Monday, December 8, 2014

Sketches From The War | life in the besieged city...

Summaries of the militia of New Russia

Written by Paul sketches of war grow (first part):

I want to tell you about one of the aspects of life in the besieged city. It does not matter that the siege is not complete. It is, and it affects everything. Even things that seem to us prosaic. They are transformed, and from the quiet and inoffensive platitudes turn into a tough and uncompromising game with death. A game in which there are no conservation and restart that can not be. On this and will be my story. - And we thought you did not come back. 

The Mole, the new senior in my group, who replaced the injured Shah, shakes my hand. - We are glad to see you again, Shakespeare. - Well I said that I was going home for a maximum of two weeks . - Many people say that. But not all then come back. I know very well about it. Although the word "many" - is, nevertheless, an exaggeration. 

Most returns and that the vast majority. Another thing is that many initially come here for some fixed period of time. Some even on vacation. No, they are not resting. They want to help in any way they can. They fight on par with everyone.They understand that this war for the future of their children. And they want to give it my duty. 

But these children must be fed. And grown men, the last war, can not leave work to fight here all the time. They can do so only thirty days a year. Deceiving the family and, instead of the sea and fishing, come here. We understand this very well.Because, besides the sacred duty to his people, there is the sacred duty of a husband and father. And people who do not want to neglect them, deserve no less respect than those who come here for a long time. There are others. 

Those who come to the Donbass for ticks in the biography. In order to have something to boast later in the company of friends and hear in his address: "Wai, krasauchik!". They wipe them here for a while, get the army ksivu People's Republic of make "heroic photo shoot" with a gun and run for the ribbon. More they are nothing. We were in the unit are, and, most recently: my mother swore that they would return, took documents for humanitarian aid for the unit (largely supplied the Russian charities) and were as follows. The documents have been submitted, the phone is disconnected. Their address is not heard swearing or cursing. No. Just a quiet, silent contempt.
More, they probably did not deserve. And cases completely banal things. People who visited in Hell, suddenly again dipped into a peaceful life and can not return. Just do not find the strength to do so. Well ... Who are we to blame them? This is a strange war. And she had a very strange relationship with the outside world. - Ready to return to duty? - And how. I really missed the machine. This parallel world tightens and charms as the darkness of a moonless night, and many are really starting to miss him in the civilian world.

Especially if this same citizen all rotted through, and you, being there, suddenly shrill understand it. - Well, then welcome, brother. Mole smiling. In contrast to the very young Shah, who took the first machine a few months ago (as most are), Mole - an experienced fighter with forty eyes of a wolf.
Calm, unflappable, even-tempered. Mole is a good man. But if I wanted to meet him on the battlefield. Not far rattled. We froze for a second. Inbox. "Grad". - Close placed. Kilometer, not more. Mole pensively looking out the window. During the time I was in the big Russian and treated zastuzhennye light (standard military diagnosis - illness damp trenches and cold barracks), the garrison of "Varyag", a new base. We moved from the outskirts to the center of Donetsk. In the former administration building, two-story house on one of the central streets. New barracks was convenient, comfortable, warmer, but, in this case, is in the area of work artillery pigs.
Included here went close. Very close. And now it was a very important issue. Two days ago, the battle for the airport broke out with renewed vigor. And this time ukrov defense finally cracked and began to overwhelm. Realizing this, the enemy like mad. In the city began to beat with some desperate, hysterical rage. But we did not stay in debt. Every day, pigs received an adequate response. Volleys "Grad" merged into a long, drawn-hum. Firing from heavy mortars reminded pulёmёtnye queue. Howitzers poured into the general chorus of his loud contralto. 

These sounds are pleasing to the ear. Each of them eloquently testified scum shot city, gets short shrift. - Guys, urgently need two fighters. - Voice Ball brings out of his reverie. - What is the task? - Mole alert. - Oh, nothing special. - Ball red from the cold, and as always bursting with optimism. - Story about living somewhere hit by a high-voltage line. Two areas remained without electricity. 

Now go team of repairmen. Well, that at least find out where it broke. They would provide support. - Why? They're not going to the front. - Well, you never know. All are still not a resort. - Ball chuckled. If you can call it. He laughs softly not howitzers. Mole nods. - Then go and Wonderful Shakespeare. Guys bold, but combat experience they have few - have come recently. For your thing then repairmen. You like Shakespeare? Or are you just going to write articles? - Those guys. I militia. - That's what I see you're up in arms.laugh. 

Suitable Wonderful. My partner - a remarkable character. On the Internet, and not only he is known as "Streamer Vlad." The same 17-year-old lad from Mariupol, who filmed and posted online footage of the massacre, arranged pravosekami in his hometown on the feast day on May 9th. When Bandera bastards from the windows shot people who dared to celebrate Victory Day.

What's in Bandera former "Ukraine" suddenly became a crime for which you can kill with impunity on the street. It was one of those episodes that eventually resulted in war. For this shoot Wonderful managed to get in the dungeons of the SBU. Location and escaped miraculously same: it exchanged. Despite all these tumultuous events, piled on him, out of the blue, Vlad still very kid. It passed something drastic maturation that has befallen all children Donetsk. Children of war. Children horror. After his release he went to Russia, where he returned only recently to join the militia.
Neobstrelyanny young perenёk. That even shave yet not really know how. But who wants to pay back is burning reptiles, zalivshim blood of his city. We were given weapons. AKM and AKS with folding stock, the work of local artisan gifts. 7.62 and 5.45. Unceremoniously take a "seven '. Still young, but I like it. Generally, personal preferences in arms appear here very quickly. I opted for the "enduring classics": 7.62 "paddle", 1972 edition.

In spite of this, the machine shines like new. She and long-term storage warehouses. Not automatic, and the poet's dream. - And this is why? - Vlad indicates compensatory muzzle. Well, for not knowing the person he really looks weird. - I'll explain later. Come on. cram into the back seat of the car. 

Behind the wheel Yegor, the commandant of the Kuibyshev district. They Baloo are somewhat similar to each other, despite the fact that quite different both in appearance and in character. However, the broad thickset figure, huge fists and similarity to host Russian forests gives them a similarity. - Shakespeare.- Yegor slowly leaves the yard barracks. - They are waiting for us near the district executive committee.
Green "tablet". Just will drive them. And, if necessary, will be held. Task - garbage. A maximum of two hours. Conventional utility work, in fact. - Prose life. - Ball laughed again. - Just you be careful. There may be a lot of fun. Egor thoughtful. He - a career military man. Sergeant Airborne, in this war for several months dorosshy to major. Deserved.
According to their works. Serious, sedate, not particularly inclined to joke. - What is expected? - can fly. Pigs may occur. Both are unlikely, otherwise you had not used the two. Ukropov in the sector is long gone, and there is no place to shoot. Is that in the local loony bin. - There's a madhouse? - Yeah.Mental hospital. Therefore, the area is called Thumbsucker bar. This type of humor. - Of course. I like the name. Mood rises. Repairmen arrived a little late. The fact that we accompany them, there is nothing new: a detachment of "Varyag" took a long time under the protection of the besieged city of communication. Otherwise, it is simply impossible. 

Transplanted into UAZ communal. Their team - three weary middle-aged men. One (the one that is younger) at the wheel. Asks us the usual question: - When it's over, guys? Habitually answer: - When the Lions take. - Joke? - The driver smiles.- No. I really do not joke. - Until we burned the nest of infection - they do not uymutsya. - Say too. - The men shivered. - They would drive away from Donetsk. 

That though not fired. - Well, guys, we now exactly this deal. - Indicates a hand at the cannonade. - A Th so loud? - Vlad listens. - Outgoing very close. I also listen. Yes, indeed. - So here near our batteries. And arrived in the morning to beat the dill. - So that's it. Tank line have been? - It is not flew. Well, the day has just begun. I looked at the clock. Half-past ten. Yes, the day is yet to come. Pigs are shot while in other areas.But things can change at any time. - Somehow I do not own. - Wonderful in the back seat was worried. - Yes, calm down. Here all the time like that. It's true. Here, the phrase "all in God's hands" becomes unusually extreme sounds. We drive to the first stop.
The very local mental hospital. I'm out of the car and light a. How beautiful around. Fallen snow at night poured all around the blinding glow of crystal. Around trees like fluffy hills. Under bertsami musical snow crunching. And the air as if alive: he shines and sparkles like the snow. And above all this boundless steppe sky. Clean.Without a single cloud. "Under blue skies magnificent carpets, glistening in the sun, the snow lies. Transparent forest one is black, and spruce through frost green, And the river under the ice glitters "(c).
Yes, Pushkin - indeed our everything. Better than him, no one has described this, cold and hot at the same time, a luxurious beauty of the Russian winter. And it is unlikely someone will succeed better. I looked at the hospital building. The mansion of red brick, enclosed with high walls and surrounded by a beautiful park. Yes, the local crazies live beautifully. Right, pastoral place from which emanates peace and serenity. 

Although it may be the way it is necessary. May be mentally ill people find it easier to recover in such a place? Repairers returned. - Everything is intact. - Said a senior. - Now go to the beam itself. Our boss says that we do not slid off the track. We drive to where it crosses the line and look around.Everything. - A sho it? - The driver is clearly not satisfied. - We're so not see anything!The line at the beam goes. Let's quickly along it'll pass. - There is restless. - Senior skeptical. - On the road we not only lazy srisuet. If, as we get out? - Yes, do not worry.Everything is normal. - A young chauffeur determined. Wonderful We look at each other. Our task is to accompany them, and not to determine the route. But this conversation we like less and less.

Especially since we were both local and this part of the city did not know. What is it? Why not peace? We reached quickly. The track runs at low shaft on both sides of the tree-lined. We seen her really well. We stand a little apart. Smoke. Repairmen still lively debate. The driver something fiercely argues. As a result, senior waving and feeds us a sign. We sit in the car. The driver deals with long levers, switching bridges. - We are where it's going? - My concern is growing. - Yes, everything is normal! - Vague answers and the driver suddenly takes off.

We turned off the road and go fast on country road, windswept snow. The car rides on the bumps.Shock absorbers she obviously did not mersedesovskie. I frantically look. The surrounding landscape with every second like it less and less: it is empty. Like extinct.- Where are we going? I turn to the driver with a clear desire to get him back on track ... And suddenly I saw in front of someone's abandoned positions. 

Boxes from under shells, broken parapets, left the trenches were covered with snow. And the white snow dirty black spots mortar breaks. Stop! Snow fell last night. This is the latest hit. - turn back! Too late. The Abominable howling slashed ears and instantly changed a loud bang. - This is us! - Literally howled senior communalshik. The car skidded leads. We stop. Sitting there frozen. They seemed paralyzed. - Outside! Out of the car, quick!This is my voice? This is me screaming? Yes. Ya My order again includes people like.

They shed their torpor and with incredible agility piled the snow. I jump after him. We dive into the white veil. Again howl. Wonderful automatically pulls the neck up to look at the source of the sound. - Drop !!! He buries his face in the snow. And at this point I see the flash. And I hear the roar. Sharp. Biting. As whiplash. And all this in seven meters away from me. Mina ... vosmidesyatki ... God ... The earth trembled, knocking himself out sparkling eddies barbed snow dust ... The lights went out. The sounds died down. ... The Lord - my shepherd and I will not be in anything ... He need rest to me on the grain-producing pastures and leads His clear waters of His ... He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for the sake of his own ... And if I go shadow of death, then I Will Fear No Evil ... because God is with me ... How is it then? ... I remember it completely ... Well, it does not matter, Lord ... You know everything and so ... Just do not leave those whom I love. If I leave ... - ... Shekspiiiir Shekspiiiir ... Shekspiiiir ...Wonderful ... Screaming ... I shake my head .... Sounds come back. I do not understand, am I alive? But how? !! ...

Written by Paul sketches of war grow (second part): 

- Shakespeare, are you okay? - Wonderful, too, shakes his head and, for some reason, furiously rubbing his neck. How much time has passed? Hours? Minutes? Fraction of a second? - It seems to be. What about you? - I'm, like, too. I inspect themselves. Then the rest. All intact.No scratches. Carefully look out of the snowdrift. She fell into the ravine.

 In a small natural depression overgrown with stunted trees, somehow crooked and turned inside out. We got them to death. took out his phone and dialed Yegor. - Egor, f ***! - Well, first of all, do not f ***. - Yegor not like this section of the Russian language. - I'm sorry. We flew by. And, well. And may try to make a second run. - Present briefly the essence of the situation to him. 

The silence in the tube. Then tense voice Yegor. - Shakespeare. In war, it happens. We're both all understand. You're older. Make decisions on the environment. - It is. I put the phone. And I understand that at me without blinking four pairs of eyes watching. Three civilians and a young fighter.Three man paralyzed by fear and green kid with a gun. And next car. And she - target.These people should live. At any cost. And for that I say. Personally. Personally. 

They are now waiting for my decision. That affects their lives. And that must be taken quickly. I take a deep breath. I try to keep her voice firm. Like, I get it. Pronouncing loudly, clearly, not faltering: - Listen to my team. Throw the car. Civil derive from the shelling. They moved. And even have started to move in the right direction. Crawl away from the machine. Moving to the highway. Near shelter, for which one could somehow climb a hundred meters. Polzёm quickly. Civil fall behind. - Next! Do not stop! Not to raise their heads! Quickly! They are accelerated. On Time. 

The air was raw nasty howl again. Quiet. But unambiguous. We had to crawl meters by 50. Drop another mine. Far away from us. Poor as they are being targeted. I do like a jerk and time stands still. The World Around smeared and stretched, as if the canvas with wet paint someone ran a hand. All right, left, top and bottom of the back as if disappeared.From the whole universe remains only what lies ahead. A small window of life to which it is necessary to get at any price. Faster Pasha, faster! Do not stop! - Faster!Faster! Do not stop! Again my voice. Again, sounds like from another world. I see bulging eyes Wonderful. Man rowing in the snow like crazy seal. Rightly so: falls another. 

At this time closer. Your division ... How do they know that we do here? After all, there can be no about any eye contact. Maybe it's just a tank line? After all, somewhere near our battery. Or ... What's Egor spoke on the possible emergence of pigs? - Guys. - I say quietly, breathing hitched for a long time, but they hear. They catch my every word. - Guys, if you will ukry, I will fight. No offense, guys. In this case, simply run. They understand. In captivity, we do not give up. Better to go right here.And take with at least one pig, if you're lucky. crawl to cover: thickets along our track.Rise, and, crouching, almost squatting in an incredible position to begin to run track. - Hey! - I hear the voice of the driver. - 

Hey, how is it that we otymeyut same in all the cracks because we threw the car. And suddenly it on the go. Come'll take! I unwrap it in two seconds ... - What are you, stupid? - I'm not angry. Emotions like turned off. - Do you have a family? - Yeah. - He rattles noisily nose and wipes his sleeve. - So why are you so you do not want to live? He pauses. As if to reinforce my words there, where we had just crawled out, rattles another "whiplash." Turn my head and see directly on our track black imprint explosion. Hit from the first volley. Clearly went into us. 

We missed the death of no more than a minute. And maybe half a minute. I do not feel neither time nor distance. So it's still not tank line. Beat on us. It is for us and not for someone else. And breakthrough pigs seems to be no. Then what? How they were able to aim us? Here it is, the route. The road of life. On it are our self-propelled guns. Go to the front. The guys on the armor waving his hand to us. We go out of the bushes and stop to catch my breath. Trying to regain his breath. Does not work. - Commander! What do we do next? I raised my eyes. 

Nearby, leaning against a tree, standing senior repairmen. He is pale as snow, which has just been crawled. - In the city ... I give Wonderful order to catch the car. He does it very quickly. Young couple on not new "Opel" takes on board three repairmen. Everything. We rescued civilians.Snatched from the jaws of the war three lives. Now you have to choose themselves. - Shakespeare ... I froze hands. Surprised look at weird. He gives me his game. - I do not feel hands. I can not keep him. - Why are you not wearing gloves? - I left them in the barracks. Loud and high-rise of matter, short but detailed listing of all the natural and unnatural ways komsumatsii known to mankind. Otvozhu soul. I looked at the hands of Wonderful. Yeah ... I give him his gloves. 

Then, thinking rented scarf. - shook the top. Next stop large snowblower. - You guys need help? Of course. Thank you, my good man. Already in the cockpit dial Egor: - Yegor report: we derived from the civilian fire. Two hundred and three hundred not. Now go back to the city for a ride. - Shakespeare! Thank you! You're doing fine. Everything was right. - We dropped the car. - Yes, to hell with it! Let them now engaged in their property. You people saved, this is important. - I'm taking to the clinic wonderful. He, on the go, hands froze. - Your mother. call in the fleet of snowplows. There should be a medical center.Wonderful shocked. 

It shakes. The guy lost his nerve. It's nothing. The main thing is that there on the field, he lasted as long as necessary. Well done, lad. Then, after all, you can even howl at the moon. But when it is necessary - to do everything right. A die by the hand of his control room. Somewhere there is a medical center. Seated at the console elderly woman sees us and immediately jumps. Begins to help. Apparently, the kind we have more. - What are you doing, guys? - wires repaired. Task - garbage.The prose of life. Trying crooked smile. 

Not sure I get. - I am for the first time under fire! - Wonderful sitting and slowly sways from side to side. - Take it easy, bro. Me too.A woman manager looking incredulously: - You behaved calmly. shrugs. And what can I say to her? What is so simple it was necessary? What if I behaved differently, but now on a snow-covered field Evil beams cooled down to five corpses? It's not so hard: just pull myself together. And to make things right. Today, I understand very well that it actually is: to be the commander. Even such a small and totally unfit for action group.
This is not tempting. This is just a wild, crazy responsibility. Over the life of those who looks at you unblinking. Responsibility before God, their families, and to his own conscience. Today I tasted it to the fullest. - Wonderful. - I suddenly relaxed. - So you still want to know why you need a muzzle? *** Barracks. I stood staring at the TV screen. Silently smoke. - ... Today at 11:30 multiple rocket launchers "Grad" Ukrainian security forces was fired Donetsk psychoneurological hospital. The fire was conducted by Children's Department.
By an amazing coincidence, no dead and wounded. Witnesses testify that in the area acted gunner: a certain girl, let's targeting the enemy artillery. Currently searching for her ... I looked at the screen ... Forest mutilated black blots. Park trees cut like a scythe. In the wall of red brick gaping hole steaming ... Sound on TV somehow suddenly disappeared and I look at the silent moving picture. The girl, so ... And it is not whether we worked on today? 

One hundred pounds ... In another way they would simply could not learn what we did there. In this desolate Bad beam-like white, cold desert. Y-yes. Catch to this bitch and talk to her at least a couple minutes. Say, she's a girl? No, guys. She's not a girl. She did not man. As they all.
All of this rag-tag, shooting "Grad" for children. - ... The damage inflicted on the grid of the city at this morning's bombardment, have been found and eliminated. At the moment the power supply of two districts of Donetsk fully restored ... That's it. Vykusi bastards. Donetsk alive. And Donetsk will be not wait, you bastards.

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