay attention to Petrov's words, he did not hear them. Petrov had to turn him around and cut two strong slaps in the face from the left and right to bring him to his senses. He helped to take Yura, Styopa on his shoulder, and he himself carried three submachine guns. Somewhere, after a kilometer, at the turn of the path, a group was waiting for them. Seeing the deceased, Commander Khokhol groaned as if in pain. Within half an hour, two were killed. Petrov noticed that one of the Cubans had a bandaged head, it turned out that a stray bullet pierced his ear. I was very lucky, half a centimeter to the side and would have pierced my head. The killed was carried by the Cabinet. An hour later we went deep into a cleft between two mountains, after about ten minutes we came out to a stream. The water was clean, we got drunk and filled up in flasks. There was a small waterfall, where Stepa was buried in a crevice between two boulders, laying them with stones. With him, a submachine gun was put in an impromptu grave, hanging around his neck. The guys said goodbye, brushing away a tear, the Cubans watched from the sidelines, when the last fighter said goodbye, they approached and saluted, saluting. We walked all day, going deep into the mountains, taking turns carrying a stretcher. The Cubans worked with everyone on an equal footing. The guide, while Styopa was being buried, fled, taking advantage of the fact that they did not pay attention to him. By evening, the wounded Cuban came to his senses. The Cubans began to explain something to him. The commander ordered Byasha to feed the wounded.
He took out the so-called "Mackerel" from the dry ration kit. It was egg powder mixed with dark chocolate and ground peanuts and seasoned with linseed oil. Modern "Mars" and "Snickers" somewhat remind him in taste. This mixture was packed in jars, one to one, like canned fish "Mackerel". The jar contained 3,000 calories, and after eating it 15 minutes later, I felt like I was overeating. After heating the mixture on dry alcohol, Byasha passed it on to the Cubans. They took out a flask of rum from their backpack and gave a sip to the wounded man, after which they fed him. We stopped for the night in a gorge between felled trees. In the morning we climbed the mountain and for the first time the radio operator Illarion caught the wave on which the headquarters worked. The connection was unstable. We only managed to report that “my mother is doing well”. Then there was interference, it looks like the Yuarians were hammering the wave. An hour after the communication session, they heard the barking of dogs, it became clear that they were being followed.
The commander left Chukchi, Superman and Chisel, and additionally, as Petrov, who was left without a pair. I set the task to eliminate the dogs by any means. Petrov would have preferred to stay with the Tin Woodman and the Little Dragon, they were thinking, and he was friendly with them. The chisel first hit, and then thought whether it was worth hitting. Superman was too arrogant and overly confident. But the Chukchi had enough worldly wisdom for three. For an ambush, they chose a clearing, on which there was no vegetation for 30-35 meters. When the dog breeder appeared, they let him through to the middle and the sniper took the dog off with two shots. Petrov fired a grenade from the grenade at the group that appeared after the dog breeder. Fighting off in short bursts, saving cartridges, they began to retreat. Hiding behind trees, Petrov fired singles. They were taught to hit the target with the first shot. If the "Westerners" were trained to shoot in burst, raising the machine gun from the bottom up and leading a path of bullets to the target, then they were with one shot. With peripheral vision, Petrov noticed some movement on the right. He turned and saw a group of 15 people who were bypassing them. He called out to Chisel, which was closer, and they carried the fire. They were already 40-50 meters away. And then he saw how two dogs were lowered onto them, black, with thin legs, such as he had not seen in the Soviet Union. Later in the 90s, he saw them again in American action films and learned that the breed is called the Doberman. He shot the nearest dog, but missed. In the army, they were taught how to fight dogs, he just did not know that this breed is very jumpy and can move much faster than the shepherd dogs on which they trained. Before he had time to get ready, the dog, spreading out in a jump, aimed at his throat. He managed to stick out his left forearm, which the dog grabbed onto. The sensation of pain was such that the arm was hit with an armature. The right hand automatically grabbed the knife and he hit the gripping dog in the belly, directing the blow from the bottom up. There was a chilling screech, from which all the nerves tied inside. The dog unclenched his jaws and fell, rolling on the grass.
Chisel met the second dog with a direct kick to the head. The dog with the same speed with which it was rushing, flew off, hit its back against a tree and did not utter a silence. For luck, Petrov's left hand obeyed, he could move it. The negroes were already 5-6 meters away. He shot the nearest one and he fell. He knocked off the rifle barrel with a bayonet and threw it over the thigh, the one that bumped into him on the right. Suddenly there was a hum in my head, as if a jet plane was taking off somewhere and time stopped for Petrov. He began to see everything as in slow motion. He saw how the Negro again tried to poke him in the face with a bayonet, but he did it all very slowly. Petrov sat down without any problems and, with all the foolishness, hit the barrel of the machine gun from the bottom up. The muzzle brake of the barrel, together with the front sight of the AKMS, entered under the lower jaw, and came out in the region of the nose. The skull cracked like a walnut. Then he noticed Chisel, who was fighting with three, two were already lying next to him. Dodging one, Ivan threw out his hand with lightning speed, he beat with a straight, hard palm, like a lance. The palm entered the Negro's belly up to the wrist, he pulled it back, clenched into a fist, pulling the intestines out. Seeing this, the other two ran. Taking a pistol from one of the dead, Petrov hurried to the aid of Superman and Chukche. Superman was dying, he had a knife in his back, 4 corpses lay next to him, the fifth was lying to the side. Apparently he stabbed Sasha in the back while he was fighting the others. But Superman lived up to his nickname, he managed, having received a knife blow, from a turn, with the edge of his palm to break the attacker's neck from behind. His head was thrown back like a rag doll. Superman had almost completely lost his strength, he could no longer move his arms and only quietly asked Vanya to shoot him. It was evident that he was in great pain. Vanya began to take painkillers from his backpack. Petrov left his friends and hurried to the Chukchi. The Chukchi fought with four at once, four more lay on the ground. He had a very peculiar technique, which he called "soft hands." He was taught by his friends in the village, who were distant descendants of the Cossacks, who were exiled to Siberia in the eighteenth century, for some kind of guilt, before the king. The bottom line is that there are no blocks, no hard hits. Any blow was met with soft hands, followed along the way, helping, and at the end point was directed to the side at 90 degrees. The effect performed by Kolya - Chukchi was amazing. Petrov adopted several techniques from him. Petrov took out a trophy pistol and began to shoot the attackers, as in a shooting range from 5 meters. When the third fell, the survivor ran. They didn't let him go far, the Chukchi shot him. Raising the dying Sasha, they carried him. After about 10 minutes, he let out a deep sigh, asked loudly: “Don't write to your mother,” and died. Having found a tree upturned in the forest, they buried Sasha - Superman in a hole under the roots. Until the end of the day, they were led by the Chukchi, relying on his instinct. Before sunset, we cleaned up the remains of dry rations. We slept in turns. In the morning, about four hours later, the Chukchi took them to the group. The miner guiltily hid his eyes from the commander. He was on guard and missed the guys' approach. The Cubans chuckled, listening to the commander's statements about Shakhtar. They told what happened. The guys honored Sasha with a minute of silence. The task remained the same, to enter the zone of stable communication, find a suitable site and evacuate the wounded and the group. The immediate task is to get food, they are not left at all and to replenish the ammunition. Now we were moving to the North-West. Two hours later we went to the road. It was decided to disguise the wounded, he seems to have gone through a crisis and he was on the mend, a Cuban - a doctor, a radio operator and Petrov. Since his bitten hand became inflamed. The doctor has already given him an antibiotic injection. The rest went in search. They disguised themselves about 300 meters from the road and took turns on duty. The group returned in the evening. They brought food, water, ammunition, but returned without the commander, Byasha and Miner.
As they said, they met a truck on the road. Which roofing felts broke, roofing felts it was a post. There were 13 soldiers there. One was in the cockpit, the others in the shade under the truck. We decided to take it quietly, in knives. The bushes could be approached 4-5 meters. The sniper insured, if anything, he had to remove the one in the cockpit. It turned out quickly and silently. The Tin Woodman distinguished himself, he removed three, including the one in the cockpit. When everyone had already lowered the knives, from under the awning of the body, a burst of automatic weapons was heard there turned out to be one more - 14. The Chukchi could not take it off. I did not see it, it was on the other side and it was covered with a tarpaulin awning. The miner and Byasha, who were nearby, behind the car, died immediately. The cabinet threw a knife, it stuck into the eye socket of the shooter, who was already dead, rolling over the side, reflexively pulled the trigger. The bullet accidentally hit the commander, who ran out from behind the side of the car. The ensign had no chance, the bullet was off-center and hit him in the left side. He died without regaining consciousness.
After they ate, the Cuban, he was an officer, his name was Alberto, gathered everyone for a meeting. He was a military intelligence officer, explained how and how they made the decision that he would be in command. The next day we moved further towards the front. We walked without incident, the terrain was different. Small forests, shrubs, open areas overgrown with tall grass, with sparsely standing trees. And in such an open area they were intercepted by a helicopter. It was a small helicopter armed with one machine gun. He jumped out at low altitude, gave a burst and left with a climb into a U-turn. The guys fell, turned over, as taught on their backs, weapons at the ready. The little dragon took out a grenade and loaded an RPG (hand-held anti-tank grenade launcher), got down on one knee, took aim, waited and fired when the helicopter went straight. There was an explosion and the helicopter collapsed in the air, Petrov saw two figures tumbling about. There was a second explosion when the debris hit the ground. Alberto ordered to search the corpses of the pilots, to find maps. One of the killed was found. They began to leave and then noticed that there was no Nightingale the robber. Found him a minute later.
Hilarion was lying face down. A large-caliber bullet pierced the radio on the back and hit the radio operator. They took him with them. They carried it for almost three hours, going further away. We found a suitable place, put Hilarion and the radio there, it was completely torn apart. Digging the ground with knives, they poured it into a hole and put a stone on top. Our new commander ordered the doctor something in Spanish. He took out a flask and poured each of them a sip of rum. All the victims were remembered. Out of a group of 15 people who went out on a mission (not counting the guide and the wounded), only 8 remained. Now our task has become even more complicated. There was no hope of evacuating by air, it was necessary to independently cross the front line. The commander led the group into the thickets and ordered them to rest until morning. The wounded Cuban had already grown stronger and could rise. Tomorrow, as soon as they began to move, they ran into blacks with spears. It was not possible to catch or shoot them, they quickly disappeared into the bushes, there were four of them in total. They were kind of stunted. Angolan men are generally tall and physically fit. Petrov felt rather well, his hand ached a little, but the inflammation was gone, the injections took effect, which the doctor did. The Chukchi, who walked first, raised his hand, attention! Everyone froze. He listened for a long time, and then whispered that someone was crying. By order of the commander, Petrov went with the Chukchi. They made their way cautiously through the bushes, a group of trees appeared in front of them. Now Petrov also heard the crying of children. Under the trees, they found a dead woman of about 17 years old, and a girl of about three years old was sitting and crying nearby. Judging by the swollen left leg and the cramped body, she was bitten by a snake. This happened no more than two hours ago. It is possible that they were looking for the natives they met nearby. Petrov gave the girl water to drink and gave the trophy candy, she calmed down. They came to ours. They decided to take the child with them, otherwise jackals or other animals would have killed him. Petrov wrapped her up in a spare vest, she was naked and placed in a knapsack, leaving only her head. We moved carefully, taking turns replacing each other at the stretcher. Petrov by hand was released. Alberto often consulted a map and compass. We went out to the village, which was burned down. The little dragon and the Tin Woodman went to scout and look for water. When they returned, they reported that the well was littered with corpses, apparently the South African people were in charge here. An hour later we went to the mine, the entrance to the mine was guarded. An inclined ventilation drift was found to the side. This mine was marked on the map of the deceased pilot. The commander decided to check what could be there. In reconnaissance, light, having unloaded the excess, everyone went, except for the wounded, the doctor and Petrov. About an hour later, Cabinet and Chisel appeared. They took 4 magnetic time mines from their backpacks and went back. It turned out to be a large ammunition depot in the mine. The passage leading from the ventilation drift was mined. But Cabinet, he was the second miner in the squad, removed the mines. Soon everyone showed up, packed their things and started to leave. After 45 minutes, after the start of the movement, a distant rumble was heard and the ground shook. The next morning, the commander announced that we were already close to the front line, we need to be especially careful. The girl behaved well, did not cry. Petrov fed her, she trustingly hugged him by the neck. All the guys spoiled her as best they could, played with her on halts. The Tin Woodman taught her to speak PA-PA on Petrov. In the evening, the Chukchi, with the permission of the commander, shot an antelope with small, 30 centimeters horns. They dug a depression in the hollow and when it was getting dark they lit a fire. They fried meat and boiled water. The wounded Cuban could already sit and move with help. He also ate meat, the doctor gave him pills. It is good that there was salt, otherwise the meat did not go without bread. It tasted like beef kebab. In the morning everyone got up strong, well rested. We decided to carry the wounded man on his back to make the group more mobile. For this, the Tin Woodman, Little Dragon, Cabinet, Chisel and the commander were allocated. The commander was actually a tough guy, under one meter ninety. Somewhere around the age of 30. The doctor was small, frail, he had an obvious admixture of Negro blood. Let's go "Indian snake" or as we called "caterpillar". The Chukchi walked first, his sector of responsibility was right in front of him, at an angle of 120 degrees, behind him, in the back of his head, at a distance of 2-3 meters, the next one, which was observing from the left, at an angle of 90 degrees, the third walking person was watching from the right, the fourth from the left, etc..d. The trailing Petrov was responsible for the rear. They walked like this, replacing each other, to carry the wounded for five hours. Halt. Some have moved away to relieve themselves. Soon everyone gathered except the Whelp. He appeared twenty minutes later and not one, but with two white men in military uniform. As it turned out, having relieved his need, he noticed that a small herd of antelopes quickly broke off and ran nearby. He wondered what had frightened them off. After a couple of minutes, he noticed three armed men. Two whites and one negro. It turned out to be signalmen, they were pulling the cable. The Negro was carrying the coils, one of the white ones was laying the wire, and the second, apparently, was the commander of this group. The dragon decided to take the white ones. An officer helped him in this, he let
pants and sat down under a bush. Taking off the black man with a knife, he took the officer with his pants down, and the second, as soon as he saw the directed machine gun, immediately raised his hands. The officer came in, supporting his pants with his hands. The Cuban doctor, knew English and interrogated the prisoners. It turned out that they were pulling a wire from the regiment's command post to a battery of self-propelled howitzers. The front line was about four kilometers away. The prisoners willingly answered all questions. The officer showed on the map where the front and the battery were. I was just surprised that they have a South African military card. They decided to take the officer with them. Bypassed the location of the battery. It was located not far from the road that went beyond the other front line. Reasoning that the main forces are concentrated near the road, they decided to leave for 10 kilometers and move parallel to the road. The officer's belt was removed, the buttons on his trousers were cut off, his hands were tied in front. He was forced to go and hold his pants. A heavier knapsack was hung by the shoulders. An hour and a half later, at the first halt, he was very surprised when he saw the guys giving water to drink and giving biscuits to Angola. So they named the girl. The name Angolka was invented by Vasya - Cabinet. He said that kittens are called by their names, and this is a man! “Why are you bothering with this black-ass pig,” the doctor translated the words of the prisoner for us. There was an oppressive silence. The Tin Woodman who was guarding him stepped up to him and ran his hand over his face. That nose shifted to the right. The doctor had to stick cotton swabs into the nostrils to stop the bleeding. All the guys gasped happily: "So he needs a bitch!" The prisoner's eyes were surprised - surprised. Less, but also surprised, all three Cubans looked at our reaction. We moved until dark. At dawn, the Closet lifted everyone up. He was a sentinel and reported that he heard voices from the north direction. Cabinet, Chukchi, Dragonchik and Petrov went on reconnaissance. Carefully heading in the direction from which the cabinet had heard the voices, they were 70 meters later, through binoculars they found a group of 6 people, in camouflage. They moved to the South, taking precautions. Little Dragon was sent to report to the commander. And they themselves continued to follow the group. Soon everyone arrived except the doctor, the wounded and the prisoner. The commander watched through binoculars for a long time, without making a decision. At the edge of the bush, the strangers made a halt, opened their backpacks, and took out canned food. The commander made a decision, we will take it by surprise. They sneaked up so that the bush did not budge. In general, during this week they got along with nature, became an organic part of it, and training in camouflage and survival taught a lot. The commander waved his hand, Petrov in two jumps overcame 7 meters, to the nearest of those who were sitting and put a machine gun to his head. He choked with fright and went into a suffocating cough. The chisel knocked out two of them with his feet, the others, seeing the directed submachine guns, froze. Petrov repeated from excitement “Hyundai hoh! Hyundai hoh! " The commander showed his hands, they raised. Tied up, took away the weapon. Petrov drew attention to the fact that all were armed with Kalashnikov assault rifles. He took out a tin can from one of his knapsacks, on it was written "Buckwheat porridge with meat" in Russian. I showed it to the commander. He turned to the captives in Spanish, they looked at each other incredulously. He took a document wrapped in waterproof celluloid from an inner pocket and showed it. They took turns studying for a long time, asking some questions and exchanging incredulous glances. They did not have any documents. They sent for a doctor, a wounded and a prisoner. When they came and the doctor and the wounded Cuban began to communicate with them, the captured six began to look at each other in surprise. Then, the commander began to say something pointing at us. One of the prisoners asked in Russian: "Who are you?" We looked at Alberto, he shook his head. “We are Russians,” said Rustam.
"Are you Russian?" - the questioner was surprised.
Rustam has overgrown with a black curly beard in a week. His bristles grew instantly. In the first month of service, he received outfits out of turn several times for not shaving. Although Petrov himself saw how he scrape with a chime to the blue. And only after the "old men" stood up for him before the foreman, and he personally arranged an inspection for the Tin Woodman, only then left him alone. On the head are the same black shiny hair, with a tint of a raven's wing, a dark-skinned face. Rather, he could be mistaken for an Arab or a Jew, but not for a Russian.
"We are Soviet" - Rustam corrected himself: "And I am an Armenian!"
Each of us confirmed in Russian that we are Soviet, Soviet army.
Then they said that they were Cubans, the regimental intelligence went on a mission behind enemy lines. They untied their hands, but they did not give up their weapons and they led us to their own.
Two hours later, they were in the location of the regiment. On the radio, the commander contacted the higher headquarters. In the morning, they said, a helicopter will arrive. For the first time in all days, they washed their hands and face with soap and shaved. In the evening, they said they would arrange a shower. Angola was very surprised that Petrov turned white, she touched his cheeks with interest. Alberto came and told Petrov that the girl should be taken to the medical unit and left there, he agreed. Rustam and Sasha - the Dragon, got in touch with him. The medical unit was located in a long barrack-type building in the settlement. The regiment's headquarters were located two kilometers from the outskirts of the village. Their appearance caused a slight commotion in the medical unit. The entire female medical staff came running. They were all dressed in fitted, translucent, nylon robes up to mid-thigh length, the last button on the robes was 15 centimeters higher. White bras and panties were visible through the robes. In general, almost all Cubans are puffy, but at the same time curvy and tightly knit. Two were light chocolate, the head physician was white, the rest were Latinos, with different variations. Seeing this flower garden, the Little Dragon immediately arched its wide chest with a wheel. Rustam strained himself and began to mow with his hot Armenian eye. The Cubans laughed at their appearance, tugged at the ribbons sewn onto their overalls, glanced at each other coquettishly. Petrov, observing this from the sidelines, laughed heartily. Two tall handsome men, dressed in incomprehensible rags, surrounded by pretty women, looked like stallions who were digging the ground with their hoof, feeling that now they would rush in a fast race! From all this noise, Angola burst into tears, the head physician, the captain (Petrov saw a uniform in her office), said in Russian, with an accent: "Come on," and went. He followed her. She asked the girl's name, where she came from. Then she asked the name of Petrov. So she wrote in the journal, Angolka Petrova. When he left the office, he saw that the Little Dragon was already patting two on the ass at once, and the Tin Woodman was circling carefully, setting two of the cutest in his arms. The captain of the medical service ordered and one of the nurses took the girl. Angola started crying, stretching out her hands to Petrov and repeating, PA-PA, PA-PA. Petrov felt that a piece of ice appeared under his heart, he quickly left and went to look for Alberto to report.
In the evening, the Cuban intelligence officers gave them a dinner, displaying two bottles of Cuban rum and a bottle of Stolichnaya. When asked where Stolichnaya came from, they said it was a trophy. Tomorrow, the helicopter picked them up at 11 o'clock. The crew was Cuban again. They were met by the chief of the detachment's reconnaissance and an unknown general. As it turned out from the intelligence department of the General Staff. Then for three days they wrote reports about the past, clarified if something did not match.
We were transferred to Luanda and given a week's rest. And on February 23, they were loaded onto the landing ship "Voronezhsky Komsomolets" and 10 days later landed in Bulgaria, in the port of Burgas. From there they were airlifted to the GDR. Since then, Petrov has been celebrating the Day of the Soviet Army alone. He remembers his dead friends, the girl Angola Petrova, listens to war songs, or about Afghanistan (there are no songs about Angola), drinks vodka and cries quietly. Only once a year does he allow himself to get drunk.
On May 9, 1976, at a ceremonial formation, the Little Dragon and the Tin Woodman were awarded the Order of the Red Star, the Chukchi Medal For Courage. Petrov, Cabinet, Chisel and seven other people received a personalized watch. The monogram reads: "To Private Petrov personally from the Commander-in-Chief of the GSVG."
P. S
Petrov did not write an application for admission to the intelligence school.
Rustam, a month later they took him to Moscow. The colonel arrived, Rustam was summoned to the headquarters, they persuaded him for four hours. Then he was given five minutes to get ready, the colonel personally accompanied him to the barracks and on the Berlin-Moscow train. Rustam only managed to whisper to his friend Sasha, the Little Dragon, that he was being taken away to carry out some very important special assignment. Nobody else heard anything about him.
The dragon drowned two years after demobilization while swimming in the Desna. Having taken a kebab with vodka well on his chest, Sasha dived into the water from the bridge support. The temperature drop caused cerebral vasospasm. Found him two days later downstream.
A request came to Chukchi, he was taken by a sniper to the Alpha group, the chairman of the KGB Andropov just began to form it, in preparation for the Olympics in Moscow, in 1980. In 1996, Petrov met him by chance in the metro in Kiev, at the Arsenalnaya station. More precisely, the Chukchi spotted him in the crowd, and imperceptibly came up from behind, poked something hard in the side and said: "Hyundai hoh!" They went to the Salut hotel near the Dnieper. We sat down on the terrace and talked until morning, in the morning he flew to Moscow. The Chukchi was a colonel, responsible for training snipers. At the moment I was traveling from Budapest by train, in Kiev, transfer to a plane. He knew nothing of the Tin Woodman either.
The cabinet remained on long-term service, graduated from the warrant officer training. Petrov corresponded with him for a long time, until 1982, when Vasya was transferred to Afghanistan and communication with him was cut off. When the Chukchi met, he said that he had heard that Vasily and his entire group of 5 people had gone missing in the area of Quetta, Pakistan, while completing a mission.
Vanya - Chisel, after demobilization he entered the Institute of Soviet Trade in Vladivostok. At the beginning of perestroika, he started supplying used cars from Japan. In 1990 he organized a brigade. He quickly went up the hill, he had several former intelligence officers and counterintelligence officers of the Pacific Fleet, the rest were mostly former marines. Mercedes, yachts, houses, diamonds, long-legged models, a typical set of new Russians from the 90s. In 94, at 38 he got married, Petrov flew to the wedding. Never in his life did Petrov get so drunk, neither before nor after. Five months after the wedding, Ivan had twins. In 97, a redistribution of spheres of influence began in Vladivostok. They shot and blew up everyone in a row. Vanya could hit anyone in the face, but he could not kill and blow up. He dismissed the brigade and, saving the family, left for Manila. Six months later, walking through the city in the evening, he stood up for a Russian prostitute, who was beaten and humiliated by a Filipino pimp. Having received it on the neck, he called for help. Six people came running with knives. When the police arrived, Vanya was covered in blood, his hands were cut, there were four corpses lying around, the rest ran away. The police just shot him. Then they said that he tried to attack them with a knife.
In the fall, Petrov demobilized. For about four months he went out for a walk after 10 pm, looking for "thrill" sensations. Then he went in for sports and switched. In May, when the air temperature rose above 20 degrees, Petrov's skin began to burst and peel off, to the point of blood. He went to the doctors. For five years he was smeared with various ointments and solutions, shoved with pills and injections. Nothing helped. Some kind of rare eczema, the doctors concluded. But when the sun disappeared, at least for 4-5 days everything went away for Petrov. In 1981, he met an old sports friend. Who was 3 years older than him. After school, he entered the Military Medical Academy in Leningrad. Upon graduation, he was sent to Ethiopia and worked there as a surgeon for two years. There was a war with Somalia and ours provided assistance to Ethiopia. Now he came on vacation to visit his mother. Petrov told him about the illness and where he had been, despite the fact that before demobilization, in a special department he signed a commitment
"On nondisclosure." After listening to Petrov, he said that his illness was due to a problem on a nervous basis. Let Petrov, on the contrary, do not try to forget what he saw there, but remember everything, reconsider, as it were, he will relive. And so it happened after Petrov, in detail, day after day, remembered everything that was in Angola, the eczema was gone forever. In addition, he said that a closed resolution of the Central Committee of the CPSU had been issued and that Petrov, as a participant in hostilities, was entitled to privileges. A week later, Petrov pulled himself together and went to the military registration and enlistment office. The military commissar ordered to bring his personal file, leafed through it for a long time, and then said that benefits were granted only to those who fought in Afghanistan.. Petrov stood up, dumbfounded, and left. Coming out of the military registration and enlistment office, he had an unpleasant ache under the solar plexus and he thought how rotten this power is. She won't last long. Okay, he is alive and healthy, the dead also do not need benefits and pensions. But after all, someone from Angola left without a leg, stepped on a mine, someone lost an eye from a grenade fragment. Someone's hand withered after being bitten by a snake, survived, but the hand withered. Someone remained semi-paralyzed, after the poison of the scorpion. After Angola, almost 40 people were discharged from their detachment. They did not ask to go there, they were following the order of the CPSU, as the guiding and leading party of the USSR. And this party, for its fighters, defenders, regretted the unfortunate 50 rubles. After the military registration and enlistment office, he went to the district doctor and for 25 rubles "issued" a sick leave for himself. All this week he drank, listening at full volume, Vysotsky's songs about the war. From time to time a local policeman came in and asked him to muffle the music. He sat down, drank with him three 50 grams each, had a snack and recalled his service, how he guarded the convicts. He respected Petrov, tk. It was enough for Petrov to tell any punks in the area that they say calm down and she was becoming silk. After the district police officer left, Petrov cut in a sound and cried bitterly, listening to the words:
