Sep 25, 2017

Cadres are everything Roman Zlotnikov

(estimates: 1 , the average: 5,00 out of 5)

Title: Cadres decide everything

About the book "Human Resources Decide Everything" Roman Zlotnikov

The book "Cadres Decide Everything" is a continuation of the novel and cycle under the same name "Elite of the Elites". Like the first part, Roman Zlotnikov wrote it in the genre of alternative history, which is created by moving our contemporaries in time or space or by the influence of fantastic characters on any significant historical event.

Arseny Alexander Ray, an imperial guardsman from the distant future, in which mankind has advanced deep into the galaxy and even has colonies there, by the will of fate and the author's will finds himself in 1941 in the besieged city of Brest. Now his name is Captain Kunitsyn, and his main goal is to end the bloody war with the enemy of his new homeland as soon as possible and turn it into a powerful Empire. The path to this lies through the education of the new elite of the country from those who are wholeheartedly devoted to their Motherland and strive to be needed by her and the people. After all, it is the cadres that decide everything! And although the task for Captain Kunitsyn is not an easy one, he is a man of great abilities who can teach them to others. After all, he is one of the "elite of elites" of the space Empire, people who think and act according to the code of Duty and Honor. And although now in his team there are only ordinary people who survived after the defeat of parts of the Soviet army, he was not used to retreating. Such as he, successfully repulse the elite units of the Wehrmacht, persistently rushing into the depths of the USSR. People like him always go to the end and win where it seems unthinkable to win.

It is not easy to write about time that historians have laid out almost brick by brick. It is even more difficult to fit into the canvas of the happened reality a hero from the unreal world of science fiction. The author is rigidly squeezed by the story into the framework of such a past, familiar from childhood. But Roman Zlotnikov coped with the task outlined by himself perfectly. The book "Personnel is everything" is primarily about a person who does not give up in difficult situations. It provides an opportunity not only to reflect on the history and events of the Great Patriotic War, but also teaches you to think, take responsibility for your decisions and act. That is why Roman Zlotnikov pays a lot of attention to the inner experiences of the heroes and, having undertaken to read the novel, together with the author, you try to figure out: why does a person act this way and not otherwise, what motivates him, how was his character formed? In addition, the writer carefully studied the historical basis. Therefore, reading his version of the development of events is useful both for the general outlook and for understanding how it was possible to change the course of history.

The style of the book "Cadres Decide Everything" is an action movie, but in its meaning it is a philosophical reflection on priorities, life values, goals, attitude to the world and our place in it, about what each of us can bring to it in order to live better ... Hope that the continuation of the story will not be long in coming.

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Quotes from the book "Human Resources Decide Everything" Roman Zlotnikov

And the fact that some part of the persistent, honest and talented will die in this case is a much lesser evil for the Empire than the elite of the elite, consisting of these very selfish, cynical, greedy and cowardly.

Directly military art, tactics - this is only the very first, one might say, the simplest level. The second, which here goes under the name of operational art, is almost exclusively logistics. How to make sure that your subunits and units are in one or another key point at a certain moment in time, and the enemy’s units and subunits that are capable of preventing them would not have time to get there? How to maintain mobility and, accordingly, the reaction rate of your troops and reduce them for enemy troops? Where to concentrate the supply, where to transfer it and how to deprive this enemy? At what moment will it be most profitable to do this? .. Well, and so on ...

Several "maxims", capable of literally pouring fire on targets, as if from a cannon, without fear of overheating and jamming, and with an effective fire range of over a kilometer, will also not interfere.

The materiel can be restored, but people need to be taught for years, or even decades. In any case, the command is absolutely certain. That is, if you destroy people, create a new unit with a level of efficiency comparable to the currently achieved level, the Germans, with a high degree of probability, will not be able to until the end of the war.

What is given for free is illusory, and you will not even notice how it will slip through your fingers.

Who wants to do - is looking for a way, who does not want - a reason.

"If you cannot become invisible, become the one who is not feared, or, in extreme cases, the one whose presence they simply cannot believe."

Any other elite - great artists, brilliant engineers, unique programmers, talented financiers, athletes, industrialists, and so on - can be hired. And from anywhere - from another people, from a neighboring planet, from a foreign country. But the elite of the highest category, that is, the elite of the elite or the nobility, can only be created, educated, and nurtured within the state itself. And it can only be created through service.

In the same second, the "maxims" started working. Several angry, average in duration, bursts of six to seven rounds, then a couple of seconds to fix the "caught" elevation angle with the elevation screws, and immediately the "maxim" crown - long, until the water boils in the casings, heavy bursts, crossing out confused, twitching, partly already trying to lie down figures of enemy soldiers. An almost continuous roar, covering the space in front of the machine guns and sweeping out everything that is in the firing sector and on the vertical aiming range fixed with screws as if with a broom.

Prohibitions need to be very, very careful. Because any prohibitions distort reality. Moreover, very often prohibitions, seemingly designed to protect society, actually greatly weaken it. Because they do not give him the opportunity to develop immunity to that harmful and vile, from which this prohibition is trying to protect this society. And when this abomination finally breaks through into society (and this certainly happens, sooner or later), a significant part of its constituent people begin to happily practice it, believing that by doing so they demonstrate to everyone their freedom, civilization, open-mindedness, and so on. ...

The second book from the "Elite of the Elite" series, written by Roman Zlotnikov, continues the story of the hero-hit. However, the novel "Cadres Decide Everything" is not quite similar to the first one, the emphasis has shifted here. To a greater extent, attention is paid to combat actions, a description of the tactics of warfare, the dangers that the main character and his unit have to face.

Arseny arrived from the distant future in 1941, when the German army was advancing confidently and brutally towards the center of the Soviet Union. Now he is called Captain Kunitsyn. He knows how to inspire, helps to gather strength, showing the almost impossible. He teaches how to win in such conditions when it seems inconceivable. Captain Kunitsyn will do everything to protect his homeland, and his main goal is to create a new elite of society. These will be people who are ready for a lot for the sake of their country and people.

The writer not only reveals the hero's talents and his worldview, but he also shares useful information with readers to help them better represent what is described. The book contains many commentaries, footnotes, concerning not only weapons and historical details, but also the philosophical component of the novel. The author shares his opinion, citing some facts to support his thoughts. Thanks to this, the novel not only makes it possible to enjoy the description of the hostilities, but also makes one think and compare some data in order to draw conclusions.

The work was published in 2015 by AST publishing house. The book is part of the Elite Elite series. On our site you can download the book "Human Resources Decide Everything" in fb2, rtf, epub, pdf, txt format or read online. The rating of the book is 3.5 out of 5. Here you can also refer to the reviews of readers who are already familiar with the book and find out their opinions before reading. In the online store of our partner, you can buy and read a book in paper form.

Here he is known as Captain Kunitsyn - a man who is able not only to work miracles, but also to teach the same to others. And the most important of these miracles is to win where victory is unthinkable. Go to the end. Successfully confront the elite units of the Wehrmacht, which were striving with all their might to the very heart of the Soviet Union in the terrible summer of 1941.

His real name is Arseny Alexander Ray. He is an emperor's guard from the world of the distant future. His goal is to help his new homeland not only end the most terrible war in the history of mankind with the minimum possible losses, but also become a real Empire. And for this it is necessary, first of all, to create a new elite of society. Those who see serving their country and its people as the main and only goal. Elite elite.

Roman Zlotnikov

Elite of the elites. Cadres are everything

1

The cruiser's hull shook regularly from the simultaneous volleys of many guns. Somewhere, far below, now a real hell was going on, in which thousands and tens of thousands of lives were burned every second. Such a large figure was obtained because, together with the cruiser of our battalion, almost one and a half hundred cruisers of the third, fourth and our, seventh, guards corps worked on ground targets. So the landing forces of the remnants of the six expeditionary fleets of the K'Sorgs, pulled together on Tamolei Tsiruta, after they were knocked out of all other planets inhabited only or mainly by people, at the moment felt like a piece of meat in a meat grinder. For the sighting and navigation equipment of the guards cruisers, even from the heights where they were, was able not only to distinguish every single blade of grass on the planet's surface, but also to detect any source of energy the size of a battery for a finger flashlight at a depth of hundreds of meters below the surface. So the K'Sorgs were having a very difficult time right now. But they weren't going to give up. Moreover, some of their positions were very well covered from our fire. And the best of all available armor - hostages. This meant that in about fifteen minutes the shelling would stop and the monads of our battalion would rush down to the surface. As a result, K'Sorg will have a chance to arrange for us no less hell.

Tamoleia Cyruta was an independent outlying world, not so long ago being a significant member of the Commonwealth of Free Worlds - a minor misunderstanding that included four systems and five inhabited planets. However, those here, on the outskirts of the human settlement area, were the majority. Moreover, all of them, without exception, bore the same pretentious and pompous names. And so she would remain in obscurity and further, but ... it was her K'Sorgi who chose as the first object of attack, and the planet on which they decided to set up their forward base. That is why, when these Foolish (despite the fact that in the catalog-classifier they belonged to the section "sentient species"), having received in the teeth from the Empire, rolled back, the remnants of six expeditionary fleets, which were knocked out from other captured planets, but not completely destroyed, were pulled together on Tamolei Tsiruta. The invaders held this planet for the longest time and therefore managed to strengthen it better than any other.

This was my first combat landing. In general, only seven months ago I became a full-fledged Guardsman, having moved from candidates to the Guard proper, that is, to its regular composition. And, in this regard, I naturally came up with a carefully cherished plan to take two months of vacation, during which it is a pleasure to travel. The salary for the guards was not very large, but the emperor paid for all our movements from his own pocket. So traveling a lot was in the tradition of the Guard. But ... it didn’t grow together. Because on the very day when I submitted my vacation report, K'Sorgi decided again, so to speak, to touch humanity by the udder. And this time we prepared for this event much better than last. Because now eleven expeditionary fleets have invaded human space at once. Moreover, they did not attack the Empire, but the outlying formations (the language does not dare to call them states), most of which included only one planet, and the largest - the People's Democratic Republic of the World of Freedom - only eight. So, six months later, K'Sorgi captured twenty-seven worlds, inhabited mainly by people (mainly because the population of the outlying worlds is such a hodgepodge). However, this was quite understandable. According to the level of technological development, K'Sorgs belonged to the 7A generation, that is, they were ahead of the marginal worlds of the habitat of human settlement by at least one, and some even by a couple of generations, and the landing outfit of the standard expeditionary fleet of this race totaled more than twenty million individuals. At the same time, the territorial defense forces of most of the outlying planets did not exceed a million people, and they were armed according to the level of technological development of the planet they were defending. Oh, yes, there was also the so-called militia - hunters, trappers, settlers of distant cordons, and just townspeople who love to shoot, united in shooting clubs and owning various shooting complexes - from the most ancient gunpowder to quite modern pulse or gravity concentrate. In short, "free people who took up arms to defend their freedom" ...

I took another sip. "Papers" ... They have no electronic document management here ?! Or is it a tradition again? How many traditions are there then?

Yes, you eat, comrade Comintern, eat, - the senior lieutenant cordially pushed me a plate of sandwiches. - For four days, I suppose, we got very hungry.

An organism in a state of disconnected consciousness consumes approximately four to six times less resources than usual, I explained mechanically. - And without food, a person, even in an active state, can exist for two ... from two weeks to a month, depending on the characteristics of metabolism.

Damn, I almost blurted out "two years"! It's like introducing yourself directly: I'm a Guardsman. There are many legends about the peculiarities of our metabolism, but in this case, doctors say that this is true. Although I do not know of a single Guardsman who would have to verify the statement on his own skin. The monad Iga Kallepo of the Second Guards Corps fasted the longest, but they were found and removed from the emergency transport after only nine standard months. In addition, they had a standard weekly field ration with them, which is quite capable of replenishing the expendable resources of an organism in a meditative state for five months. That, taking into account the shift duty, gives a decrease in the phase of food deficiency in general to four and a half months.

The senior lieutenant shook his head respectfully.

Yeah, as you know ...

I chuckled amiably. I know a lot more, young man, but I am not going to tell you about it yet. By the way, they have interesting sandwiches here. Bread made from a mixture of rye and wheat, very similar to the one served in our restaurants on Name Day, with something salty white on top that tastes like concentrated fat. And it is clear from the reaction of the body that the thing is very high in calories. I ate only two, and my head was already noticeably heavy. The outflow of blood to the stomach is felt. It looks like I was offered products from a special ration, designed to quickly restore the resources of a weakened body?

Well, now you need to rest, comrade Comintern, - the senior lieutenant caught himself when the sandwiches and tee-seagulls ran out, - besides, - he could not restrain a yawn and covered his mouth with his palm, - we are accustomed to night work, and you, probably , already want to sleep?

I didn’t need any rest. Judging by the results of the express diagnostics, which I carried out while drinking tea, my body was in excellent condition. Not taking into account, of course, the bruise on the right cheekbone, which arose as a result of the blow, thanks to which I woke up. But damage to the peripheral tissues of the face was not a factor that should be taken into account. Moreover, the healing was already underway, and after a couple of hours the bruise should not have left the slightest trace. However, the information collected during this hour was worth considering and systematizing. So I nodded in agreement.

Thank you. It would not hurt.

I would have made your bed more comfortable, but so far there is no place to take the linen, and I can’t move you out of the cell. Here the chief will appear on Monday, then ... - The senior lieutenant smiled apologetically.

It's okay, - I reassured him, getting up, - does it matter where to sleep?

That's for sure. ”Relief was evident on his face. It seems that he was very much afraid that I would begin to psychologically press him and, as they say, pump his rights.

Panasenko, Balya! ..

A few seconds later the door opened, and these two from the casket appeared in the opening. And from the face they really were the same. Both are chubby, already slightly bald, with large, fleshy lips and potato noses. Only one, whom the senior lieutenant called Bal, was white-faced and caulked, while the other was tanned.

Balya, clean up here. Panasenko, you are escorting your Comintern comrade to his cell. And throw your overcoat there, even throw a couple! ..

I hear, comrade senior lieutenant, - Panasenko echoed. (Their voices were still different ...)

The cell turned out to be exactly the same closet as the one in which I woke up. The only difference was that there was a crumpled metal bucket right under the window, the smell coming from it did not raise doubts about its purpose, and a wooden shelf, upholstered with iron, was attached to the wall in its entire length. It was secured closed with a crude iron latch, locked with a primitive padlock.

I at once, - Panasenko responded fussy and, squeezing past me, rattled the keys, and then hastily threw back the shelf, which hung on two quite strong-looking chains. Yeah! .. The resulting bed was difficult to consider a model of comfort. Loving litigation with everyone in the Atlantis sector, if they were to invite them to rest on such a thing, they would probably immediately bill the municipality or the local government (who knows, who is in charge of the prisons here) for "the use of inhuman torture." But I didn't really have to choose. In addition, it happens that the guardsmen have a rest in much more difficult conditions. So I calmly walked inside.

I’ll bring my overcoat in this second, comrade cochminternists, ”Panasenko apologized, jumping out into the corridor. - And while you kick, kick ...

I took the advice and, squeezing along the wall, to which with the unfolded shelf there was a space barely one and a half of my fists wide, gently sank down onto this apparently unerotic bed.

The shelf creaked slightly, but it took my weight quite favorably.

The axis is so, - Panasenko nodded with satisfaction, reappearing in the cell and throwing an overcoat over me.

But I hardly heard him. It was necessary to properly analyze the information, for which the state of divided consciousness is best suited. When at the first level what is accepted as facts is analyzed, at the second level, the degree of reliability of these conditional facts by indirect signs, at the third level, the features of the structure of speech, language, non-verbal reactions, and so on. Accordingly, with such a load on the brain, the reaction to external stimuli is extremely difficult, and I can be in a similar state for about an hour and a half. And only then comes the time of nonlinear logic ... I, of course, am not a full-time sisan, but every guardsman once every three years is obligatorily assigned to the systems analytics group for a period of at least five months. Moreover, the groups change all the time. For example, I started with financial and economic. Then there was the political-socionic, military-industrial, trade-logistics, ecological-demographic and many others. So I had the skills of the entire spectrum of systems analysis. And the only thing I needed now was a couple of hours of free time. But they never gave it to me ...

Comrade commander, where to put the stew?

I took the towel away from my face and turned to Petty Officer Garbuz.

Chief, who am I to you?

Commander, - he said confidently.

And who are you?

Chief, ”said Garbuz just as confidently.

So you're bothering me with petty questions?

Garbuz scratched the back of his head, puzzled.

So ... you never know?

It won't be enough for you when I get angry, - I promised ...

... No, what kind of army? Everyone, starting with junior commanders and ending with senior bosses, about whose actions I managed to learn at least something, are completely devoid of initiative. The first thing most of the commanders did after the surprise attack of the enemy, which was here called the strange word "Germans" (they could be called by anyone, but not dumb), was ... fell into a daze. The most that the middle-level commanders were capable of was to issue an order: “Don't panic. Don't give in to provocations! " Well, with the exception of those who were directly shot. The rest, having performed the elementary actions stipulated by the regulations, seemed to have fallen into hibernation, without even trying to organize interaction with neighbors, contact the means of reinforcement and do at least something of what any commander in an army under attack should do. And those who, for one reason or another, at the time of the attack had access to primitive means of communication, here called telephones, began desperately calling the higher headquarters with the sacramental question "What to do?" Only a few responded adequately. And after all, as far as I was able to compare in a pair of fights that had already taken place with my participation, the level of individual training of both the attackers and those who were attacked was quite comparable. The injured party also had enough weapons. And the combat characteristics of the weapons were quite at the level. But no! In general, a vivid illustration of the favorite proverb of the commander of our battalion: "A herd of rams headed by a lion is a hundred times more dangerous than a herd of lions headed by a ram."

I was even a little annoyed that a blind chance had brought me to this, and not to the other side. It would be so much nicer to join the victorious side. However, in theory, the possibility of changing sides still existed. But to the list of reasons that kept me on this side, one more thing was added not so long ago - the dialect of the attackers was much further away from the general imperial. And I have somehow got used to the fact that those who speak a dialect that is too different from the general imperial, firstly, invariably lose and, secondly, most often act as an adversary. Moreover, success at the beginning of the war is far from being a victory ...

From the bombed-out building in which I was, I got out twenty minutes after the start of the raid. Judging by the sound, the enemy used bombs of caliber no more than 0.00005 - 0.0001 kilotons of standard equivalent. Moreover, the accuracy of hitting targets was extremely low. The vast majority of ammunition simply made craters in the ground, not hitting any meaningful target. And this made me jump in my stomach again. It seems that uncontrolled warheads were used here, which meant that the degree of degradation of this world reached the extreme limits. Then there was only a stone ax ... well, approximately.

I looked back at the ruins. It seems that all three of my counterparts were buried under the rubble. But the possibility of a successful evacuation from the destroyed building, according to my rough estimates, was at least eighty percent. Although fifty-five percent of them were of the type of ammunition used by the enemy. If the attackers had used volumetric blast ammunition or gravity concentrates, the evacuation capability would have dropped to a critical survival rate of twenty-five percent. However, for Senior Lieutenant Bashmet and two of his subordinates, it was already equal to zero ...

A strange, vibrating howl came from the zenith. I raised my head. A group of strange flying machines entered the group of buildings, between the ruins of which I was now, with clearly attacking intentions. I have never seen such outlines. At first impression, they used primitive aerodynamic surfaces to keep them in the air. And this was one more fact in the piggy bank of my negativity. However, there was no time especially to argue. It seems that it was these primitive aircraft that were thrown by those same unguided warheads, and now a new batch was to fall on my head.

I tracked the trajectory, estimated the possible angle of dispersion of the blocks, looked sideways at the craters, by eye determining the radius of the blast wave and shrapnel, and at a leisurely pace walked around the corner of the building. As soon as I sat down on the grass, loud explosions were heard behind my back. I listened: yes, the equivalent was calculated correctly. Extremely primitive ammunition ...

The bombing ended in about half an hour. And after a few minutes people began to appear from the ruins of houses. They looked pale, frightened and constantly staring at the sky. All are dressed in different versions of the clothes that were on Bashmet and his subordinates. It looks like it's still a form. I got up, chose the most representative from a dozen that appeared and approached a distance, when it would be too early for me to turn to him, and it would be psychologically difficult for him to ignore my appearance. Since I did not know the standard form of a military greeting in the army, the most reasonable thing was to create conditions for him to address me himself. And so it happened.

Hey, who are you, where are you from?

I silently pointed to the ruins. Apparently, I violated the accepted forms of treatment, but in this situation my inadequacy will most likely be attributed to shock or concussion.

Was he sitting on his lip?

I nodded cautiously. On the lip? Hmm ... Probably jargon.

The comrade on duty at the headquarters, - flew up to the person with whom I was talking, some extremely small guy with eyes round with fear and disheveled hair. - The secret part was bombed!

Yes, here the whole headquarters was bombed, Zhuravlev, - my interlocutor responded irritably, - and you are here with your secret part!

So there it is ... safes to smithereens! - Zhuravlev said, widening his eyes even more. - And the wind blows the secret documents.

What-oh-oh ?! - my interlocutor stared in turn. - So why are you standing? Let's run! Well, all here! Save secret documents!

And we ran after the petty Zhuravlev ...

For the next half hour, we chased together the wind-blown papers and dragged them to a secluded corner, between a heap of rubble and a piece of still standing wall. Zhuravlev was sitting there and stuffing the brought folders and piles of individual sheets under his backside, sitting down on them like a hen. From the selected papers, I managed to understand quite a lot. Although I did not have time to read them, and it was rather unreasonable to do so.

After all, they were classified documents, and a former prisoner studying them carefully should have raised well-founded suspicions. But it is enough for me to throw one glance at the selected sheet in order to fix in my memory not only the text itself, but also the texture of the paper, the type and depth of the font, the shape and content of the stamp prints and other structural elements of the document. Of course, in order to completely disassemble and decompose them into components, as well as evaluate each and analyze for compliance with the rest, as well as with information obtained from other sources, I needed time and a calmer environment. But why regret what is currently unattainable?

Now there was an opportunity to collect information, and it should have been used, and we will analyze it later. Moreover, the preliminary analysis has already revealed some new gaps that need to be filled in the near future. Orders and action plans constituted a significant part of the secret documents, but so far all these references to settlements, railway stations, local rivers and lakes have not been in my head at all. It should also be noted that the written language also turned out to be overly archaic and complicated. But quite understandable.

The commander of a military unit bearing the name of a rifle division arrived an hour later. By that time, among the ruins, in which, as I was able to find out, the headquarters of this division was previously stationed, life was already in full swing. As, however, and to the west of them. There even, perhaps, life was in full swing much more violently: the incessant cannonade and the very howls were heard, indicating that ground troops were constantly being attacked by aircraft similar to those that had destroyed the headquarters. By the time the commander arrived, we had already collected all the scattered documents of the secret unit and began to dismantle the rubble, removing the wounded and the dead from under them, as well as all kinds of utensils and objects, most likely weapons. As I understand it, the local army was equipped with weapons, the destructive effect of which was based on the kinetic principle. Moreover, the projectile was accelerated by creating pressure in the chamber by combustion of chemicals at a high combustion rate. Yeah ... Until now, I believed that the most primitive hand weapons that I had to face were chemical warfare lasers, which the rebels on Latea tried to use against the viceroy's troops (they did not dare to use them against us - they immediately surrendered). But now I realized that I was wrong ...

The commander immediately began yelling, waving his arms, in one of which was an object that looked like a weapon of senior lieutenant Bashmet. I no longer dared to call him a stun gun, for most likely it was a manual version of a standard local weapon. The commander yelled at everyone who tucked under his arm, while quite often using the words "under the tribunal" and "I will shoot." The latter was clear to me, so I decided to consider the first expression as a kind of execution in the field before clarification. The main complaint of his superiors was that he immediately, urgently, an hour ago needed communication with the headquarters of the corps. At the same time, for some reason, he became obsessed with the only way of communication, demanding to immediately restore the "line", and did not even bother to even send a messenger. And besides, for some reason he was not too concerned about communication with subordinate units, with neighbors, as well as obtaining operational data on the development of the situation on the battlefield. I simply did not understand how such an incompetent person could occupy a command position of such a high rank ...

By that time, the bodies of all three of my recent acquaintances had been recovered from the ruins of the "lip" building (as it turned out, this word did not mean part of the face, but the building in which I was interrogated). Senior Lieutenant Bashmet was still alive, but since he did not possess the abilities of at least the third level of anthroprogressiveness (and, apparently, they did not even know about the existence of field regeneration capsules here), he did not have a very long time to live. I carried it to the dilapidated wall of the building, where all the wounded were carried away, and several women in strange white robes, which did not resemble the overalls of our doctors, tight-fitting the body, like a glove, took over immediately. But the special badge here turned out to be exactly the same - a red cross. Balya and Panasenko were dead ...

The feverish activity of clearing the rubble was interrupted by another raid, which began ten minutes after the commander of the formation arrived. Looks like the enemy was using the commander's board serif stations ... or just coincidentally? As soon as the howling of engines was heard from above, everyone rushed in all directions. Who is where. What a stupid organization? I even gritted my teeth in frustration. Well, okay, shelters were not prepared in advance (although for this alone the commandant and the commander of the headquarters support group should have been removed from command), but not to put observers from among those able to estimate the trajectory of the fall of the blocks, taking into account possible dispersal, not to determine the sectors, not to form groups fire resistance ?! They're using unguided warheads! Yes, three or four trained shooters, even with this primitive weapon, are capable, if not of knocking out (I don’t presume here, who knows what level of reservation these aircraft have), then at least with massed fire on the frontal projection knock any such aircraft off the trajectory ... With the maneuverability and speed demonstrated by them, which at times does not even reach the sound speed, it is a spit task!

Roman Zlotnikov

Elite of the elites. Cadres are everything

The cruiser's hull shook regularly from the simultaneous volleys of many guns. Somewhere, far below, now a real hell was going on, in which thousands and tens of thousands of lives were burned every second. Such a large figure was obtained because, together with the cruiser of our battalion, almost one and a half hundred cruisers of the third, fourth and our, seventh, guards corps worked on ground targets. So the landing forces of the remnants of the six expeditionary fleets of the K'Sorgs, pulled together on Tamolei Tsiruta, after they were knocked out of all other planets inhabited only or mainly by people, at the moment felt like a piece of meat in a meat grinder. For the sighting and navigation equipment of the guards cruisers, even from the heights where they were, was able not only to distinguish every single blade of grass on the planet's surface, but also to detect any source of energy the size of a battery for a finger flashlight at a depth of hundreds of meters below the surface. So the K'Sorgs were having a very difficult time right now. But they weren't going to give up. Moreover, some of their positions were very well covered from our fire. And the best of all available armor - hostages. This meant that in about fifteen minutes the shelling would stop and the monads of our battalion would rush down to the surface. As a result, K'Sorg will have a chance to arrange for us no less hell.

Tamoleia Cyruta was an independent outlying world, not so long ago being a significant member of the Commonwealth of Free Worlds - a minor misunderstanding that included four systems and five inhabited planets. However, those here, on the outskirts of the human settlement area, were the majority. Moreover, all of them, without exception, bore the same pretentious and pompous names. And so she would remain in obscurity and further, but ... it was her K'Sorgi who chose as the first object of attack, and the planet on which they decided to set up their forward base. That is why, when these Foolish (despite the fact that in the catalog-classifier they belonged to the section "sentient species"), having received in the teeth from the Empire, rolled back, the remnants of six expeditionary fleets, which were knocked out from other captured planets, but not completely destroyed, were pulled together on Tamolei Tsiruta. The invaders held this planet for the longest time and therefore managed to strengthen it better than any other.

This was my first combat landing. In general, only seven months ago I became a full-fledged Guardsman, having moved from candidates to the Guard proper, that is, to its regular composition. And, in this regard, I naturally came up with a carefully cherished plan to take two months of vacation, during which it is a pleasure to travel. The salary for the guards was not very large, but the emperor paid for all our movements from his own pocket. So traveling a lot was in the tradition of the Guard. But ... it didn’t grow together. Because on the very day when I submitted my vacation report, K'Sorgi decided again, so to speak, to touch humanity by the udder. And this time we prepared for this event much better than last. Because now eleven expeditionary fleets have invaded human space at once. Moreover, they did not attack the Empire, but the outlying formations (the language does not dare to call them states), most of which included only one planet, and the largest - the People's Democratic Republic of the World of Freedom - only eight. So, six months later, K'Sorgi captured twenty-seven worlds, inhabited mainly by people (mainly because the population of the outlying worlds is such a hodgepodge). However, this was quite understandable. According to the level of technological development, K'Sorgs belonged to the 7A generation, that is, they were ahead of the marginal worlds of the habitat of human settlement by at least one, and some even by a couple of generations, and the landing outfit of the standard expeditionary fleet of this race totaled more than twenty million individuals. At the same time, the territorial defense forces of most of the outlying planets did not exceed a million people, and they were armed according to the level of technological development of the planet they were defending. Oh, yes, there was also the so-called militia - hunters, trappers, settlers of distant cordons, and just townspeople who love to shoot, united in shooting clubs and owning various shooting complexes - from the most ancient gunpowder to quite modern pulse or gravity concentrate. In short, "free people who took up arms to defend their freedom" ...

I am generally amazed at how fashionable it is to use the adjective “free” in societies that are controlled and manipulated with the help of a “democratic” pool of management technologies. No, “popular” or “democratic” is also used quite widely, but “free” is just some kind of fetish. Almost a third of the borderline limitrophes, very rigidly controlled by the oligarchy, have the word “free” in their name. The Commonwealth of Free Worlds, the People's Democratic Republic of the Worlds of Freedom, the Free Democratic Republic of Obol, the Union of Free Citizens of the planet Kwei - you will be tortured to enumerate! ..

So, there were also militias. On different planets, their number ranged from one to seven percent of the population, which for Tamolei Tsiruta was, for example, about two and a half million people. They were destroyed almost at lightning speed. Well, yes, a fully equipped combat specimen of K'Sorgs, included in a full-fledged command network, even a thousand or two similar, if I may say so, “fighters” dressed in civilian “camouflage” and equipped with primitive manual complexes, was only lubricant for the mandibles. So, at first, the invasion of the K'Sorgs looked like a parade march.

Who knows, perhaps if the K'Sorgi had stopped on the outskirts, they would have been able to dominate these planets for some time. Hardly much. Despite the principle of the Empire to protect only its own, it is quite clear that leaving under the rule of a race hostile to humanity so many planets inhabited by people, providing this race with almost unlimited opportunities to study the enemy - his physiology, socionics, type and features of thinking, and so on, is tantamount to sawing a bitch, on which you sit. So the emperor would definitely find a reason to kick the K'Sorg back out. But they would have had some time. However, after they managed so easily to capture nearly three dozen human-populated planets, the K'Sorgi felt cooler than boiled eggs. And once again they made their biggest mistake - they attacked the planets of the Empire.

"Four minutes before the ejection!" - came softly from the speakers. I glanced sideways at the neighbors. All while sitting with open visors and deactivated armor. This time, the delivery of us to the planet was to be carried out by landing shuttles, which, after dropping the fighters, took on the role of artillery support platforms, so there was no point in activating combat armor so far. There is no need to ruin the resource in vain ... Right in front of me, dozing, leaned against the board of Kra Emerly, the great actor, comedian, according to rumors, received about eighty million for the last role. Beside him, Senor Eklahuilio Velasquez, the chairman of the Board of Directors and the main owner of Velasquez Systems Industriales, one of the top twenty largest corporations of the Empire, was busy rummaging in the GI network. He stuck online every free minute, claiming that his time was too expensive to waste on trifles. When I first found out who he was, I was impressed for a couple of days. No, everyone knows that the guards are the elite of the empire, but why the hell go to rank-and-file guards to a man worth more than five hundred billion ?! However, when I gathered my courage and asked him about it, Velazquez emerged from the net for five minutes and grinned:

- You do not understand?

- No, - I shook my head completely sincerely.

- It's very simple, - calmly explained one of the richest people in mankind. - In order to become a guard commander, you have to devote your life to it. And I love the business I do too much to devote most of my time to something else. Therefore, I was and will be an ordinary guard.

He paused and looked at my even more puzzled face with a mocking glance. Puzzled, because after his words it became even more incomprehensible to me what he was doing in the guard. If he likes doing business so much, he would do it. Well, I will never believe that a person with such a level of income and connections also needed the official status of a guard. He already has fucking influence. Or is there something I don’t understand? .. As it turned out - yes, I don’t understand.

- And in the guard I am because I believe: I deserve to be the elite of the elite. But it’s impossible if you don’t serve. And the point here is not only that it is so arranged in the Empire, where exactly the guardsmen are not only considered, but are truly the elite of the elites. This is just a statement of reality. The reality is that any other elite - great artists, brilliant engineers, unique programmers, talented financiers, athletes, industrialists and so on, can be hired... And from anywhere - from another people, from a neighboring planet, from a foreign country. But the elite of the highest category, that is, the elite of the elite or the nobility, can only be created, educated, and nurtured within the state itself. And it can only be created through service. That is why I am here.

- And ... if you are killed?

“You, candidate,” Eclahuilio chuckled again. - You. You have already trumpeted more than a year in our monad (this conversation took place almost a year and a half ago). And, as it seems to me, you have every chance of becoming a full-fledged guard. So it's time to switch to "you". As for your question ... - he thought about it. - Well, first of all, it is very, very difficult to kill a guard. And, secondly, you have to pay for everything. Including for belonging to the elite of the elite. What is given for free is illusory, and you will not even notice how it will slip through your fingers. For example, you were interested in how many people who became millionaires as a result of winning the lottery, remained as such after at least five years after winning?

“No,” I shook my head.

“Zero,” replied Señor Velasquez with a stern smile. And then he continued: “Besides, the danger of dying is also a filter. And this danger will scare away from the guard the selfish, cynical, greedy and cowardly. The empire needs a healthy elite. And the fact that some part of the persistent, honest and talented will die in this case is a much lesser evil for the Empire than the elite of the elite, consisting of these very selfish, cynical, greedy and cowardly. As for me specifically ... - he paused for a moment, shook his head, and finished, as he typed: - I am an imperial. And if my death will help the Empire to prolong its existence for at least a year - so be it. Empire is the main legacy that I can and must pass on to my children. And Velasquez Systemas Industriales is like this ... a family hardware store.

He died there, on Tamole Tsirut. Like Kra Emerly, and Jardine Semerkin, a talented biologist who discovered a whole subclass of lung-breathing plants, and Mikola Zhovtny, an extremely gifted couturier, who only four months before landing on Tamolei headed the Plessy fashion house, one of the three largest fashion houses in the Empire, and the candidate for the Guard Gerhard Zimmermann, at that time just a very gifted engineer, who graduated with honors from the Zurich Higher Technical School only six months ago. What could he become? Who knows ... But certainly not a dull gray mediocrity. But he also paid with his life to ensure that the Empire still had a healthy elite ... And in general, the 7th Guards Corps suffered the greatest losses on Tamaley Tsiruta in its entire history. But it was on this planet that the remnants of the K'Sorg invasion forces were ground. So over the next eleven months, the combined armed forces of the Empire were able to advance to their capital planet ...

* * *

I opened my eyes and listened for a few moments. There was complete silence in the dugout, broken only by the slight puffing of Nechiporenko, nestling in the corner next to the telephone set. He quietly slept, not fearing to accidentally miss the call, because the cunning Little Russian managed to tie the telephone receiver to his head with a medical bandage. I lay for a few moments, trying to figure out what had awakened me. And thoroughly, the dream disappeared like a hand. But I didn't get it. Therefore, I threw back my greatcoat, which I was hiding with, sat down, put my hand under the bunk, fumbled there boots with footcloths wound around the bootlegs and began to quietly put on my shoes. Since you still can't sleep, it's worth going out into the air, breathing, listening ...

Having got out of the dugout, I stood for some time, listening and looking around, and then sighed and, closing my eyes, tried to strain all my senses and ... well ... not quite organs. For a couple of moments nothing happened, and then ... I opened my eyes wide, grinned and, turning around, dived into the dugout again.

- Nechiporenko!

- Hey! - the private shuddered in fright and blinked his sleepy eyes. - Comrade captain, I’m here ...

I cut off his frightened muttering with a short gesture.

- That's what - come on, wake up all the commanders. Let them raise the personnel and arrange breakfast. And themselves, as they eat, - to me. In about forty or fifty minutes. In the meantime, I run to the headquarters of the corps.

- That's right, Comrade Captain, - delighted that he did not receive a well-deserved scolding (and what did you think - for sleeping on duty ... well, on duty, in wartime you can go under a tribunal), Nechiporenko began to quickly unwind with one hand bandage, and the second grabbed the handle of the inductor. I turned around and left the dugout.

I reached the corps headquarters in twelve minutes. My battalion was stationed at the edge of the forest, which surrounded the village of Masenevo on all sides, in which the entire corps administration was located - that is, the headquarters, rear, political administration, special department and other services. In addition, on the opposite side of the village there was a corps field hospital, where my subordinates, after the redeployment of the battalion here, in Masenevo, closer to the corps headquarters (that is, for the whole last week), regularly ran to "get married." Although everyone was surprised how they still have strength after the loads that I provided them.

The sentry was at the headquarters. Relatively. That is, he did not sleep, and did not even almost doze, and also leaned very lightly on the wall. But, of course, he could not fully fulfill the duties of a sentry in this state. Although even if he performed them completely according to the charter, it would not change anything for me. For any guardsman, it is absolutely the same whether a single person is sleeping or not, who has not even mastered the first degree of anthroprogressions. You can do whatever you want with him - you can kill, you can capture, you can simply ignore. But it was not the enemy, so I limited myself to minimal impact - I jerked closer to the sentry and, before he could realize that someone had suddenly appeared right next to him, lightly tapped my finger at a point under the base of the skull. Then he calmly ran up the steps to the wide porch of the village school, which housed the corps headquarters ...

No, it was possible to penetrate into the headquarters in the usual way, so to speak, according to the regulations, but that would mean summoning the nachkar, explaining to him why I needed to disturb the general at night time, then explain all the same to the headquarters duty officer, then, perhaps , to the chief of staff, and only after that I will most likely be allowed before the bright eyes of the corps commander. And there was no time from the word "absolutely". Judging by what I could sense, the Germans will start at dawn. And it would be good for us not only to wake up by that time, but also to somehow prepare ourselves. At least somehow, because we simply could not prepare well. During the time that the lull lasted, the corps was a little replenished with people and weapons, as a result of which it, of course, restored its combat effectiveness, but - very relatively. All the same, in the divisions of the personnel, God forbid, two-thirds of the state, with weapons, everything was far from rosy, especially with heavy ones, and there was no need to talk about military coordination at all. Well, what can you do in a week and a half? Gather a squad, platoon, company? Even about the separation - I'm not sure. Moreover, with the help of the methods used here and taking into account the level of training of the commanders themselves.

However, in my battalion I still managed to do something. Although, on the other hand, I had a replenishment, God forbid, twenty percent, and immediately fell into the hard hands of my veterans ... But what? This is the only way to call them. Against the general background, my guys look oh, how menacing. And not in vain: after all, we are the only division of the Red Army to which the Germans surrendered en masse in this war. I have not yet read or heard about the others. But about our battalion not only wrote in the army newspaper, but the report was on the radio. The reportage itself is so-so, something like: “The soldiers of the N-separate battalion under the command of Captain Kunitsyn are skillfully beating the enemy. During the hostilities behind enemy lines, the battalion destroyed how many tanks and self-propelled guns were stunned, how many enemy soldiers did not die, and how many cannons were just fucking awesome. In addition, how many bridges have been blown up and how many warehouses with weapons, ammunition and military equipment are killed… ”. But these warehouses are almost all as one - our former. And the rest of the successes, in my opinion, look as such only against the background of the failures of all the others ...

The corps commander was asleep. The orderly did too, but I lifted him from the couch with an unwavering hand. The muzzy junior sergeant threw himself up awake, but, seeing who had pulled him out of bed, immediately fell silent and muttered apologetically:

- So it is, he is sleeping, Comrade Captain ... Comrade General is asleep ... After midnight went to bed.

- Raise, it's time, - I cut off his confused speech and went out into the street. I was not afraid that this sergeant would not react to the order of some left-wing battalion commander. I have developed a certain reputation here, which allows me at any time of the day or night and on any issue to go directly to the corps commander and to all subordinate chiefs, from the chief of staff of the corps to the last chief of the corps department. This did not mean that all my requests and demands were accepted for immediate execution, by no means. But no one tried to ignore me after a couple of cases.

The sentry, already recovered from my light blow, stared at me in surprise, not understanding how I could appear from inside the headquarters. However, the bewilderment quickly disappeared. Who knows me - maybe I arrived at the headquarters on the previous shift, or even spent the night here in the evening ... A blow to that point does not directly do any particular harm, but if this blow is delivered correctly and accurately, the person simply falls out of reality for a couple of moments. I don’t know exactly what it seems to someone - someone may just stir up, someone may feel dizzy for a few moments, and someone may stifle their breath and stars will appear in their eyes. But after a couple of moments everything goes away. But what is happening next to him in these few moments - the person does not perceive, because at this moment he is completely focused on his sensations. And what happened to him a couple of moments before this, as he believes, an attack, is also remembered as in a fog. That is - either it was, or it's just a glitch. So even if an hour before I poked my finger under the base of the skull, and managed to identify me, now he probably did not remember about it. Or he thought he was just imagining it. For if I were somehow involved in the fact that he became ill, would I have stood so calmly on the porch, looking at the stars?

I, while there was still some time, decided to revise what I had achieved in the time that had passed since the moment my battalion broke through the front line. Basically, I spent this time quite productively. First, I ... studied. The secret part of the corps headquarters turned out to be a real "cave of treasures" for me. Orders, manuals, manuals, combat manuals, directives and orders, technical guides and reviews, secret and unclassified military journals, which I got the opportunity to familiarize myself with, gave me such a volume of information that I still have a month to master, analyze and build logical chains one and a half. And even more. It all depends on how much time I can set aside for immersion in a state of divided consciousness. However, judging by what woke me up today, in the coming days this time I will have very little ... But I did not stop at purely military information - I also thoroughly searched the school library: textbooks, filings of newspapers and magazines, reference books, tables, training manuals and the like ... So I read everything that I could reach - both open sources, and particle boards, and secret. Well, the ones to which I was admitted. Moreover, the secret part was located exactly in the building of the school library. And besides, the people themselves were the most important source of information. Various - from officers of the corps management to the second category of sleds, from hospital nurses to local collective farmers. I was no longer afraid to enter into long conversations with people, because the information I had learned was quite enough to breathe where it was necessary, to assent where it was necessary, and where it was necessary to say something like: "As I understand you ..." ... And this, in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, is quite enough for people to tell you everything that you want to know ... So all this time and every free minute I was eagerly absorbing information.

Secondly, I taught. He taught his fighters, taught replenishment, taught unit commanders and ... commanders from the corps headquarters. True, the latter are gradually: I’ll drop a phrase, then “go to the toilet,” I leave a map on the table, “raised” according to the standards of the tactical tablets of the Guard, and then I explain for a couple of hours what these or those icons and pictograms mean and why I have them inflicted. Or I’ll spend half an hour at the blackboard (and they’re here, read, in every office - school), writing out completely school formulas for themselves, only with completely non-school variables: the rate of fire of the weapon and the density of fire at different distances, the diameters of the scattering ovals and their displacement in the process of warming up the barrels due to intense shooting, the angles of the gun guidance sectors and the like, after which I explain again. In general, it was a shock to me how few local commanders think... And how widely monotonous tactical templates are used here. And the fact that here they generally do not use such basic concepts for me as the efficiency factor, or there, the availability multiplier. Moreover, the majority had to explain even these concepts themselves more than once or twice. And some people still do not understand ... But the corps commander and most of the staff officers, in the end, were able to figure it out. And they even forced me to conduct classes on what they called "combat tactical calculations" not only for the commanders of the headquarters, but also for the commanders of formations and corps units, who were herded into one-day training camps. I will not say that solely for the sake of my occupation: the political department, for example, managed to hold a corps party conference, and the corps commander also had a two-hour meeting on combat planning. But judging by how puzzled the commanders left my class (and how pleased the corps commander looked at the same time, quietly sitting on the back desk) - it was definitely one of, so to speak, the "nails" of the event ...

And, thirdly, I was systematically preparing my way to a higher level. Not now, no. A little later. Well, when all my proposals - from non-standard methods of training privates and command personnel to the same "combat tactical calculations" - will be weighed, evaluated and reported to the "top". Where, in turn, they will also be weighed and evaluated, and then the combat effectiveness of my unit will be scrupulously compared, and even if not similar (there are none here and so far they definitely have nowhere to appear), but at least more or less successful locals. And they will draw the appropriate conclusions. That's when ...

“Why don’t you sleep and don’t give people?” The general asked me hoarsely, appearing on the porch. I was ready for his appearance, because I heard the floorboards creak and the washstand rattled in the entryway, so I just turned around, saluted and held out my hand with the already prepared lighter. The corps commander froze in bewilderment, staring at the light that suddenly appeared in front of his nose, then grunted and reached for him with a cigarette already prepared in his hand. Dragged on. And put his lighter in his pocket.

“You’re all tricking, Kunitsyn,” he grunted, dragging on, and, already, consider it, traditionally, continued: “And where did you come from?

“From afar, comrade general,” I answered in the same traditional way. “I can't see it from here.

The general inhaled, puffed on smoke and asked again:

- So why did you wake up?

I continued to stand in front of him in silence. The corps commander glanced sideways at the sentry, grimaced slightly, inhaled quickly a couple more times and threw away the cigarette.

- Okay, let's go inside.

At the headquarters, everyone has long been accustomed to the fact that I myself strictly observe the "Requirements for observing secrecy in official and private communication" and achieve the same from all my interlocutors, regardless of their positions and titles. However, the "Requirements ..." themselves, none of the locals, naturally, did not see it in the eye, and everything that they knew from them heard from me. But it was impossible to disagree with the fact that they are quite reasonable and relevant. Moreover, this army also had some similar documents and instructions.

“The Germans are preparing to attack,” I said calmly.

- Where? - the general leaned forward. - We have? When? Who reported?

- What you?

- I - reported. To you. Just.

The corps commander stuck a strained gaze at me.

“You… did you send intelligence? Why i do not know?

I shook my head.

- Not. I have not sent any intelligence. It's just ... when a very large number of people for some reason wake up in the middle of the night and start to move - it's strange. And in war it is also dangerous. Especially if this movement is on the side of the enemy, - I made a short pause, and leaned forward a little, focusing the general's attention on my next words, and then spoke a little louder than before: - I woke up from what I felt like a few kilometers from we suddenly woke up and several tens of thousands of people began to move. I can feel it. Not always. More often at night, when everyone around me is asleep, and on the other side, a lot woke up like that at once. And not very far. But it depends on how many there suddenly woke up. I can feel a dozen in a couple of hundred meters, a thousand - already in a kilometer. But only, again, if there are no awake people around me. Moreover, it is desirable not only people, but also living beings in general - animals, birds ...

The general glared at me for a few moments, and then quietly asked:

I shrugged.

- I don’t feel that way. Although ... the largest concentration is somewhere in the strip of one hundred and thirty-seventh division. But I will not undertake to say for sure that the blow is being delivered there. Perhaps the rear services of the advancing group are simply concentrated there. However, in the Grishin strip there are the best roads ...

I fell silent. The corps commander silently took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, fished out one, then looked sideways at me and simply twirled the cigarette in his fingers. Then he gritted his teeth and asked dully:

- Who are you, captain?

I looked at him in silence. I will answer this question much later. And not to him. Although the general desperately wanted an answer to this question. And he was afraid. After that story with the captain of the NKVD Bushmanov, he was afraid for some time to communicate with me. As, however, and everyone else who was aware of this story. But then, after watching the training of my guys, he changed, so to speak, anger at mercy and began asking cautious questions: why? what for? How is it? and where is this taught?

However, these questions worried not only the corps commander, but also most of the other commanders (and not only them, but in general all - from the rear services to the field hospital nurses), among whom was Major Bubbikov, who left the corps for "reinforcement" Senior Lieutenant Kolomiets. But he especially did not climb up to me, preferring to loom at a distance and not ask special questions - either he turned out to be smarter than Bushmanov, or he simply received such instructions. However, I had no doubt that he had already collected a lot of material for me. But that was in my best interest. If I was going to help the state, on whose side I found myself so unexpectedly, to win this war with minimal, based on the situation in which it found itself, losses and with maximum gains, and thereby get more opportunities to fulfill my Duty and the Will of the Emperor - I shouldn't have been a battalion commander for a particularly long time. I had to move higher. But not immediately, but a little later. Or, more precisely, after another military operation. It is necessary, as I have already mentioned, to give the locals a little more time to evaluate everything that I have already "progressed" here in the most important thing for winning the war (and not only in the war, but in any area of ​​human activity) - the methods of personnel training (in this case, combat training), as well as techniques and methods of current and situational control. Judging by the fact that the local leader in one of his speeches said: “Cadres decide everything,” what I have already shown must be appreciated. So let's give them a little more time for this. Well, at the same time we will also demonstrate the results of applying everything shown. And I had no doubts that the results would be very ... um ... visual. Despite the fact that my battalion seemed to be considered a corps reserve, I was going to act in my own way. And apart from everyone else ...

Well, the fact that this time my operation will be monitored much more carefully was in my favor. More eyes means less opportunity to challenge these results.

“So you think they’ll start at dawn?” - Without waiting for an answer, the corps commander asked again. I nodded and got up from my chair.

- In forty minutes I am taking the battalion to Nyushino swamp.

- What?! - The corps commander looked at me in amazement. - But how?! Who? - he turned purple. - I forbid! Your battalion is the only reserve in the corps, and I demand ...

I threw up my hand. The general stopped short.

- Calm down, Stepan Illarionovich, I am using this reserve in the best possible way.

- But ... how ... the front ...

“You can't hold the front anyway,” I said calmly. - Rather, if you and I stop carrying on empty conversations and begin to act, you will just be able to keep him a little longer than your neighbors. Which, if I understand correctly, should clear any charges against you. And this is good. And the bad thing is that in this case you will have to try very hard when retreating so as not to fall into the cauldron. And it is precisely this, that is, the organization of the correct retreat, that I would advise you to do first. All the more so ... - here I made a short pause, casting a calm glance at the general, turning purple with rage and about to burst into an angry tirade, - you will have a chance for that. Exactly. And I will provide you with it.

All the same, I admit, I was unfair to the corps commander. It's just that I'm used to much higher training standards and I measure everything by them. And if you focus on local standards, he is a good commander. And now he did not (although it was obvious that he wanted to) yell at me, punch on the table and perform any other so popular with the local leadership (yes, he had the honor to observe), but completely unconstructive movements, and , almost with a creak overcame his emotional impulse, briefly asked:

“It’s a long story,” I cut off the further discussion. - And there is no time. Just know that if you manage not to bring down the front for at least a couple of days, I repeat - not hold back the front, namely, not to bring down, albeit slowly retreating - after these two or three days the pressure on you will drop sharply. For a short time - also for two or three days. A maximum of four. And at this moment you can either break away and retreat without loss, or ... - I chuckled, - hit somewhere to the side, to the rear of those who put pressure on your neighbors. And the best thing is to combine both of these approaches and retreat along the rear of those who are crushing your neighbors, after which he nodded briefly and left the headquarters.

Senior Sergeant Golovatyuk carefully raised himself and, slightly screwing up his eyes, peered into the predawn gloom. The village was asleep. The entire population - both local and alien. Although no, one of the newcomers still did not sleep and loomed in the nearest outskirts. For some time Golovatyuk peered warily at the sentry sticking out at the car parked at the extreme hut. From the fully enclosed body, it was a body shop. Well, the unit that occupied this village was also a repair company ...

From the Nyushin swamp, as the locals called it, the battalion got out at about noon. The front line was overcome in three hours, of which the first two hours fell on night and pre-dawn twilight, and the last hour - on artillery barrage and the beginning of the German attack. But after that the battalion walked (or rather, crawled) through the swamp for another five hours.

The Germans attacked our troops to the west. The artillery preparation was not too long - about twenty minutes, and then, judging by the crackle of small arms barely discernible at such a distance, the Germans went on the attack. But, apparently, not very successful. Because ten minutes later, long queues of "Maximov" were intertwined into the score of the battle, until the water boiled in their shrouds, and then in the sky from the other side the hum of SB motors and outdated Polikarpov biplanes were heard, which, as fighters, were already, counting, no matter what not suitable, but as stormtroopers - the sweetest thing. Not too high speed and high maneuverability made it possible to literally shave the grass over the battlefield, and the rifle caliber of machine guns, against modern German bombers and fighters, was already rather weak, against the infantry was what was needed. Especially considering their crazy rate of fire. Well, bombs or rockets under the wing are also quite appropriate for an attack.

Golovatyuk at that moment, barely hearing the already familiar sounds of aircraft engines, smiled contentedly. Because with my own ears I heard how, just before the start of the march, when the battalion had already stretched out into a marching column, the corps commander drove up to their location in his "emka" and, recalling their commander, spoke in an undertone about something to him. Golovatyuk did not hear the whole conversation, but he could hear the battalion commander's answer.

“I don’t know, Comrade Major General…” the captain replied thoughtfully. - If you dare to jump over the head of the higher authorities, try to contact the aviation in advance and directly. A bomb strike or ground attack at the moment when the Germans attack, will very well thin out the first echelon. It will take several hours for the Germans to regroup. So, you look, and it will be possible to hold out until the evening. And where it is one day, there, maybe, a couple will be able to hold out ...

The senior sergeant was even proud then. Avon, what a commander they have - he gives advice to generals! And it’s not that expensive that it gives - Golovatyuk would have said something clever himself, if he had asked his opinion about which general. So nobody asks. But their commander is asked. Well, yes, to the point and honor. To be honest, Golovatyuk has never met such people until now. Captain Kunitsyn knew so much and was able to do so much that he seemed like some kind of ... well, I don't know ... an alien, or something. From Mars, as in the novel by Comrade Tolstoy. Golovatyuk read it in the regimental library and was very impressed. And on the other hand - those on Mars, perhaps, where they will be as thin as possible. So, as if not from the Sun itself ... Take at least reading. No, the senior sergeant graduated from the seven-year school, and knew how to read quite well. Even in the Komsomol organization of the company, well, the old one, he took on the social responsibility of teaching illiterate fighters to read. And such, read, more than half a company was. But Captain Kunitsyn, he ... he didn't read. That is, I read, but not like ordinary people. He would simply open the book, glance over the spread and immediately turn the page. And so he read everything - regulations, manuals on weapons, manuals, handbooks on the armament of foreign armies, magazines, art books, newspapers, collections of articles, even "A short course in the history of the CPSU (b)." At first, the senior sergeant thought that the captain was simply leafing through the books, say, refreshing the memory of what he had already read, or, there, looking for something that was once remembered. But no, as one case showed, the captain read. And at the same time he managed to completely memorize everything he wrote. Exactly completely and that's it.

It happened in the evening at eight o'clock. Until six o'clock, the battalion commander and the other commanders were with the personnel, organizing the combat training of soldiers and sergeants, but after six, Captain Kunitsyn gathered the entire command staff in the school library, which housed the secret part of the corps headquarters. And, having received service literature, charters and instructions, as well as maps under signature, he worked with the command staff of the battalion. But at the same time, he also managed to read in parallel. Everything that was in the library. He will give an assignment to work with a map or to study an article of the charter or instructions, and while they are doing it, he will pull up a book or a magazine, or even just a newspaper - and, well, leaf through ... that is, read. It was to one of these classes that the head of the political department of the corps was brought in. He entered, waved his hand, allowing him to continue his studies, and sat down on the sidelines. And the battalion commander just gave them another task and, while they pored over it, began to "leaf through" "A short course in the history of the CPSU (b)". Nachpo looked and looked, and then got up and burst into a long speech about the fact that this book should be read thoughtfully and carefully. Study. Write out. Captain Kunitsyn for some time silently listened to the instructions of the head of the political department of the corps, but then, it seems, he was tired of the unproductive loss of time (for all those present, instead of doing the assigned task, had to raise their eyes to napcho and listen carefully to his speech). The battalion commander got up in silence and handed the head of the political department a volume of the "Short Course".

- Check it out.

“From any chapter, from any line,” the battalion commander explained. The head of the political department gave the captain an incredulous look.

- So you want to say ...

“Check it out,” the captain repeated urgently.

Nacpo frowned and, with a determined gesture, opened the volume somewhere in the middle.

- Well, for example, chapter seven, part two ...

- Part two. The beginning of the crisis of the Provisional Government. The April conference of the Bolshevik Party, - Captain Kunitsyn began in a low, measured voice. - While the Bolsheviks were preparing for the further development of the revolution, the Provisional Government continued to create its anti-people cause. On April 18, the Minister of Foreign Affairs of the Provisional Government, Miliukov, announced to the allies "the nationwide desire to bring the world war to a decisive victory and the intention of the Provisional Government to fully comply with the obligations assumed in relation to our allies."

Thus, the Provisional Government swore allegiance to the tsarist treaties and promised to shed as much of the people's blood as the imperialists would need to achieve a "victorious end."

On April 19 this statement ("Milyukov's note") became known to the workers and soldiers. On April 20, the Central Committee of the Bolshevik Party called on the masses to protest against the imperialist policy of the Provisional Government. On April 20-21 (May 3-4), one thousand nine hundred and seventeen, the masses of workers and soldiers, in the number of no less than one hundred thousand people, seized with a feeling of indignation against the "Milyukov note", went to the demonstration ... Is it enough or to continue? The battalion commander asked, noting that the nacpo simply fell into a trance.

- And-and-and ... you, um ... can you quote this whole book like that, captain? - Swallowing, the head of the political department of the corps specified.

- Yes. And even any of these, - and the battalion commander made a sweeping gesture around the school library, which was lined with both shelves with books and canvas bags with documents from the secret part of the building. - That is, of course, from those that I have already read. But these are the majority here.

- N-yes-ah, - drawled the head of the political department and, shaking his head, left the library. The battalion commander followed him with his gaze, and then turned to them, his commanders, who stared dumbfounded at their battalion commander, and, grinning, said:

- Well, why are you hanging? To work, to work, we have a lot of time, but we have to study a lot. And which of you will be the commanders? ..

Or, for example, the fact that their combined battalion was not only not disbanded, but even approved all the appointments that Captain Kunitsyn made back there, behind the front line. He, the sergeant, was left in the position of company commander. Only raised in rank one step. Well, where have you seen this? And all because Captain Kunitsyn snapped: "This man is prepared by me and it is for this position."

And after all, no one said a word against. And with that NKVD, how did it work out? After all, Golovatyuk himself was already convinced that everything was ahead of the tribunal and the penal company. If not shooting. Look how it turned. The tribunal is a tribunal - but not for them, but for the captain of state security Bushmanov. And senior lieutenant Kolomiets did not particularly interfere with the battalion's affairs. No, Golovatyuk still had to talk to him. Like everyone else. But unlike the conversation with Bushmanov, during which the captain of state security all the time demanded from Golovatyuk information about the "treacherous activities of captain Kunitsyn" and not only threatened with all kinds of punishment, but also went to face a couple of times, the senior lieutenant was completely correct during the conversation and not particularly corrosive. And the conversation itself did not drag on ...

Golovatyuk squinted his eyes and glanced at the still dark edge. Senior Lieutenant Kolomiets, whom he had just recalled, was currently somewhere there. Already when the battalion moved out of Masenevo towards the swamp, the senior lieutenant overtook the battalion in a truck. And not just one. Together with him, four fighters deftly jumped out of the truck, dressed in the object of burning envy of the entire battalion - green camouflage coats. So far, these have been only and exclusively among the soldiers assigned to the senior lieutenant of state security at the time of his assignment to the corps administration. Even the corps reconnaissance sported in ordinary breeches and tunics. Golovatyuk tensed slightly at that moment. Well, how exactly now will this senior lieutenant decide to impute something to the battalion commander? And he will try to arrest him. And then what - to shoot ?! Well ... for himself, Golovatyuk decided that he would shoot himself. If need be. The commander did not surrender any of them, even opposed, consider, the all-powerful captain of state security. So this will only be the return of debts. And to lose such a commander just before the raid ... you go and look for someone better. Others put a cloud of people differently - but little sense. And the ratio of losses is not in their favor, and they did not hold their positions. But their battalion commander ... But nothing happened. Kolomiets quite politely asked permission to join the battalion. And to the battalion commander's question: "And why do I need you so beautiful there, behind the front line?" - just as politely explained that among his subordinates there is a radio operator equipped with an experimental short-wave radio station, capable of maintaining communication with our headquarters at a distance of up to four hundred kilometers. And the rest have quite suitable specialties of sappers-demolitions and snipers-scouts, so they will definitely not be a burden in the raid. And what is interesting, Golovatyuk immediately realized that these five had joined up with their battalion not at all in order to crush the Germans there or even how to help the battalion. No, they were interested in only one person in the whole battalion - Captain Kunitsyn. And the senior sergeant was quite sure that he was not the only one who understood this. But the battalion commander himself did not even take an ear. He just barely perceptibly smiled and nodded, shortly saying: "Good."

No, their commander is like an alien from the Sun ...

However, we were not allowed to calmly storm the Germans and bomb us. Already ten minutes after the start of the raid, an air battle broke out over the front edge, which, in contrast to the ground battle, was perfectly visible from the swamp. But it was not possible to observe the whirlwind in the sky for a long time, because it was necessary to overcome the open section of the swamp as quickly as possible, to which they had just reached at that moment.

The swamp itself was marked as impassable on all maps, both Soviet and German, so they did not find any secrets or patrols here. However, local guides said that usually the swamp is really impassable, it's just that the summer is now so dry and hot. That is why the crazy idea of ​​their commander got a chance to be implemented. And in the usual summer ... And therefore the thin column of the battalion carefully squelched through the swamp knee-deep (and sometimes waist-deep) in the swampy mud. Carefully, but rather quickly, because although there was enough dirt, but still most of the time the guides led them through not too swampy places at the present time. True, several times I had to fall into the mud, hiding from flying planes. However, it seems that not a single scout was among them. Most likely, these were the "wounded" who fell out of the whirlwind of air combat over the front edge and crawling to their airfields. Because of this, the pilots were more preoccupied with "fighting" their crash-prone machines than looking at the surrounding area. As a result, the battalion managed to get to the opposite edge of the swamp without incident. Although when they got out on solid ground, everyone had a vid ...

However, there was no time to pickle. The battalion commander immediately dispatched three reconnaissance groups, which, having hastily rinsed in the stagnant swamp water, changed into dry uniforms prepared in advance, changed their boots and quickly galloped forward along predetermined routes, even on the other side. The rest, who did not have a second set of uniforms (because most of the available kilograms of that same "full load" was occupied by ammunition and food), were given an hour and a half to put themselves in order and clean their weapons, which were also soiled during the journey through the swamp in the mud utterly. After rinsing and wringing out the washed uniform, the soldiers pulled it over themselves in order to quickly dry it with the heat of their bodies, and began to put their weapons in order. And the battalion commander gathered the commanders.

- So, so. The first stage of the raid went well. We passed through the front line and went to the rear of the Germans in the area of ​​the supposed lowest density of their deployment. Here they should have nothing but scattered rear units. Now we need intelligence. I sent reconnaissance groups to Nyushino, Podgati and Zalesya. I think that at least one of these remote villages will be quartered with some kind of rear division. Maybe all three. If so, choose the smallest. We don't touch the rest yet. ”The captain paused and glanced around at the commanders sitting in front of him. All were silent. Even Senior Lieutenant Kolomiets. And the battalion commander calmly finished: - The reconnaissance groups will return in four hours. At this point, all units should be fully prepared for deployment. Questions?..

The Germans ended up in Podgati and Zalesye. In the first - motorcyclists, as you can see, waiting for the first echelon of the advancing troops to break through the defenses of these Slavic subhumans, stupidly opposing the inevitable - the inevitable and imminent victory of German weapons and the triumph of a true superman of the highest, German-Aryan race. After that, their hour will come - to jerk ahead of tanks and motorized infantry along these terrible, but, thanks to the dry summer, completely passable roads, knocking down weak barriers and bypassing strong ones, capturing bridges prepared or still being prepared for an explosion and withdrawing columns of tanks that are quickly following them and motorized infantry along rockadny roads to the flank and rear of the defending Russians. But in Zalesye, repairmen got a job. And the commander decided to take them. But not immediately, but at night, before dawn.

“We, comrade commanders, need a day to plan and organize,” he explained his decision. - We need to understand where we can replenish food, where and how to strike. We need to prepare, prepare a couple of surprises for the Germans, such as the same Molotov cocktails, calculate which side to raid, where to go and how to get away from the Germans.

- Day? Ivanyushin shook his head in surprise. - Who will give them to us?

“Let's take it ourselves,” the commander chuckled. - Do not worry, political instructor - we will have a day. If we can take the German quietly. Into the knives.

And now they were going to take the German. Quiet. Into the knives ...

The sentry shivered, straightened his carbine on his shoulder, and, hunched over the village street somehow sadly, sadly. Golovatyuk followed him with a wary gaze and stared into the darkness. The scouts, who were supposed to deal with the sentry, most likely have already advanced to the extreme huts of the village. Thank God, the Germans seem to have shot all the local dogs so that they would not spin under their feet when the soldiers took their lawful "milk, bacon, eggs." So there was practically no one to raise the alarm now. As a result, only a few minutes were left for this sentry to live ... After which the battle groups of Golovatyuk's company were to scatter throughout the village and take most of the Germans, who are currently sound asleep after shock labor for the benefit of the Third Reich, into knives. The Ivanyushin company, in case of reinforcements approaching the enemy, blocked the only road. However, with such a balance of forces, the Ivanyushinskys would only get in the way - his company would be more than enough. Moreover, one hut, which was determined as the location of the command of the repair unit, was taken over by the scouts whom the battalion commander trained personally. The company commander and, possibly, a couple of non-commissioned officers or sergeant-major, were planned to be taken alive. During the reconnaissance, the scouts found a field telephone cable, as a result of which the battalion commander decided that, in addition to the language, they also needed people who would answer the phone. So the number of objects of attack for the company decreased by one more ... And, by the way, the sentry is no longer visible. But they should have already returned back to the auto repair shop. Have they taken it off already, or what?

Golovatyuk stretched out his neck, peering into the twilight that began to dawn. Yes, they took it off ... There are legs sticking out from behind the wheel. And after another ten seconds, gray shadows darted along the street ...

Golovatyuk ran to the extreme hut to the moment when everything was over there. In the hallway he was met by Junior Sergeant Tanechkin, the commander of the first squad of the second platoon.

- How are you?

“We've done everything, comrade company commander,” the junior sergeant reported quietly. Golovatyuk listened.

- And who is there?

- Duc is new. Replenishment, - said the detached, and explained: - Vomits.

The senior sergeant grimaced slightly.

- Why is there in the hut?

- Well ... - Tanechkin was slightly embarrassed, - so as not to make noise on the street. You never know ...

This had its own truth, so the company commander silently nodded and ran out into the street.

It was quiet outside. This meant that they still managed to take the nemchuru without a fuss, which, despite all their training and combat experience in such operations, was by no means guaranteed. There is always a chance at the most inopportune moment to run into someone who has risen in need or to sip some water there, or simply suffer from insomnia. But it looks like nothing happened. Golovatyuk listened cautiously for another five seconds, but no extraneous sounds were heard - so, a light stomp, muffled swearing, the knock of a gate ... And the senior sergeant exhaled with relief.

The only surviving German showed up in the house that the scouts were supposed to take. He was sitting at the table, sparkling with a huge, half-face, black eye, and, frightenedly staring at the battalion commander, was hastily bleating in German. Golovatyuk looked around the room with a tenacious gaze, noticing a dark puddle under the windowsill, on which was a German field telephone, chipped joints, fragments of earthenware on the floor, seemingly hastily pushed aside by his foot, and grimaced barely noticeably. Yes, it looks like the scouts, despite all their training, nevertheless screwed up a little. Otherwise, why is there only one prisoner?

Directly opposite the constantly muttering German over the table, on which the gluing card was laid out, the battalion commander leaned, from time to time occasionally throwing not even a talkative sergeant major, but as if into space, rare clarifying questions and, along the way, marking something on the map. And at the far end of the table, in the corner, almost hidden by shadows, sat Senior Lieutenant Kolomiets in silence.

Golovatyuk did not know what interesting things the German was saying, because he did not speak German. Till. But he had already begun to study it, since the battalion commander not so long ago said that knowing the language of his enemy gives him more opportunities to oppose him. After that, Golovatyuk found a Russian-German dictionary in the school library and began to learn words from it. Slowly. Ten words a day. First, in alphabetical order, and then, when the captain found him doing this and advised him something, in a different way - as the battalion commander advised him. That is, having written out the five hundred Russian words most necessary for him to communicate with the captured Germans (and what else will he have to talk to?), And now memorizing their translation into German. So far, I haven't been able to memorize very much, but the senior sergeant did his best.

Kolomiets quickly reported the results of the battle for his company and left the hut. The battalion commander was clearly not up to him, and all the orders about what and how to do now had already been given. And, since the operation was carried out as planned - quietly and without alarming the Germans - they did not require any adjustment.

The next two hours were filled with hustle and bustle. First, they collected all glass bottles that were found not only from the Germans, but also from the village in general, and began to fill them with gasoline drained from German trucks. The battalion commander attached great importance to incendiary shells in the upcoming operation, therefore, in the first place, they were concerned about this. At the same time, they began to engage in trophies. All available weapons and ammunition (which turned out to be not that much - all the same, repairmen, not a combat unit) were collected and tied into packs. Then it was planned to carry them away into the forest and arrange a cache. Who knows how it will turn next. Well, how useful ... to themselves, if they suddenly return through this area (although this, it seems, was not planned), or there locals. A partisan detachment, for example, to organize ... The shantsev instrument was handed out to the local with advice to hide it away for now. Belts, boots, clean underwear stored in one of the trucks, flasks, knives and bayonet knives, watches, binoculars and all similar equipment were collected, counted and distributed among the personnel. The trucks and the rest of the property of the German repair company, which could not be capitalized, began to be prepared for destruction. Like all the equipment and tools found in them, with the exception of manual tools, which were also handed over to the locals with the same advice ... For this, two platoons were sent to the forest, with the task of preparing the required amount of firewood, which then had to be laid on the trucks and set on fire. In addition, an audit was carried out of all the stocks of food available to the Germans. German dry rations were immediately scattered over the "cidors", and all perishable foodstuffs were put into a common pot.

Two hours later, having gutted the sergeant-major and having decided on the goals, the battalion commander called the company commanders and set the task for the next night. In each company, it was ordered to form eight sabotage groups, which were to work on the rear objects of the advancing German group revealed during the interrogation of the prisoner. The battalion commander considered the most important of them the railway station, on which a whole echelon with ammunition for small arms, tank guns and artillery stuck out, as well as a field fuel depot, which the Germans placed on the territory of the former regional MTS.

“If we can destroy even these two objects, we will slow down the Germans very much,” said the battalion commander. - And even if most of the rest ...

And Golovatyuk completely agreed with him. Leave the troops on the offensive without fuel and ammunition ... um, tasty prey. However, not a single company sabotage group was assigned to these objects. Mortar men were supposed to work at the station, cover for which was carried out by half of the reconnaissance platoon, and the commander aimed at the fuel depot himself, with the other half of the scouts. Well, and the security at these two facilities, judging by what the sergeant-major said, should have been quite serious - no less than a company on each, and at the station there was also a battery of anti-aircraft guns. The rest of the objects of attack were much less protected targets - mainly rear and transport units, field depots and the same repairmen. So sabotage groups, armed only with small arms, grenades and dozens of Molotov cocktails being prepared now, had to deal with them without much loss, even without the support of such powerful weapons as mortars ... or Captain Kunitsyn personally.

To some disappointment of Golovatyuk, not a single headquarters or combat unit was included in this list. But what caused this injustice, he did not become interested. The commander knows better.

At about ten o'clock in the morning, the field telephone rang, installed in the hut in which the German repairmen's bosses were quartered. Golovatyuk had just arrived for a report on the formed sabotage groups. The sergeant-major who was sitting next to the telephone shuddered and stared in dismay at Captain Kunitsyn, who was sitting at the same table at the corner of which the field telephone had been removed from the windowsill. He nodded at the machine:

The Feldwebel swallowed and carefully picked up the receiver.

From a short conversation, it turned out that the management had given the order to prepare a repair and evacuation team. In the units of the first echelon, there are serious losses of military equipment, so as soon as it is possible to push back the defenders of the Untermenshes, it is necessary to urgently proceed with the evacuation and the fastest restoration of the damaged equipment. The sergeant major replied that the order was accepted for execution.

- Well, - the battalion commander said thoughtfully. - We have at least an hour or two. And if ours hold out longer, then more. How is lunch there?

- The foreman says he will be ready in twenty minutes.

- Fine. Then tell Ivanyushin - feed people and put them to bed. Everyone who is not involved in the preparation. And involved too - as soon as they are released. Evenings and nights are planned to be very intense ... and not only them. It is quite possible that in the next couple of days we will all have to run well and hardly sleep.

The next call with valuable instructions from the German command rang out at about two o'clock in the afternoon. The commander just had time to talk with the locals, whom the Germans had evicted from their huts to barns and sheds during their stay in the village, and to clarify both the information received by interrogating the captured sergeant-major and what he could not know - that is, the condition of the roads, the passability forests in areas where attacked objects are located, approach routes, and so on. Then he gathered the commanders to set the task, so that all the commanders were witnesses of this conversation.

The sergeant-major, somewhat reassured by the fact that he was also fed (well, they will not waste food on whoever they are going to kill?), Rushed to the pipe with such zeal that he even dropped it on the floor. Then he stared at the battalion commander in dismay like a rabbit at a boa constrictor. But the captain just waved his hand, they say, do not be nervous, do the job entrusted to you well - and everything will be fine. The German exhaled with relief and raised the receiver to his ear, after which he listened for about a minute to what he was told. The speaker of the German telephone was excellent, much better than the Soviet UNA-F-31, so that the speech of the German authorities could be heard.

When the superiors' monologue was finally over, the sergeant-major barked briefly into the receiver:

Then he carefully put it on the apparatus and stared at the captain with a frightened look. The battalion commander thought for a moment, and then stretched out his hand and ... with a sharp movement tore the wires from the phone. Then he again focused his gaze on the unit commanders sitting around the table and explained:

- The leadership of our sergeant-major demands to send a repair and evacuation group with two tractors. It seems that our nemchuru thinned well, but still they managed to push us out of their positions, - the captain thought for a couple of moments, and then slammed his palm on the table. - Well, we will consider the first stage completed. Now we have to wait for the signalmen and ... the angry chief, who arrived to find out why the evacuation team he had requested did not move. But I think we have two hours. And if we can accurately intercept the signalmen and the chief who has arrived to understand - then all four, - Captain Kunitsyn paused, and then smiled. - Well, we don't need any more. So, Golovatyuk!

- I AM! - the senior sergeant almost jumped up, stretching himself to the string, but managed to resist and react as a company commander should. That is solid.

- Are your people on patrol now?

- Yes sir! The first company was changed two hours ago.

- Instruct them to look both ways, but the authorities who arrived were not touched. We will prepare a meeting for him here in the village. Kanarev!

- I AM! - the commander of the reconnaissance platoon immediately responded.

- And you went out to meet the German signalmen. Let them walk along the telephone cable. But not far. As soon as they look after the place for the ambush - let them disguise themselves and wait there. If possible, grab someone for interrogation. But don't risk it. If you have any doubts that you can make the capture quietly - just bring everyone down. Now it is much more important that everything remains calm for as long as possible than just another language. Understood?

- Yes sir!

- And do not forget to send a couple of soldiers - to block the direction of withdrawal for the Germans. And then one of the signalmen will leave a couple of minutes before the fight to the side, and you will miss him.

- You offend, Comrade Captain ... - drawled Kanareev.

- Well, look at me ... - the captain thought for a moment, and then turned back to the company commander-two. - Who is the commander of the first group? Potapov?

- Yes sir!

The battalion commander nodded thoughtfully, apparently not so much to the senior sergeant as to his own thoughts.

- Do you have one group in reserve?

- Yes sir! - Company-two repeated again.

- Give her Potapov's object. And we'll leave his group here. In ambush. If the bosses are late and do not show up before we leave, they will have to accept him quietly and provide us with some more time. The later the Germans learn that we have appeared in their rear, the easier it will be for us tonight. So let's get ready. Potapov - to me, I will give instructions personally. The rest - the beginning of the advance in three hours. Ascent - in two. Before the nomination there will be one more meal, and then when the next time it will be possible to feed people hot - only God knows. Do you have any questions about the tasks?

In response, everyone grumbled negatively.

- Well, good. Deliver the order for the operation to your subordinates. And I will emphasize once again - let the group commanders plan the withdrawal very carefully. Destroying an object is only half the battle. Even moving away from him without loss is only three quarters. After that, we need the Germans to look for us where we really won't be. Then we can assume that we have fulfilled all our tasks one hundred percent. Moreover, we have a chance for this. And big. I do not think that the Germans today have here, in the front line, specially trained units designed to search for and detain saboteurs. But in a couple of days I won't be sure of that anymore. So we need to squeeze the maximum possible out of the temporary advantage we have at the moment ... Okay, free.

The scouts quietly received the group of three people, put forward to restore communications. As a result, two and a half hours after the last telephone session that took place on a bench in the headquarters hut, along with the sergeant major-repairman, a non-communications operator was also seated. The rest of the scouts were not taken prisoner. The signalman practically did not report any new data, he only clarified the latest information on the deployment of the units already marked on the map following the interrogation of the sergeant major. There have been no major changes yet. This was understandable: according to the story of the non-commissioned officer, it turned out that the Germans had succeeded in pushing back the units of the one hundred and fifty-first divisions from their positions, but the front had not yet been broken through. Therefore, none of the rear units, on which the raids were planned, have not budged yet ... But the losses at this stage of the offensive have already turned out to be much greater than expected. The higher German command was terribly irritated by this fact and intensely transmitted this irritation through all available communication channels, which is why the non-commissioned officer's awareness turned out to be so wide ...

The bosses of the repairmen, in the person of the rear-service officer-Hauptmann, appeared an hour and a half after the signalmen. As you can see, without waiting for either the repair and evacuation group or the restoration of communication, he decided to personally go to rush his subordinates.

By that time, the battalion had already begun to move out of the village. The signal from the secret on the road came exactly at a time when most of the battalion had already disappeared into the forest, and a tail of five dozen fighters, mainly from the mortar battery and the commandant's platoon, was still overcoming the pasture, located between the backyards and the edge of the forest. Golovatyuk, who decided to stay with Potapov's group in order to control the ambush and subsequent withdrawal, jumped out of the hut and, slipping through the gardens, with a loud whistle attracted the attention of the battalion commander who was moving in the battalion column along with the commandant's platoon. He turned sharply and, correctly interpreting the gesture of the company commander, gave the signal to "lie down" with a movement of his hand. What happened next filled the senior sergeant's heart with pride in his unit. Several dozen fighters instantly fell into the grass where they stood. Only three or four of the new replenishment lingered. No, they all also knew combat sign language - the test for it was one of the first among those that they passed. But it is one thing to report knowledge of the signal during the test, and another to be able to instantly react to it in a combat situation. So the guys hesitated ... Well, never mind, experience is a real deal. We have learned - and these will learn.

So by the time the Kübelwagen with the Hauptmann, accompanied by two motorcycles with a sidecar, apparently given to the Hauptmann in case of some unforeseen circumstances, entered the village, nothing showed the presence of Russian soldiers in it. But there were more than enough signs of the presence of the Germans. Moreover, all of them were quite serene to themselves - a dozen undershirts and four uniforms were hung on a stretched rope to dry, on the far outskirts there were two people, naked to the waist, but in German riding breeches and boots, chopping wood and stacking a woodpile, and in the open gates In one of the courtyards, the Bussing-NAG stood facing the street, occupying the entire opening of the gate. There was no driver in the cab of the truck, but from the courtyard one could hear some kind of ringing of iron on iron and the roar of a sergeant major, on which the light was on fire some "armless idiots."

Hauptmann, who got out of the cab of the stopped "Kuebelwagen", having heard these pearls, spat angrily and with a decisive step moved to the half-open gate. And the Germans on motorcycles, who had glanced around cautiously, relaxed with relief and exchanged knowing smiles. It seems that nothing serious, which the authorities assumed, because of which their crews were torn from preparation for the advancement and sent to escort this captain, did not happen here. But these fat-ass repairmen obviously ran into a sickly disassembly. One of the machine gunners leaned back, fished a pack of cigarettes out of his trousers pocket and shouted something to two "lumberjacks" ... And the next instant, from the side of the half-open shutters of the very hut near which they stopped, a muffled sound was heard: "Sz-tyns ..." - and almost immediately a few more: "Sz-tyns, sz-tyns, sz-tyns-s-s ..."

When Golovatyuk, throwing a crossbow with a lowered bowstring, jumped out into the street, everything was already over. All four motorcyclists, having received a bolt made from a sharpened ramrod of a three-line even at the time of their first attack on the concentration camp (oh, how long ago it was), were quickly finished off with knives by the soldiers of the Potapov group. Hauptmann was received even earlier, immediately after he entered the gate. The senior sergeant let out a sigh of relief and wiped off the sweat.

“Well, Golovatyuk,” said the battalion commander with satisfaction, who for some reason found himself behind the gate into which the Hauptmann entered, and not on the pasture, where the company commander had last seen him. - Looks like you gave yourself and us at least a couple of hours. But then - wait for the guests. I don’t think that they will once again climb such insignificant forces into the “black hole”, where their signalmen, repairmen, officers disappear quietly and without a trace, and - he glanced at a couple of motorcycles left without riders - motorcyclists. So you will have plenty of targets for shooting. But don't get carried away, shoot - and go. We still have a lot of things to do, - he looked sideways at the Hauptmann and finished: - However, I'll stay a little longer with you, I'll talk to Mr. Gaputmann. Maybe something interesting will tell. And you ... you know what - drive the Bussing and the Kübelwagen with motorcycles to the rest of the cars and light them. And who knows, maybe the Germans will appear faster. And our fire takes time to flare up properly. So that, for sure, everything that was collected could not be reanimated by any repairs - only to be melted ...

The field fuel depot was guarded very badly, and not only by the guards, but also by local German standards. However, there was some explanation for this. Firstly, even now, at three o'clock in the morning, the warehouse was working. At the far end of the pile of drums, four trucks were currently loading. The loading area was illuminated by two car headlights, powered by a pair of batteries mounted on wooden blocks under a light canvas canopy. But even this did not provide relative silence, because the headlights were still not enough, and loaded cars also illuminated the work area with their headlights. And in order not to plant already pretty worn-out batteries (and what they could have been in the fighting army for almost two years), the drivers did not turn off the engines. In short, a complete violation of safety regulations, so to speak ... The scolding of the movers, rolling the barrels into the truck bodies, the creak of the boards and the dull thump of the barrels themselves also contributed to the sound masking of our covert movement. As a result, two sentries and a pair of patrols, walking around a light fence made of stakes and a barbed wire stretched over them, which is the only fence of this warehouse, turned out to be practically deaf and blind. Anyway, against my fighters ... Well, I wanted to think so. And how it really is - just now we will check.

Secondly, the security company, as it turned out from the interrogation of the Hauptmann, also turned out to be not at all a regular security unit with appropriately trained personnel, but simply a marching company, held here for a while until all the fuel in this field warehouse was given out. into the advancing units and units. That, according to estimates of higher headquarters, should have happened somewhere on the seventh or ninth day of the offensive. After that, this warehouse, according to plans, was to be used as a prisoner of war transit camp. And what - the place will be free, the thorn is already stretched, and the security is in place. No, companies for this, of course, will already be a bit too much, but the company is a marching company. So most of the personnel will be sent to replenish the lost combat units, and the remainder will be delayed in a couple of squads until the security unit, hiwi, is transferred here, or the guards are simply taken away from the variable contingent sent here - that is, prisoners of war.

I removed the binoculars and carefully slid off the branch and down the trunk. So what do we have? On the side of the Germans there are more than a hundred personnel armed with small arms and, possibly, grenades. Why is it possible? So these are marsheviks, they are unlikely to have already been given grenades. Anyway, using grenades near such a warehouse is ... well, at least it is unreasonable. So they most likely do not have grenades, but they will have to proceed from the fact that they can still be. Of this hundred, a maximum of ten are now awake - two sentries, a pair of patrols and six people in the vigilant changing of the guard. If it is, of course ... Plus another eight or twelve people are swarming at the trucks while loading. These are unforeseen, but not too dangerous as a fighting force. But how extra eyes, capable, even by accident, to notice something unusual and raise the alarm, can interfere. So the plan will have to be slightly adjusted, because there is no time to waste. If the guys at the station (which is not too far here) rustle first, the sleeping hundred barrels will obviously go into a state of sleepiness, which can put an end to all our plans - we obviously don't have enough strength to butt openly with so many barrels. Sixteen personnel (including me and Kaban), four machine guns (one of which is mine), seven PPD, five SVT, twenty-five grenades, forty bottles of gasoline. Everything? No. Also - brains. And this is our most important weapon.

- So, so, - I began, crawling into the bushes to the others, to formulate a combat mission. - Me and privates Shabarin, Logvinov and Oyunsky quietly penetrate into the territory of the warehouse and begin to perforate the barrels. You need to spoil at least a dozen in each stack. The sentries in this din and contrasting lighting should not see anything, but I order everyone to be as careful as possible. The others quietly surround the guards' location and wait. After we finish with the barrels, Shabarin and I take the patrol into the knives and move to the sentries, while Logvinov and Oyunsky take positions near the cars and wait for the start of a mess. If Shabarin and I manage to deal with the sentries just as quietly, we will catch up to you, but not - immediately after the alarm is raised, start working on the loaders and drivers. In which case, use grenades, but do not get carried away especially: here it can blaze so much that we will not have time to escape. And we still need grenades. All clear? - and I looked around the fourteen people sitting in front of me. The fifteenth was now in secret and guarded the place of our temporary deployment. They all nodded silently. I chuckled inwardly. Yes, from the moment the operation began in the battalion again and, which is very pleasing, by itself, that is, without any additional commands, the "silence mode" began.

- Then ... you three, take apart the rotifers that we took in the village - and go ahead, follow me.

The idea of ​​rotifers was suggested to me by Garbuz. Back in the village where we got the repair company. So he brought it in handfuls and put it under his nose:

- Axis, comrade captain, the shop is on the right.

- What is it?

- Yes, the same rotifer. Do you need to make holes in the barrels? Axis stink and come up.

Perplexedly, I took a somewhat strange construction in my hand.

- Is it for metal?

- That neither, for the tree. But for barrels - it will be garneau. There, the iron is hefty soft. They will be easy to take, and you will not have to make noise.

Basically, I could punch through the thick metal of the barrel with a knife or a nail there. But that's me. In addition, this action will definitely be heard at a fairly large distance. And to make holes in the barrels with shots ... the pistol may not be taken, but for a long time to shoot at the barrels from rifles - there may be no time. And so - to quietly drill through fifty barrels in advance, in order to enable a fair amount of gasoline, and then add from rifles and machine guns, and throw at the end the resulting ... not even a puddle, but a whole pond or lake of fuel with Molotov cocktails - no firemen will not extinguish. So this idea of ​​the foreman fell very well into the topic. I smiled:

- Thank you, Chief. For the right and, even more, for the initiative. Well done!

- That I sho, I am a nicho, - Garbuz was embarrassed. - May I go?

I finished with the barrels twenty minutes later, head over heels in the flowing gasoline and all the while expecting that the next second a sharp shout would be heard: "Halt!" or just a shot. No, I myself was in complete control of the situation, but to what extent did the others cope with it? Basically, when I saw the trucks under loading, I was going to hang up and deal with the barrels alone - there are too many directions from which detection can occur, I have to control. I can do it for sure, but the rest ...

But one of my main tasks - and not only of this operation, but of my entire activity in general - was the training of personnel. And how to cook them, not letting them acquire their own experience, with their own skin and gut? It's the same as with a child. Until a certain moment, you do a lot for him: you dress, feed, wash your crumpled ass, but the more he develops, the more independence he needs to be given. Otherwise, the child will get used to the fact that someone else is doing everything for him - mom, dad, grandmother, nanny, dad's driver or an attached security guard. Well, in this case, how can he himself become a father, a mother, and even just a professional in demand in his field? Whatever money you invest in it, and whatever opportunities you give it. Therefore, I decided to pull my nerves and give the opportunity to several more fighters of my team most suitable for the planned actions to prove themselves and gain valuable combat experience. Moreover, the continuing loading at the warehouse created difficulties not only for us, but also for the Germans themselves ...

But on the whole, everything went well, although I would attribute most of this success to the completely disorderly guard duty, and not to the impeccable actions of my guys. They should have been detected at least three times. But - nothing happened. However, I decided to take one patrol. Well, to hell with him - and so already for tonight we have chosen the limit of luck with a margin. So when Boar got to me and found that everything was already finished and there was no work left for him, he grimaced in resentment. I hissed in response with an angry snake:

“I’ll put you on my“ lip ”, Shabarin, when I return. How many barrels were you told to make holes? How much did you do? Decided to show his daring, stupid ?! Why did you climb into the extreme row? You should have been noticed at least twice.

“Well, they didn't notice,” the Boar snapped in a whisper.

- Yes, but your merit in this is not. But mine is. If I hadn’t thrown a stone near the patrol, you would have gotten yourself into it and ruined our mass. That's it, my patience has run out. I am removing you from the fighting for three operations.

- Comrade Captain! - The Boar almost cried out in a voice, but he immediately slapped himself on the lips and continued again in a whisper: - Well, here's the true cross - it won't happen again. By golly! Just don't suspend. On vacation - I agree to everything. And on the "lip", and outfits as you want. Just let me press this little girl to my nail.

I grimaced and hissed just as softly:

- OK let's see. If you manage to press that sentry over there quietly and imperceptibly, as you say, to the nail, I'll think, maybe, and somehow change the punishment. But look, you screw up - don't even come near. Got it?

- That's right, - the Boar nodded and slid into the grass with a dexterous snake. I went to the second sentry.

But Kaban did not succeed in rehabilitating himself, at least partially, although not through his own fault. I had just pulled out a knife and, intercepting it for a throw, was trying on the sentry, who was sadly sticking out at the far stack, when from the side where the trucks were loaded, a long line of PPD was heard. My sentry jerked and pulled the carabiner strap from his shoulder.

"Shvis, sir!" - a new fashionable decoration in the form of a knife handle appeared in the sentry's right eye socket, after which he fell over on his back like a sack. But I already turned my back on him and threw up my loyal DP.

"Dah!" A single shot - and taking up a position behind the wheel of the truck, a German driver, diligently aiming one of my guys, slowly slides down the wheel, dropping his Mauser carbine from suddenly weak hands. I took a quick glance at the disposition in the loading area. Looks like no more of my help was needed. Oyunsky and Logvinov finished off the Germans who had almost no resistance in short bursts. I turned towards the second sentry. It was no longer observed, and the Boar, with a wolf-like creeping step, rushed towards the guard tents. Here is a rogue - he also saw that the guys at the trucks did not need help, and immediately rushed to where there was still an opportunity to get a little adrenaline. Well, I won't go there. I can see everything well from here ...

"Yes-dah!" - a short burst overturns a couple of Germans who jumped out of the tent. Although there are enough trunks around, these got out of the outer tent and immediately rushed to the ravine. Bending down. So who knows, if my soldiers would have noticed and removed them, or the Germans would have managed to leave. The guys see in the dark much worse than me.

“Yes, dah! Yes, yes, yes! Yes-dah! Yes-yes-dah! " - with short, economical bursts, I suppressed the slightest organized centers of resistance of the awakened guards. Despite the suddenness of the attack, the small number of the attackers played a negative role. If my guys were operating here on their own, it is likely that they would be overwhelmed. But in my presence the Germans had no chance. So within ten minutes, not only organized, but in general any resistance was completely over. Although I strongly doubted that we destroyed everyone. Most likely, most were not killed, but wounded and simply calmed down. But this was quite in line with my plans.

No, if there were seasoned veterans here, I would take the time to finish off everyone - don't give a damn to the enemy a chance to heal and put trained and experienced fighters in line. But these ... Marching replenishment are not fighters yet, but preparations for them, while they will be courted in the same way as full-fledged soldiers. That is, the medical support facilities at the disposal of the enemy will be loaded with assistance to these warriors. As a result, it is possible that the wounded soldiers of the first line units, who are much more experienced, trained and dangerous, will receive less quality and timely service. Which should lead to noticeably large sanitary losses in their ranks. So, per circle, a larger number of wounded, rather than killed, in the current situation will be generally more beneficial to us than complete destruction. And time is also starting to run out. At night, sounds are carried far away, so that our firefight clearly someone heard. It is very likely that this "someone" is now heading here to provide assistance to friendly units that have undergone a sudden night attack. And we cannot be distracted by them, we have completely different tasks, which the guard company, which has disappeared as an organized unit, is not able to prevent us. And she could not somehow threaten us during the withdrawal, and even more so - to organize the pursuit. Which is quite enough for us.

So I turned to the warehouse and gave several long bursts of barrels through the piles of barrels, finishing off the store and further punching the barrels. Then he turned to the out of breath Boar who ran up to me, who had dragged me my good old "sidor". In my battalion, everyone, from an ordinary soldier to a battalion commander, carried their share of the cargo, which, in addition to personal belongings, food, personal wearable ammunition, a spare underwear and a pair of spare footcloths, also included either zinc cartridges for SVT and machine guns or for pistols and PPD , or a tray with three mines for eighty-two mm mortars. And after today’s day in the village, there were also four Molotov cocktails. However, after today's operation, the additional cargo should be considerably lighter - the consumption of ammunition will be noticeable, and there is nothing to say about the mines: about a third of the trays with them were dragged away by the group that was supposed to work at the station. As a result, she was loaded so that she went on a mission with a minimum of other ammunition and practically did not take food with her. Well, okay, from the fact that for a day or two until the moment they reach the rendezvous point, the guys go hungry, nothing bad will happen. But all four barrels of our mortar platoon, as a result, were provided with quite decent ammunition in today's operation. And the chances that at least one of the one and a half hundred that our mortars were supposed to spew out of themselves would be able to start the detonation process of the ammunition accumulated there at the station, were very high. But the station was not relevant for me at the moment. Unlike a warehouse.

- Have you prepared the bottles?

- That's right, Comrade Captain. Four pieces.

“Well, I think that's enough,” I chuckled, catching myself thinking that just here the bottles with their contents were especially not needed - there is more than enough flammable liquid. But their wicks, albeit primitive, made of rags soaked in gasoline, will just be in the subject ... Here's another stereotype of my thinking got out. I myself got used to something like a universal fuse, which I did not understand in any way, but was simply set to the required temperature or duration of ignition, which were inversely related to each other. That is, the fuse could provide a combustion temperature of five hundred degrees for six minutes, but three and a half thousand - only twenty seconds ... But it was too late to replay.

- Give it here.

- Yes, I myself, Comrade Captain, - excitedly shining his eyes, replied the Pig.

- Come on, I said. You are punished. Moreover, all the gasoline, you immediately flare up.

- What about you, no, or what? - the Boar stretched out resentfully. - Also, the evon carries like gasoline, so it's just as easy to blaze mo ...

“I’m not going to flare up,” I cut him off, beginning his moralizing. - I, unlike some, know how to act clearly and accurately ... - but here from the opposite side of the warehouse several lights flashed, which almost immediately flew towards the stacks of barrels. And I immediately shut up and got down to business.

It blazed up noticeably. In just a couple of seconds, the fire had already spread throughout almost the entire space of the warehouse. It seems that gasoline from the drums we perforated leaked quite enough for the individual puddles to merge, immediately transferring the fire from the status of flaring up to the status of hot burning. So the idea of ​​pre-perforated barrels has brilliantly confirmed its feasibility. This meant that the remaining bottles could be saved. Throwing just a couple, I shoved the rest of the Kaban and began hastily tying my "sidor". It was necessary to quickly shed from the vicinity of the warehouse. In uniforms so heavily soaked in gasoline, being near a burning warehouse was becoming dangerous even for me. In such a sea of ​​fire, whole barrels will soon begin to explode, and there will be a very real danger of catching the burning spray. But besides me, there are three more “clean” ones here.

After waiting for the Boar to shove the unused bottles back into his duffel bag, I whistled to leave, and then shook his head to my partner, inviting, so to speak, to join the wake. Well, we completed our task perfectly. I wonder how the others are doing?

I received the first answer to this question without even leaving the warehouse for a more or less decent distance. And he was quite positive. Explosions were heard in the southwest, behind the forest, on the side where the railway station was located. Almost immediately, they became frequent, began to merge, and after a few minutes the sky was generally torn apart by a bright flash, against the background of which the tops of the trees appeared for a moment. “Not less than two tenths of a kiloton,” I figured as I walked and smiled contentedly. It was for something like this that it was decided to use mortars as the main weapon for attacking the station.

After that, something seriously changed in the attitude of the authorities to the father. However, perhaps the matter was that most of those who, together with their father, were in power before, before this steam roller, which rolled through the village in connection with the announcement of a course for complete collectivization, were no longer power. Who was evicted as a fist or an accomplice, who left himself, fearing for themselves and their children, and who simply abandoned everything and left their homes, not wanting not only to participate, but even to see how the new government, for which they fought in the Civil War, for which they died and killed, she showed them, the peasants, Kuzka's mother, despicably deceived them, rejecting, as uncle Mikola clearly formulated, her own Decree on Land, and again using force - a rifle and a revolver - to drive the peasants into new latifundia.

Is this really any kind of power? And in less than ten years, they overthrew the past, lying and spitting on their people, the power of the Provisional Government, which replaced the even more backward and dense tsarism, and now a new, seemingly completely people's power is going along the same crooked path. After all, it is clear that all this talk about the fact that only complete collectivization will allow the use of tractors and other equipment in the countryside is complete stupidity. The same "Fordson-Putilovets", produced in the former capital, now renamed in honor of Lenin in Leningrad, even since 1923, would have been quite appropriate for the peasant farm of Mikola's father. My father even went to this very Leningrad, to his colleagues, to ask the price and look for how such a useful car could be purchased. But - it's useless. They did not sell it to private traders ... Whatever it was, the father did not find a common language with the new leaders. Although I tried. But his father simply could not see how the former Kharkiv metalworker Gnatyuk, who was appointed as chairman, from twenty-five thousand people, destroys everything created by his own hands ... Even if all this was already, as it were, not his, but a collective farm. But it was also impossible to do anything. In response to all the advice and suggestions of his father, Gnatyuk only turned purple and growled: “Shut up, contra! As I said - so it will be! ". His main benefactor, Grigory Ivanovich Kotovsky, was already dead by that time.

That is why my father decided to leave the village. Thank God his fellow soldiers were still holding on tightly to each other. This was shown by the fate of the murderer of their brigade commander. So my father first went to Leningrad himself, to his colleagues, through whom he had previously tried to acquire a tractor, and now he hoped to find a job, but a little later they all went after him ...

- Stop! Halt, twenty minutes, - the commander of the second company Ivanyushin briefly commanded, with whose group Senior Lieutenant Kolomiets was moving at the moment. No, at first he tried to ask for a group with which the battalion commander himself was moving, which interested both Major Bubbikov and the most senior lieutenant Kolomiets, and, apparently, there are a lot of people there, "above", but he answered shortly:

- No, - and then he explained: - You, Kolomiets, just can't stand my pace. He and my guys do not stand up to everything. And you ...

Nikolay was slightly offended then. Rather, not so, he was very offended, because he was absolutely sure that in something, and in physical training he could give any captain a hundred points ahead. But somehow he didn’t show his resentment or argue. And not for any special or operational reasons, but because it so happened that everyone who communicated with Captain Kunitsyn, after some time, completely disaccustomed to argue with him. And there is no need, and useless. Even if you insist on your own (and this happened, a couple of times, no more - but it did happen), then you will only make yourself a big fool. Therefore, the senior lieutenant decided to be patient a little and by deed to prove to the battalion commander that he was just mistaken in this matter. Well, there, in the evening, after the march, when his entire battalion with him at the head will fall off its feet, approach the battalion commander with a careless approach and lazily propose:

- Come on, Comrade Captain, while your people come to their senses, I will run around the area with my eagles, reconnoiter the situation - well, or something like that ...

But now, after a night raid on a supply convoy and the subsequent almost six-hour exhausting march, Senior Lieutenant Kolomiets clearly realized that all these beautiful visions were just visions that had nothing to do with reality. Yes, he could barely reach this halt on his own feet! But this is not the end of the march. Although, probably, its end is near. It was dawn two hours ago, so they’ll hardly be able to move as freely as under cover of night - no one canceled the aerial reconnaissance. And the people are clearly very tired. Although, for the most part, he holds up not much better than the senior lieutenant. But no one makes a face at him and does not look down on him. And not because they are afraid. If they were afraid, they would look differently, with fear or, there, with ostentatious indifference, and not as now - with sympathy. But because, it seems, they themselves have gone through something similar. And, most likely, not so long ago.

However, it was hard for more than one Kolomiets. Judging by the steamy look, the mordovorots of Sergeant Major Nikolaev also had difficulty keeping the pace set by Ivanyushin. And several of Ivanyushin's fighters barely moved their legs at all. It seemed that they were about to fall and then would never get up. But there were only three such people, while the rest for some reason looked tired, but still quite capable. And the company commander-two, despite all his outward slenderness, kept the wild pace set by him quite calmly. Managing not only to just run smoothly, so to speak, by running, but also from time to time to move along their stretched chain, then lagging behind in order to catch up with the rear patrol, then, adding speed, catch up and cheer up three absolutely exhausted fighters who were pulled on themselves the rest, replacing each other, or return to their place in the head of their scanty columns, right behind the head patrol ...

In Leningrad, which everyone around for some reason continued to call in the old regime - Peter, Mikola settled down pretty quickly. His father put him in a factory school at the Karl Marx plant, which is also called New Lessner in the old-fashioned way, where he himself worked. In general, Mikola, whom everyone now calls Nikolai or Kolya, was more likely to be delighted than vice versa.

Yes, they have become much poorer and poorer than before. If earlier, in Adamovka, he was dressed a new shirt every year, now he had to wear the same shirt for several years. The mother only put on the sleeves and sewed wedges into the sides, reshaping the shirt to fit the body that was gaining strength and become the son's body. Boots, which used to be the object of pride and envy of all the neighboring boys, most of whom at their age could not have such shoes and could not dream of, quickly became small and were inherited by the younger ones. And to carve out money for new boots from the meager wages of a worker - there was nothing to think about. I would have had enough for food ... So I had to switch to worn-out shoes, bought for a pittance at a flea market.

However, the father, who previously also regularly updated his barnyard boots (shoes in the countryside are quite expensive and prestigious) and quite freely allowed themselves to wear them even in the summer and in the field (where everyone - both children and adults, as usual worked barefoot ), had to get by for a long time with those boots in which he arrived in St. Petersburg. In the end, they were so worn out that not a single shoemaker even undertook to repair them. And my father got out of the situation by pulling on his boots, bought in the same place, at a flea market, old galoshes. Those, too, were all cracked, with half-torn soles and did not hold water at all, but they coped with the task of pressing the almost fallen off sole of the boots to the cracked headband. Moreover, my father tied galoshes to his boots with a string. However, the galoshes did not last long, and my father had to go to the flea market again every couple of months for more ...

And the feeding became much more scarce. Lard was bought only on major holidays, they ate gray bread with bran, and their family, who previously kept five dozen of their own chickens, now saw eggs only on Sundays.

But all this poverty faded before the secrets and adventures of the big city that had opened before him, Mikola. For the factory, he, unexpectedly for himself, quickly became his own. However, perhaps the matter was that there were quite a lot of such "former village" among the "fabzai".

A country that at first went through three years of difficult, bloody, but, nevertheless, as by the end of the third year it became clear, it was quite a victorious war, and then, without a break, unexpectedly for itself plunged into the abyss of revolution and a much more cruel war, Civil , finally began to get out of this "black hole". And she was even going to accelerate sharply, clearly intending to catch up, or even overtake the neighbors who had previously outstripped her, and during her floundering in the "black hole" of social upheavals, the neighbors who had fled unimaginably far ahead. And for this new cadres were needed, which were still just a nascent, but already quite tangible stream flowing from the robbed and forcibly driven into collectivization of the village ...

On the other hand, where to go? There are no more sources of income for accelerated industrialization (which, if it were not for this ten-year "black hole", perhaps there would have been no need, that is, in accelerated ... but which, under the current conditions, was the only possible one), except to rob the village as much as possible there was simply no new leadership in the country. For the new "people's" government simply had nowhere to take credits or loans, so it put itself in the world. So once again I had to do everything at the expense of this very people ... The same thing that a lot of robbed, deprived of their acquired, but miraculously did not fall "under the roller" peasants rush to the city, where they will become an inexhaustible source of personnel for the rapidly growing industry, turned out to be very successful ... For in this case, it turned out that the authorities in one action were solving several problems at once. However, this is exactly how all the industrial breakthroughs took place in all other countries - from England in the 18th century to China at the end of the 20th century. No matter how “popular” this government calls itself. And if it had to be done in conditions of industrial devastation after almost a decade of wars ...

Therefore, there are many such former peasant children who, together with their fathers, fled the villages in order to try, firstly, to hide from the unexpected disaster in big cities and, secondly, to find a new place for themselves and their families. So in the usual street fights end to end, street to street and district to district, they quickly began to play a very influential role. As a result, the local boyish gangs immediately faced a dilemma - either to recognize yesterday's peasants who settled on their street as their own, or ... regularly receive mordas from gangs from other streets, in whose midst such recognition has already taken place, which is why they have grown considerably.

So, growing into, so to speak, a new social environment for Mikola was almost painless - a couple of fights, a split lip and, in general, everything. Moreover, as a guy he was a prominent, strong, so his fists for the gang of “fabzai” who received him from his street turned out to be very good help. Peter himself simply fascinated him. Everyone. And by nature - the cold Neva, white nights, dense forests filled with water, huge granite boulders protruding from the thickets like sleeping stone giants who decided to take a break - all this was so different from his usual south. And stately houses - palaces, cathedrals, and even a multi-storey working barracks, in which their family was assigned a corner, fenced off with sackcloth and patchwork quilts stretched on ropes. And the frenzied (well, compared to their village) pace of life. And the mass of people with which its streets were filled. And all those signs of civilization and progress - cars, trams, electric lighting, drawbridges, which he had never seen anywhere else in such numbers. He just fell in love with this city ...

- Well, how are you, Comrade Senior Lieutenant?

Kolomiets cursed to himself, but when he turned to Ivanyushin who approached, a slight smile sparkled on his face.

“Okay, company commander,” he chuckled, “let's go quickly and, of course, it’s hard for me, an office worker, to keep up with you.” But the NKVD will not let you down, you can be sure.

- Yes, I have no doubt, - Ivanyushin smiled openly. “Besides, we are not far away. Another forty minutes - and we'll get to the place of the day.

- Why did you stop? - Nikolay was surprised. - We could get to the place right away.

- Yes, the newcomers are dead, - Company-two frowned in annoyance. - Their training is not like ours. In general, I am afraid that they may not get there. Eh, they would be under acupuncture now - it's high time ...

Kolomiets smiled benevolently and encouragingly, barely restraining himself from an annoying grimace. That's how it is ... so all those fighters who could hardly withstand the march are from the new replenishment. And all the veterans of the battalion of Captain Kunitsyn are doing quite well with such a speed of the march. Not a bit worse than the wolfhounds of Sergeant Major Nikolaev, and better than Nikolai himself. And this is an unfamiliar word ... However, why not ask?

- As you said - acup ...

- Acupuncture, - Ivanyushin repeated and explained: - Acupuncture that is. When Captain Kunitsyn put needles into us for the first time, it was terrifying. But then - as born again. All the sores disappeared at once and seemed to have increased strength. And in general ... I used to wear glasses. And after that - as if by no means. I don’t know what the Comrade Captain stuck that needle into, only his eyes are like new now. I didn’t even understand right away, ”the company commander confided,“ I put my glasses on my nose in the morning, and everything blurred before my eyes. I rubbed them with a rag, and then I look - I can see much better without them - and he laughed merrily.

- So, right away - if you don't need glasses? The senior lieutenant asked carefully. The fact that for some reason Captain Kunitsyn drove the entire personnel of his battalion through a strange procedure with long wooden knitting needles, which a company commander or two called needles, he established long ago. But the meaning of this event was still not completely clear for Kolomiets. No, everyone who told him about it, as one asserted the same thing that the company commander had just told him. In the first part of his statements. That is, "born again" and all that. Someone also claimed something similar to the second part of Ivanyushin's statement. Well, like "the shortness of breath vanished like a hand", "the liver has stopped hurting." But the senior lieutenant did not take such revelations very seriously. You never know what may seem to people who have gone through a rout, wandering through the woods or, even, captivity, and then ended up in a normally functioning military unit ... But the fact of such a sudden and sharp improvement in vision could not be ignored. And Kolomiets made a nickname in his memory about how, when the opportunity presented itself, to diagnose all those whose stories he had not previously taken seriously enough. And compare with the data of their medical books. Well, those that can be found ...

- Yes, right away. That is, not quite ... - Ivanyushin was slightly embarrassed. - Comrade captain processed us in the evening. And after the same horse race as today. That's why I remembered ... And that I no longer need glasses, I discovered in the morning. So, we can say - not quite right away, but everything happened very quickly.

- And what - no negative feelings? - carefully clarified Kolomiets.

- Nope, I just wanted to eat badly. Well ... right after processing. Although in the morning, too, - Ivanyushin grinned, but almost immediately became stern and, slightly turning his head towards the others, briefly said:

Notes (edit)

That is to say - a medical fact. Most lottery winners lose their money in one way or another within the first three to five years. A few examples:

Vivian Nicholson is one of the most famous lottery winners, who won $ 3 million in 1961 (more than $ 100 million in modern prices). To the question of journalists: "What will you do with the winnings?" declared that she would "spend, spend, spend!" Spent all the money in 5 years. During this time, she managed to get married five times, finally become a widow, survive a stroke, become an alcoholic, recover from alcohol addiction, try to commit suicide twice and spend some time in a madhouse. She is now a retired woman with no family or work, who lives on her $ 300 pension.

Kelly Rogers. This girl was the happiest teenager on the planet. She won € 1.9 million in the lottery when she was 16 years old. By the age of 22, she had 2 suicide attempts, 2 children and a job as a maid. No money.

Michael Carroll $ 15 million An unemployed 26-year-old Briton went to the supermarket to buy a bottle of beer, but "unfortunately" did not have enough money, so he bought two lottery tickets. The result is a divorce from his wife, gambling addiction, promiscuous relationships, drugs. Today Michael Carroll works as a scavenger and earns $ 5 an hour.

William Post lives on welfare despite winning over $ 16 million in the lottery.

Jeffrey Dampire, who won 20 million in the lottery, was killed by greedy relatives.

But perhaps the most notable example for those living in Russia will be the Mukhametzyanov family from Ufa, which won a million dollars in 2001. Think about it - a million dollars! In Russia! In 2001! The money ran out after a year. Everything. And five years later, in 2006, the mother of the family was buried at the minimum rate. Fence - 1200 rubles, a monument - 800, and there was not enough money for a photo on the monument.

Particleboard - for official use. The first level of information closure. The next was considered secret, then top secret information and the last, the highest - of particular importance.

Raise the map - plot the situation on the map: the location of your subunits and units, enemy troops, advance routes, concentration areas, indicate the passability of roads, the permissible load of bridges, etc.

The author knows that Major General Eremin was wounded on July 22, and on July 28, while crossing the Sozh, he was killed, but believes that the actions of the protagonist behind German lines, described in the first book of the cycle, have already led to some change in reality. For example, the defeat of the headquarters of the 293rd Infantry Division clearly had to lead to at least a partial disruption of control. Interruptions in fuel, caused by the blowing up of the fuel depots of the Red Army captured by the Germans, as well as the defeat of marching units sent to replenish the advanced units - to slightly slow down the advance. Not for long - for a few hours, perhaps a day or two. But in this case, ours could well, for example, have time to blow up the bridge in Borisov. And this is another two or three, or even more days of delay in the offensive. And in general, in this case, the battles for Borisov could well lead to the fact that, say, the 18th Panzer Division of the Wehrmacht, and in real history, having lost half of its tanks during these battles, to their outcome, could become completely unfit for combat and would be withdrawn for reformation. And the blowing up of bridges across the Berezina, carried out by the soldiers of the battalion of the protagonist, further shifts the timing of the beginning of the Vitebsk battle and gives our troops more time to deploy and equip positions. The consequence of which (coupled with the absence of the 18th Panzer Division and other losses) may be at least an incompletely successful cauldron near Orsha and, as a consequence, completely different results of the entire Smolensk battle. That is, the situation at the front in the reality of the book is already (although still not very significantly) different from that in historical reality and (by the author's will) Major General Eremin at the end of August is also alive and well.

Biplane fighters developed by Polikarpov I-15-bis and I-153 by the beginning of the war were practically unable to fight with any German fighter and catch up with most of the German bombers, therefore they were most often used as attack aircraft. And they showed themselves very well, since they had four PV or ShKAS machine guns with a rate of fire up to 1800 rounds per minute and could carry up to eight RS-82 under the wing or up to 200 kg (and more) bombs.

The People's Commissariat for State Security was first created in February 1941 and existed for only a few months, until July 1941. And until the re-establishment of the NKGB in April 1943, the State Security Directorate was a subdivision of the NKVD. Therefore, the word "state security" had already appeared in 1941, but the employees of this commissariat were often referred to as NKVDs.

According to historians, one of the reasons (though not the most important) of such a rapid offensive by the German troops in the summer of 1941 was that it turned out to be very dry and hot. As a result, many areas that were previously considered impassable for tanks and vehicles turned out to be quite passable this summer. And this, in turn, provided the Germans, who had both extensive offensive experience and numerous motorized reconnaissance units, noticeably greater opportunities for maneuvering and bypassing Soviet troops.

"Sidor" is a slang name for an army duffel bag.

You are welcome. ( Him.).

Yes? ( Him.)

UNA-F-31 - field telephone. Adopted by the Red Army in 1931.

Yes, yes, of course, Mr. Captain! ( Him.)

Kübelwagen - Volkswagen Tour 82 (Kübelwagen) - German military off-road vehicle, produced from 1939 to 1945.

Unlike the Red Army, the Wehrmacht practically did not use tank cars, and fuel was transported in barrels and cans.

Hiwi or Hilfswilliger (who wants to help) are the so-called "volunteer assistants" of the Wehrmacht, recruited (including those who were forcibly mobilized) from the local population in the occupied territories of the USSR and Soviet prisoners of war. Initially, they served in auxiliary units as drivers, orderlies, sappers, cooks, security guards, etc. Later, the Khivi began to be involved in direct participation in hostilities, operations against partisans and in punitive actions.

It is quite a common practice for 1941, tested by the Germans long before the attack on the USSR in other countries and has proven itself well.

Pistol cartridges, in addition to the actual pistols, were also used by submachine guns - PPD, PPSh, etc.

Stop! ( Him.)

BM-37 - battalion mortar of 82 mm caliber, model 1937.

The maximum rate of fire of the BM-37 was up to thirty rounds per minute.

The main character served in troops organized on completely different principles, therefore, despite the fact that he studied a lot of governing documents, he does not yet know that wearable (transportable) ammunition and standard ammunition for a unit / unit / formation are two big differences ... So, in the rear reserves of a regiment and division, as a rule, additional ammunition is stored for all types of weapons in service with the regiment and division. As a result, the Germans are not yet threatened with immediate problems with ammunition and fuel. But a little later ...

When firing from guns, mainly intended for conducting external fire, that is, howitzers, mortars or mortars, several types of propelling charges are used, differing in the amount of gunpowder. For example, the aforementioned sFH 18 had eight of them. At the same time, charge No. 1 provided an initial velocity of the projectile of 210 m / s, which gave a maximum projectile flight range of only 4 km, but at the maximum elevation of the vertical shelters, etc., and charge No. 8 - 520 m / s and 13,325 m range.

According to a secret note prepared in 1934 by the operational and registration department of the OGPU, about 90 thousand kulaks (and persons equated to them) died on the way and another 300 thousand died from malnutrition and disease in places of exile.

The use of tractors and other agricultural machinery in agriculture really sharply increases labor productivity, but the statement that this is possible only in a large collective farm is false. It all depends on the land area of ​​a private trader and the productivity of a specific sample of agricultural machinery. For example, the same Fordson tractor, which was licensed in 1923, was specially designed for a small farm. And in the United States, it was used precisely by small and medium farmers, since it was a versatile machine. Larger farms preferred specialized machines. By the way, according to some estimates, one of the reasons that they bought a license for Fordson was that in the early 1920s no one was going to abandon the Land Decree, and it was planned to continue, along with the cooperative, to develop and individual peasant (farm) economy, being confident that the "rural worker freed from the yoke of the landowners" will solve all the problems. However, to some extent, until 1930, it was so. The problems were not in the peasants, but in the quality of management ...

Taking into account the complete unpreparedness of these people as leaders in the field of agriculture and agronomy, special courses were created for their initial preparation for work in the countryside. And these two or three weeks were the only education for most of these people in the field of agricultural production. However, some of them were able to get a job at some state farms for a couple of months, but this was rather an exception. They managed to carry out collectivization, but the result of the management of such personnel was a catastrophic drop in the gross grain harvest. So, in 1930 (the last, before the start of the campaign of total collectivization, which unfolded after the XVIII Congress of the All-Union Communist Party of Bolsheviks, held in June 1930), the gross grain harvest amounted to 83.5 million tons. But in 1931 - already only 69.5 million tons, 1932 - 68.4 million tons, 1933 - 68.6 and so on. And this is despite the massive supply of equipment to collective farms caused by the beginning of the production of tractors at the Kharkov and Stalingrad tractor plants and the production of grain harvesters at the Zaporozhye plant "Kommunar" (1930). The indicator of 1930 could be exceeded only in 1937. But the result turned out to be unstable and for the next two years the fees were again below 1930. Despite the fact that by 1937 there were already more than 350 thousand tractors in the MTS alone. That is, the use of agricultural machinery with such an organization of labor, in contrast to world practice, led not to an increase, but first to a catastrophic drop in labor productivity, and then only to the restoration of its level. But the matter was not limited to agriculture. The diversion of 27,519 skilled workers and technicians to carry out collectivization (namely, the number, according to the records, there were twenty-five thousand people), who, moreover, were the most motivated politically (and it was simply pointless to send others to collectivize), caused such a sharp drop in quality production and labor productivity and in industry that this had to be corrected by extraordinary measures. 1928 Seider was released with the wording "For exemplary behavior." He worked as a coupler on the railway. In the fall of 1930, he was killed by three veterans of the Kotovsky division. The researchers have reason to believe that the competent authorities had information about the impending assassination of Seider. Moreover, Seider's liquidators were not convicted.

Slang name for students of FZU - factory schools.

By the end of the Civil War, industrial production on the territory of the soon-formed USSR accounted for only 14% of the 1913 level, and agricultural production barely reached 40%. If we take into account that in 1914-1916 a 20% increase in industrial production was registered, and it was at this time that the serial production of aircraft engines, an almost complete range of tools and machine tools was launched in the country, production of bearings began, and by 1918 six new ones were to be launched car factories, as well as several aircraft, the fall looks even more catastrophic.