In 1904, the Russian inventor Mikhail Mikhailovich Pomortsev received a new material - tarpaulin: a canvas cloth soaked in a mixture of paraffin, rosin and egg yolk. The properties of the new, very cheap material very much resembled leather: it did not allow moisture to pass through, but at the same time it breathed. True, its purpose at first was rather narrow: during the Russo-Japanese War, ammunition for horses, bags and covers for artillery were made from tarpaulin.
The material of Pomortsev was appreciated at its true worth, it was already decided to produce boots from tarpaulin, but their production was not established at that time. Mikhail Mikhailovich died, and the boots that were never made, so to speak, were put aside for almost twenty years.
The soldier's shoes owe their second birth to chemist Ivan Vasilyevich Plotnikov, a native of the Tambov region, a graduate of the Dmitri Mendeleev Moscow Institute of Chemical Technology. The production of "kirzach" was established in the country, but their first use showed that in the cold the boots cracked, hardened and became brittle. A special commission was assembled, Ivan Vasilyevich was asked:
- Why is your tarpaulin so cold and does not breathe?
“Because the bull and the cow have not yet shared all their secrets with us,” the chemist replied.
For such insolence, Plotnikov, of course, could have been punished. However, this was not done. He was instructed to improve the technology for the production of tarpaulin.
… The Great Patriotic War began. The importance of comfortable and cheap soldier's shoes turned out to be so significant that Kosygin himself was in charge of this issue. After all, the army demanded huge material resources, neither army shoes, nor boots were sorely lacking. There was simply nothing to make leather shoes. And the Soviet government even issued a closed order on the start of production of bast shoes for the Red Army, so that at least for the summer time to put shoes on soldiers and have time to resolve the issue with boots.
At the beginning of the war, Ivan Vasilyevich Plotnikov was taken into the Moscow militia. However, within a few weeks, many scientists were returned to the rear. Plotnikov was appointed director and at the same time chief engineer of the Kozhimit plant and set the task to improve the technology of making tarpaulin boots as soon as possible.
Plotnikov coped with the task in a short time - by the end of 1941, the production of boots was established in the city of Kirov, where he worked at that time.
Many believe that the kerza got its name precisely because Kirov became the first industrial city (Kirza for short is Kirovsky Zavod). And there is an opinion that the boots are named so because they were originally made using coarse woolen fabric, originating in the English village of Kersey, where a special breed of sheep was bred for a long time. There is also a version that the boot's "name" came from the name of the cracked and frozen upper layer of the earth - the tarpaulin (remember, the first tarpaulin also turned out to be brittle in the cold).
So the production was set up. The boots were immediately highly appreciated by the soldiers: high - no swamp is scary, practically waterproof, but at the same time breathable. The cuff protects against mechanical damage, injury and burns. Another undoubted plus: there is no longer the need for laces and zippers. However, wearing kirzachi on toes was very inconvenient: after a few hours, the sock would certainly knock over the heel and calluses appeared. And it turned out to be difficult to provide the entire army with socks of the required size. Russian ingenuity came to the rescue: footcloths! One has only to wrap them correctly around the leg - and the problem is solved. Moreover, if they get wet, they can be wound with the other side down - and the leg will still remain dry, and the wet edge of the fabric will dry out, wrapped around the ankle. In the cold, the soldiers wound several footcloths at once, and put newspapers in the spacious top of the tarpaulin: an air corridor was created and at the same time a layer - and heat was kept. And what can we say about the fact that you can make a footcloth from anything. There is no need to pick up a pair for it and look for the right size. Lines from Kataev's famous story "The Son of the Regiment" come to mind:
“… - So, shepherd boy,” Bidenko said sternly, edifyingly, “it turns out that you didn't make a real soldier, let alone an artilleryman. What kind of battery are you, if you don't even know how to wrap your footcloth properly? You are not a battery, dear friend…. Therefore, one thing: you have to be taught how to wrap footcloths, as it should be for every cultured warrior. And this will be your first soldier's science. Look.
With these words, Bidenko spread his footcloth on the floor and firmly put his bare foot on it. He put it slightly obliquely, closer to the edge, and slipped this triangular edge under his fingers. Then he pulled the long side of the footcloth tightly, so that not a single wrinkle appeared on it. He admired the tight cloth a little and suddenly, with lightning speed, with a light, precise air movement, he wrapped his leg, wrapped the heel abruptly with the cloth, grabbed it with his free hand, made an acute angle and wrapped the rest of the footcloth in two turns around the ankle. Now his leg was tight, without a single wrinkle, swaddled like a child …"
Of course, the boots did not shine with beauty and grace, as, for example, American boots. However, here is a quote from the book of General O. Bradley, the author of the book "The Story of a Soldier": "By the end of January (we are talking about the last war winter of 1944-1945), the disease of rheumatism of the legs reached such a large extent that the American command was at a standstill. We were completely unprepared for this disaster, partly as a result of our own negligence; by the time we began instructing the soldiers on how to care for their feet and what to do to keep their boots dry, rheumatism had already spread through the army with the swiftness of the plague. They got sick and because of this were out of order about twelve thousand people … Shoes, count, in a month, destroyed an entire American division. The Soviet Army did not know this misfortune …"
By the end of the Great Patriotic War, the Red Army numbered about ten million soldiers, shod in tarpaulin shoes. The efficiency of this production in the first years was approximately thirty million rubles a year.
And what about Plotnikov? For his invention in April 1942, he was awarded the Stalin Prize. During his life, he prepared about 200 scientific and technical works, received more than fifty copyright certificates. Ivan Vasilyevich lived to a ripe old age and died in 1995. Today Vocational School No. 7 in the village of Novikova bears his name: earlier it was a parish school, which Ivan Vasilyevich graduated from.
And in the village of Zvezdnoye, Perm Territory, a monument to tarpaulin boots is erected. They are made in such a way that everyone can try them on.
It remains to add the following. Not far from my house, literally ten minutes walk, there is a small army shop. Recently I went there and had a conversation with the seller: do they take kirzachs nowadays? Take. They are in great demand among hunters and fishermen. As a comment, the seller listed me the excellent properties of these boots. But I have already written about them above.
