Soldiers of the 45th regiment are not allowed to enter. The special forces of the Airborne Forces are an elite unit of the airborne troops. Basic qualities of a paratrooper

On the third day, we managed to get "with a watering can" and a notebook "into the 45th Separate Guards Order of Alexander Nevsky reconnaissance regiment special purpose. Accompanying a group of civilian Arkharov volunteers was the head of the press service of the Airborne Forces, Colonel Alexander Anatolyevich Cherednik. Exceptionally intelligent head of the press service. I suppose it was thanks to his efforts that the visit to the guardsmen-paratroopers turned out to be so eventful.

To begin with, all those who arrived were instructed, then we were given flowers in order to put them on the stones of the monument to the dead soldiers of the regiment. The regiment, as they say, is "at war", but in war there are no losses.

The youngest part of the Airborne Forces of Russia is the 45th separate reconnaissance regiment, the formation of which began in February 1994. The regiment was formed on the basis of two separate battalions, each of which had its own history of formation and development before being included in the regiment. By order of the Commander of the Airborne Forces, in order of historical continuity, the day of the formation of the 45th regiment is considered to be the day of July 25, 1992.

On December 2, 1994, the personnel of the regiment left for North Caucasus to participate in the elimination of illegal armed groups on the territory of the Chechen Republic. From December 12, 1994 to January 25, 1995, reconnaissance groups and special-purpose detachments (assault detachments) from the regiment, in cooperation with units of the Airborne Forces, took part in combat operations to capture the most important enemy targets, including in the city of Grozny.

On February 12, 1995, units and subunits of the regiment returned to their permanent deployment points. On March 15, 1995, the combined detachment of the regiment again arrived in Chechnya, continuing to carry out combat missions until June 13, 1995. During this period, as a result of competent military operations, there were no losses in the regiment.

Decree of the President Russian Federation dated July 21, 1995, the commander of the special-purpose reconnaissance group, senior lieutenant Ermakov V.K., was awarded the title of Hero of the Russian Federation (posthumously) for the courage and heroism shown in the performance of a special task of the command to disarm illegal armed groups. On July 30, 1995, a monument in honor of the dead scouts was opened on the territory of the unit in a solemn ceremony.

On May 9, 1995, the regiment was awarded a diploma of the President of the Russian Federation for services to the Russian Federation. The regiment participated in the parade dedicated to the 50th anniversary of the Victory over Nazi Germany.

From February to May 1997, the combined detachment of the regiment took part in a peacekeeping mission in the zone of separation of the Georgian and Abkhaz armed forces in the city of Gudauta.

July 26, 1997, following the glorious traditions Armed Forces, the regiment was awarded the Combat Banner and Certificate of the 5th Guards Airborne Rifle Order of Mukachevo Kutuzov 3rd degree regiment, disbanded on June 27, 1945, and stored in the Central Museum of the Armed Forces of the Russian Federation.

Since September 12, 1999, the combined reconnaissance detachment of the regiment took part in the anti-terrorist operation in the North Caucasus.

From the monument we went to the obstacle course. The strip, not to say that it is very huge, but large enough to be guaranteed to get tired. It imitates a section of a mountainous wooded area and is overcome at a fast pace. So that the fighters on the strip would not get bored, other fighters provided timely detonations of imitator charges and fired at the storming strip with blank cartridges from a machine gun. The paratroopers moved in twos, after overcoming each element of the obstacle course they stopped, looked around and covered their comrade, firing blanks. They moved smartly.

Not far from the obstacle course, other fighters practiced packing parachutes. The film crew of the First Channel worked next to them. Wet from the heat and diligence, the correspondent listened attentively to the commands and explanations of his personal mentor and immediately followed the instructions received. If reports are now prepared in this way, and also end with a jump with a self-laid dome, I take off my hat. The work of a professional. This one certainly won’t tell about the “overlapping of the rafters”.

From the obstacle course we went to the shooting range and looked at various types of small arms available in the state in the regiment. I can’t tell much about the weapon - I fell into unconsciousness, got agitated and lost touch with reality. Repeatedly offered to change at least some of the available samples for his photographic equipment, he even agreed to "his cartridges." But it didn't work out. But he took everything and looked at it.

Kalashnikov assault rifle with PBS-1 and underbarrel grenade launcher, modifications of the SVD sniper rifle, gun SR-1 (SPS), VSS "Vintorez", AS "Val", PSS "Vul", knife NRS-2, SME pistol, submachine gun SR-2M "Veresk", PY pistol, the legendary APB with a silencer and everything else. All this is necessary not only to be able to use, but to use successfully. Separately, it was told about the presence of a collection of captured weapons, for example, Georgian. It is also closely studied so that the fighters, if necessary, can beat the enemy with his own weapons.

We arrived at the territory of the airborne complex (VDK). This is a decent size playground with all the necessary simulators for a full-fledged training in parachuting. With us, two groups of fighters demonstrated several exercises in separation from the aircraft and in safe landing. All exercises were carried out as expected: with two parachutes (main and reserve), with weapons and with all standard ammunition.

Soldiers are taught all the necessary actions on mock-ups of real aircraft from which paratroopers jump. There is a full-fledged parachute tower, a simulator has been built for making a training jump from a helicopter. You equip yourself properly, climb the ladder to the tower, enter the troop compartment of the helicopter, fix yourself on the rail and jump down and forward, vigorously pushing off with your feet.

With a decent speed, with a roar and a metallic clang, you rush forward along the guide rail. To increase naturalism, the rail is skillfully curved in several places, so that every trainee is jerked and thrown up as in a real jump. At the end of the training path, a paratrooper is waiting for a group of colleagues with a safety rope. Having grouped, the paratrooper flies with his feet into a specially prepared area with sawdust, and the other two insure the “landed” with a special rope, preventing the excess from flying forward.

Looks like an attraction in the Park of Culture. But during the training jump, the paratrooper does not forget to perform a number of actions, brought to full automatism. As a matter of fact, the very fact of a successful landing, for example, for me is the end of a risky experiment, joy and a desire to immediately drink. And for a fighter - only the beginning. It was me who, after my first jump, went light to the bar, and for him, after landing, a forced march and / or a fight usually follow.

Soldiers-paratroopers live not in the barracks, but in a soldier's hostel. In each compartment, consisting of two adjacent rooms - 4-6 people. Bathroom and toilet. In the corridor, in addition to the soldiers' quarters, there is also a gym, a recreation room, and classrooms. Everything inside is clean and cool. At the entrance there are tanks with drinking water and mugs for those who want to quench their thirst. The orderly carefully glares at all incoming and outgoing. In general, a good, comfortable and clean accommodation. I especially remember the wall newspaper, it is documented there below. Laughed.

Not without, of course, without a dining room. No miracles were seen in the dining room - just good-quality male grub. Without frills, arugula and vyazigi, God forgive me, were not served, but you can see right away: the food is hearty and fresh. Without unnecessary frills, he ate everything that was offered. I didn't want any more because it was very hot. The thermometer was rushing to the mark of +40.

To the building of the soldiers' canteen, soldiers march in formation and sing a song. The song was the same for everyone, with intolerant words "we are Russians, Russians are coming!" Some commanders reported to their fighters that they did not hear the units. In response, the unit turned up the volume and brutally stamped the step. very good in total mass fighters of a fresh draft were noticeable. Berets are hoisted on the shaved heads of young guardsmen, but some are not like that. Grated, seasoned warriors, with honor, wear drop-cut berets, which certainly look much more bravo than the “default” headgear.

But the soldier's ingenuity, of course, figured out how best to remake the authorized "airfields" into what is needed: the fighter is stocked with a beret small size, rips out the lining from it. If he takes a suture (i.e. with a seam), the fabric is torn along the seam, all the excess is cut off and sewn again. The sutured beret is wetted with water and dried on a jar of a suitable diameter or directly on the head.

The procedure must be repeated until complete readiness. As soon as the beret is ready, it is necessary to clarify the haircut. "A droplet" on a shaved head in a statutory way looks like it should! A fighter passing by in such a “droplet” additionally explained that if you bother with self-manufacturing I don’t want a beret, then you can just buy ready-made. And he left smiling.

I noticed some discrepancy in the shoes. One of the paratroopers explained that you can use the boots that are given out as shoes, or you can buy for your money the ones you like. This, of course, is not about lacquered boots or cowboy "Cossacks", but about jumping boots for everyday wear. I saw several people in solid American and German boots. And at the shooting range he paid attention to heels. The fighters with weapons lay down in position, so that the soles were clearly visible. A lot of boots with a pretty worn out tread, so they run and jump all the time.

A group of fighters with an officer demonstrated to the audience the main set of weapons and equipment of a reconnaissance fighter. Small arms, ammunition, a knife, hand and grenade grenades, mines, a one-time anti-tank grenade launcher, ropes, wires, adhesive tape, dressing bags, foam, a hat with a sweater, an infantry shovel, explosives in checkers, a minimum of medicines, various detonators and other necessary for autonomous reconnaissance in war conditions.

For ease of understanding: once I had a chance to carry 2,000 rounds of ammunition. Ammo only, no weapons or other equipment. I managed to walk four kilometers. It was very hard. And the fighter has 450+ rounds of ammunition for the machine gun, the machine itself and all of the above. And we must constantly look around, under our feet, be ready to open fire and cover our comrades. And on you - 40+ kilograms of equipment and weapons.

It was especially interesting to learn about the mines that scouts can use to organize ambushes or, for example, evade pursuit if necessary. Just by destroying this very persecution. They showed a MON-50 directional mine and an OZM-72 omnidirectional fragmentation mine jumping out. I met German analogues of OZM-72 more than once, but MON-50 turned it over in his hands for the first time. They said - a very effective weapon in capable hands, an analogue of the American M18A1 Claymore.

In short: inside the plastic body of the mine in a synthetic resin filler are metal balls and rollers. Pieces 500 approximately. And plastic explosives. When a mine is triggered, a specially curved body of the product makes metal submunitions fly in a sector 54 degrees wide and about 5 meters high. At a distance of 50 meters, the lethal effect of submunitions is reliable. A terrible thing, it mows everything in the working sector. And if you combine it with others of the same kind, mask and complement the effect small arms- there is no salvation at all. Excellent remedy For ambush, including for ambush without direct contact with the enemy.

The jumping mine is a round steel can. At the moment of operation, it throws up, above itself, an internal “glass” with the same balls-rollers, only there are already about 2,500 of them. The glass is tied to a tension cable. A mine worked, the glass flew to a height of about a meter, the cable twitched, the detonator went off, metal balls flew in all directions and wounded and killed everyone, even the lying soldiers.

This mine is perhaps the most powerful of the circular destruction fragmentation mines. Even the OZM-160 mines, which are much larger in size and weight, do not provide such an even distribution of fragments over the affected area, as the OZM-72 mine distributes its ready-made lethal elements.

The experience of using the mine unequivocally indicates that in the zone of continuous destruction (the radius of the zone is 30 meters) there will not be a single object the size of a person who will not receive at least one video. even if it's flat on the ground. The explosion of this mine, due to its screeching sound of flying rollers, is not to be confused with any other. The soldiers nicknamed her "Zlyuka" or "Witch".

From the funny: during his stay at the VDK, Colonel Cherednik told how exactly they use the old ones when training paratroopers car tires. You need to carefully jump over them like this and like that - and immediately demonstrated personally how exactly you need to jump. Jumped, I remind you, the whole colonel. In uniform, with shoulder straps. The faces of young soldiers resting on the sidelines expressed some degree of surprise :).

Some airborne portraits:

Ah, yes. Completely forgot. Of course, all of the above is pure window dressing. Personally, the Minister of Defense from the bushes made sure that we liked everything, and then, in the dining room, he secretly put meat in a saucepan. I noticed him and understood: this is such a secret plan to throw dust in the eyes of soldiers' mothers. Let me!

45th separate brigade special purpose is the youngest military unit as part of the Airborne Forces (VDV) of Russia, its formation began in February 1994.

The regiment was formed on the basis of two separate special-purpose battalions, each of which, before being included in the regiment, had its own history of formation and development.

The 901st Separate Air Assault Battalion was formed on the territory of the Transcaucasian Military District and was immediately transferred to Czechoslovakia as part of the Central Group of Forces, where from November 20, 1979 it was stationed in n. the village of Riechki.

In March 1989, in connection with the withdrawal Soviet troops from Eastern Europe, the battalion was redeployed to the city of Aluksne, Latvian SSR, and became part of the Baltic Military District. In May 1991, the battalion was transferred to the Transcaucasian Military District and relocated to the city of Sukhumi, Abkhaz ASSR.

In August 1992, the battalion was reassigned to the Command of the Airborne Forces and renamed the 901st separate airborne battalion. Later, as a separate battalion, he became part of the 7th Guards Airborne Division, but the city of Sukhumi remained the point of permanent deployment.

In 1993 during Georgian-Abkhazian conflict The battalion performed tasks of guarding and defending important military and government facilities on the territory of Abkhazia from looting and destruction. During this period, eight servicemen of the battalion died, having fulfilled their military duty to the end, and about 20 were injured. For the performance of combat missions, 13 servicemen of the battalion were awarded the Order "For Personal Courage", 21 people - the medal "For Courage" and 1 person - the medal "For Military Merit".

In October 1993, the battalion was redeployed from the city of Sukhumi to the Moscow region, where in February of the following year it was reorganized into the 901st separate special-purpose battalion. With the beginning of the formation of the 45th Ops of the Special Forces, the battalion was included in its composition.

The 218th separate special-purpose battalion was formed on July 25, 1992. By order of the commander of the Airborne Forces, in order of historical continuity, the day of the formation of 45 op Special Forces is considered to be the day the creation of this battalion.

The battalion took part in the implementation of peacekeeping missions in the zones of interethnic conflicts in Transnistria in June-July 1992, in North Ossetia - in September-November 1992, in Abkhazia - in December 1992. Many servicemen of the battalion were awarded for courage and heroism state awards.

Active use of battalions in the solution special tasks in various conflicts showed the need for their unification in the regiment. By July 1994, the 45th op of the Special Forces was fully formed, equipped with personnel, equipment, and began combat training.

On December 2, 1994, the personnel of the regiment left for the North Caucasus to participate in the liquidation of illegal armed formations on the territory of the Chechen Republic.

By decree of the President of the Russian Federation of July 21, 1995, the commander of the special-purpose reconnaissance group, Senior Lieutenant Ermakov V.K. On July 30, 1995, a monument in honor of the dead scouts was opened on the territory of the regiment in a solemn ceremony.

On May 9, 1995, the regiment was awarded a diploma of the President of the Russian Federation for services to the Russian Federation. He participated in the military parade dedicated to the 50th anniversary of the Victory in the Great Patriotic War.

From February to May 1997, the combined detachment of the regiment took part in a peacekeeping mission in the zone of separation of the Georgian and Abkhaz armed forces in the city of Gudauta.

On July 26, 1997, following the glorious traditions of the Armed Forces, the regiment was awarded the Combat banner and certificate of the 5th Guards Airborne Rifle Order of Kutuzov of Mukachevo, 3rd degree, which was disbanded on June 27, 1945.

From September 12, 1999, the combined reconnaissance detachment of the regiment took part in the counter-terrorist operation in the North Caucasus.
In August 2008, units of the 45th Ops of the Special Forces took part in the operation to force Georgia to peace. The officer of the regiment, Hero of Russia Anatoly Lebed was awarded the Order of St. George IV degree.

On July 20, 2009, in accordance with the Decree of the President of the Russian Federation of December 18, 2006 No. 1422, the regiment was awarded the St. George banner.

In April 2010, the battalion tactical group of the regiment carried out combat mission to ensure the security of Russian citizens on the territory of the Kyrgyz Republic.

By Decree of the President of the Russian Federation of February 9, 2011 No. 170, the regiment was the first in modern history to be awarded the Order of Kutuzov. The award was presented on April 4, 2011 at the location of the regiment in Kubinka. Russian President Dmitry Medvedev personally attached the badge and ribbon of the order to the St. George's banner of the regiment.

In May-June 2012, the regiment's reconnaissance platoon participated in joint exercises with the "green berets" of the US armed forces at the American military base of the 10th Special Operations Forces Group, located in Fort Carson.

The paratroopers of the regiment honorably continue the glorious combat traditions of scouts of all generations, proudly carry the high guard rank, because it is not for nothing that their motto is: "The strongest wins."

During the existence of the regiment, five servicemen were awarded the title of Hero of the Russian Federation for their courage and heroism.

A year ago, when I heard the song “To the Scout of the Special Forces of the Airborne Forces” in the tent of the 45th Separate Guards Regiment of the Special Forces of the Airborne Forces, at first I thought that it was performed by a professional musician, it sounded so good.

In response to a question about the author of the hit, the fighters showed me a photo of a tall, strong man in a field uniform and a blue beret: “This is our scout, he served in a special detachment! Slava Korneev is his name, Leshy is his call sign. He is a holder of the Order of Courage, a medal of the Order of Merit for the Fatherland, 2nd class, and two medals of Courage. Not mummers, not fake, the real one. And he sings about a thing that he really knows.

Veteran of intelligence, singer-songwriter Vyacheslav Korneev tells about himself, about his service, life and songs.

I was born on February 25, 1976 in the polar city of Kovdor, in the Murmansk region. School years flew by unnoticed, and in the spring of 1994 I was drafted into the army. Despite my passionate desire to serve in the airborne troops, they brought me to artillery training in Pargolovo, near St. Petersburg. Learned to be a crew commander anti-tank gun MT-12, assigned the rank of junior sergeant and assigned to the 134th Guards Motorized Rifle Regiment of the 45th Motorized Rifle Division peacekeeping forces, which was based in the village of Kamenka, Vyborgsky district. The commander of our regiment was Guards Colonel Mikhail Yurievich Malofeev. On January 17, 2000, he will die in Grozny with the rank of major general and will be posthumously awarded the high title of Hero of Russia.

One night, on duty at the soldier's canteen, I introduced myself to a passing general and asked to be sent to the Caucasus. Was it recklessness? Don't know. Only in response did I hear: “Which division? Hand over the outfit, run-march to the location! And it spun! Getting, equipment, food. Building personnel. The commander reads out the lists of those who are leaving, but my last name does not sound on this list! Why? Seeing my intransigence, the commander disabled the tear-filled guy, and I took his place. So I became the deputy commander of a platoon leaving for the war.

First Impressions

The next day, as part of the battalion, they flew to Mozdok, unloaded on the take-off. Cold, mud, crowds of armed people scurry back and forth. Seeing musician Yuri Shevchuk among the soldiers, he made his way to him and asked for an autograph. He did not refuse and signed on the top deck of my guitar. We even sang a couple of verses from "Last Autumn" with him.

Having moved to the field next to the take-off, we spent the night. And in the morning, look - our battalion is gone! And we, 22 fighters in body armor and helmets, with weapons and equipment, were left alone, without officers. Wanted by no one, wanted by no one!

After three days without hot food and water, having managed to chew dry rations and burn all gas masks, overcoats and felt boots, they got hold of cartridges and grenades. We just got into some kind of ammo-receiving formation and received half a cap of ammo! They didn’t ask us for our last names, they didn’t force us to sign anywhere. And we dragged two boxes of grenades at night from an unguarded caponier stuffed to the brim with this stuff.

One day we met a colonel who stopped us with a menacing voice: “Who are these? What herd? I introduced myself and explained. The colonel ordered us to follow him and led us to the bathhouse. After washing, he sent us to the dining room. Clean and well-fed, we boarded the bus and went with the colonel, as it turned out later, to the city of Prokhladny, to the 135th motorized rifle brigade.

In the brigade, we were fed, changed, re-equipped, and a day later we were sent in a column to Chechnya. We didn't drive long, often avoiding public roads and leaving a few broken cars along the way. Here are the artillery positions… Howitzers and self-propelled guns are deafeningly hitting where our column is crawling, drowning in mud.

Jumping off the Ural to the ground, I slipped. Taking a stable position, I realized that I was standing on a corpse, rolled out in a road rut. Helping the others out of the car, he warned them to be careful. A mutilated corpse - that's what we saw in Chechnya in the first place.
The task assigned to our division led us to the central market of Grozny. The trucks crowded tightly into the courtyard adjoining the market building, and while we unloaded dry rations, duffel bags and sleeping bags from them, they despondently waited for their sad fate.

Some man running past, hung with “Flies”, grenades, knives and pistols, nervously adjusting the sawn-off shotgun dangling on his hip, attacked me: “You ... on ... why did you drive the equipment on ... here, your mother on ...? She will be burned all over."

Our only armored personnel carrier, it turns out, was burned on the way. Having finished unloading and leaving Mikola Pitersky to guard the dry rations, I went to reconnoitre the market building. The personnel were dying of thirst, and I discovered deposits of cans of compote! Mines, occasionally penetrating the roof, no longer frightened, but my heart was restless.

And then it began! One of the first mines flew into the dry rations, burying Mikola Pitersky in them! Dug up. Alive! Our Urals, meanwhile, were already on fire! Too bad the guitar burned out in the cockpit. Someone's cry: "They knocked out a tank!" We run to watch. Carefully look out the windows. Here he is! Very near! Lit. And suddenly a deafening shot! The shell hits the five-story building. They say that paratroopers stormed it at that time. Then - as in a dream. Explosion! We are thrown to broken glass! When the dust settled, we saw that the tank was gone. Everlasting memory…

After sitting in the market building for a day, we finally received the task of capturing a high-rise building along Karl Liebknecht Street, adjacent to a small market square.

Our new platoon leader described the task to us in a very lucid way: “Run fast without tripping over corpses. Stop is death! Let's run into the house - we'll figure it out!

Let's run. The first of the three nine-story buildings was already occupied by paratroopers, and we got the second one without a fight. No tenants, no militants, empty.

My platoon was instructed to gain a foothold on the sixth floor and prevent the enemy from entering the house through the roof of the neighboring five-story building.
The apartment, whose windows overlooked the roof of this five-story building, was impressive, it was a very rich apartment.

We emptied the refrigerator and laid a makeshift table in the hallway, but did not have time to raise it for the recent New Year and open jars of condensed milk for housewarming, as if something serious had got into the house. The building shook and a fire started. The fire spread so quickly that we barely jumped out of the apartments into the entrance when they burned to the ground, and while the apartments were burning, we sat on the flights of stairs, choking in smoke, because there was death on the street. There were "spirits" in the third nine-story building.

Sausage

The next day, the commander set the task: “In connection with the destruction of the entire food supply of the battalion by the enemy, it is necessary to break through to the market with the help of four volunteers and a miraculously surviving infantry fighting vehicle of unknown origin. Find it there and then take it out maximum amount food!"

I was the main volunteer. I decided to involve my squad commanders in this task. Good guys. Reliable. They went down, found in the ruins of the BMP house and even its driver. There was no one else in the crew, and the guy had no idea where his unit was located. After listening to the task, the mechanic nodded: “We will do it, but ... the car does not turn left. Tractions are broken! Let's waltz! Well, turn left, spinning 270 degrees to the right!

Loaded into the landing and rushed. First turn to the left… spinning… scary. Forward! The second turn is spinning. There is no light in the car, we don’t know how to open hatches from the inside, if anything, horror! And now, through the roar and clang of trucks, bullets pounded on the armor! And suddenly a blow! Crashed! "Everybody is alive? We've arrived! - the mechanic shouted. As it turned out, he rode all the way in the “stowed” position! Under bullets! Well gives! And he told me: “What? The triplexes are broken, not a damn thing is visible! Hero man!

We ran through the market. Empty, our troops have gone somewhere, and what to expect is unknown. The products were found quickly. Sausage! There were many. Having stuffed the mouths of Krakow and throwing machine guns behind their backs, they quickly loaded the airborne compartments of the BMP and their own duffel bags and pockets with sausage. Childish greed played a cruel joke on me. Realizing that there was not enough food for the battalion, I decided to leave my guys at the market and, climbing into the turret of the car, personally deliver the cargo and return for the second batch. "Go!" I yelled at the mechanic as soon as I reached the hatch. And he went. Surely so, with afterburner! And he did not know, did not know that behind his back I, in a bulletproof vest stuffed with sausage and with a plump duffel bag, was trying to get into the tower. By the time we got to the treasured house, I didn’t have a single whole store left! And I threw empty ones on the armor.
Having made three raids in a row, we completed the task. Thank you bro mechanic!

Storm

On Friday, January 13, my platoon received an order to occupy one of the houses on Rue Rosa Luxembourg. He stood facing presidential palace, and attempts to capture it have so far been unsuccessful. The paratroopers who held out to the last were squeezed in his basement, and the "spirits" were in charge in the house.
They ran to our house through a wasteland between five-story buildings, came under fire. There was nowhere to hide, except behind the burnt BMP. The whole platoon was packed for her, it's scary to go further. But it is necessary, otherwise they will put everyone from the flank. They rushed to a brick booth, such a thermal center with pipes and valves, took cover behind the wall.

We sat behind the booth for more than an hour, waiting for the Shilka. She was supposed to cover us by shooting at the windows of the palace. And we had to run right under the barrage of her fire! Before our eyes, three fighters from another unit jumped out from somewhere and rushed headlong to our house! To our porch! One of them fell a meter from the door, shot by a sniper, and two jumped inside. One threw a rope from the entrance door to the wounded man, but he could not cling to it, the bullets hit him one after another. The second fighter fired with the fighters inside the house.

Suddenly, twenty meters away from us, with a characteristic whistle, a mine arrives and explodes! One of our shrapnel hit the leg. Well, I think, bandaging the wounded, it began! He suggested to the commander to place a platoon inside the house: “Probably, the “spirits” are correcting the fire of their mortar at this moment!” The platoon commander voiced the proposal to the battalion commander. The answer is bright: “No, wait, now there will be a team! Better check this house for a sniper. I got it, sir!”

Well, they broke up into three groups, three people each, ran around the house from the opposite side and jumped into the windows. Purely. When they returned, they heard two strong explosions in a row on the second floor. Approximately where we had just left our platoon. Throw down! And there ... Blood, smoke, groans! Squad leader Dan Zolotykh and his troika finished the inspection of his entrance before us, got out, and he was covered - he was lying in blood! The commander, Stas Golda, is wounded. Later, doctors counted eighteen shrapnel wounds on his body, and the Motherland awarded him the Order of Courage.

Where is the signalman, is the station alive? Our P-159 on Mikola Pitersky's chest took on several fragments, but it worked properly! "Freza," I shout. - "Freza-12", I have "200" and "300", I specify the number, and the commander is wounded! Please help me evacuate!" And the battalion commander calmly replies that the command was given for the assault and that I gather the healthy ones and complete the task. And he promises to evacuate the wounded, without even asking how many there are. The platoon is consolidated, who was assigned and from where - it is not known, addresses were not exchanged with everyone, we do not know the names of many. This is how they fought for their country.

Indeed, to the left of us, the Shilka went on direct fire and roared with fire. I had no choice but to send "Freza" to hell and start helping the bleeding guys. I still managed to get them evacuated. And we completed the task. Blood and sweat. So I became a platoon leader. Platoon of nine. Minus thirteen!

Then everything went easy. Ready, Freza-12? Ready, I answer! "Forward!" - a cry from the radio. And what is it like to storm a house with nine men, without cover with smoke, without understanding where are your own and where are strangers? Now all this is remembered, like a bad dream or stills from a movie. Covered in blood, black with dirt and soot, behind his back seven machine guns left over from the evacuated guys, in the hands of the PKM, from forty meters, shredding the house, to which my guys are running! Tactics? What the hell is a tactic? We ran to the fifth floor, throwing grenades at the doors on the move and sometimes shooting. entrenched. Counted. All.

Later, when it was necessary to pull the main forces on ourselves, we cleared all the apartments in our entrance from top to bottom. Walking down the street at that time was in bad taste, so the main forces pulled up to us through the wall, in which we punched a hole with a grenade launcher, some mother and who knows where from a sledgehammer!

It was in this house, having “borrowed” his SVD from a friend of Sashka Lyutin, on the butt of which there were already three cuts with a bayonet-knife, I became a sniper. Equipped a wonderful, tactically competent position. I settled down in the bath, on a stool. For emphasis - a pre-empty refrigerator. From there, through a small hole in the wall pierced by a shell, they shot through an impressive section of the area in front of the house, namely, an extension to the presidential palace and part of the palace itself.

Once, marines ran into our house: two officers and a sailor. The sailor, as it turned out, was a real one, from a warship! Maybe that's why he almost shot me when I changed position. But the Marines impressed me differently. Hunting for live! One, standing in the window opening, began to fan the palace with tracers, and the second, in the back of the room, having prepared an RPG-18 for battle, was waiting. As an artilleryman, I understood that the guys were walking on a razor's edge, but they were stubbornly lucky. The bite on the live bait was excellent, and soon I joined this "fishing artel", and the sailor made sure that none of the fighters went out to my bullet, moving around the apartment.

Combat Commonwealth

There was a day when the company commander gave me the task of taking three volunteers and with them to find and evacuate from the rubble of the street the bodies of two dead - Sergei Les and Dima Strukov from the third platoon. They died a few days ago. Attempts to find them have already been made by the foreman of the company, ensign Purtov. Then the “spirits” squeezed him and the fighters behind a pilaster (this is such a ledge from a house the size of two bricks) and began to methodically destroy the shelter, firing incredibly dense fire at it from the house, which we then occupied with a platoon. Together with my countryman Pomor, we pulled them out, covering the retreat with our fire. I will never forget how ensign Purtov, making a dash, stumbles, falls, and in the place where he had just been, an automatic burst bites into a brick ...

In general, the task is clear. I am a machine gun on my shoulder, a helmet on my head. I suggest one fighter go, the second, the third, and they - some with a stomach, some with a sudden headache, some from the post. They do not want to take risks, even crack. But when the search for volunteers reached the guys from Dagestan, they, without further ado: helmet on a hat and went, commander! But they did not know the dead, for whom we had to go! And with this composition, I, two Dagestanis and a Kazakh went on a search.

We quickly found Sergei's body, carried it to the same booth, and then - stop. The fire is so dense that it becomes clear that in the light of day we will not pass. Even zadymy this damn area. Tried. They managed to return to the house only in the morning, leaving Sergei in place, but placing the body so that it could be seen from our windows. They were able to pick up and transfer the body to the rear not earlier than a few days later, when the militants left the palace without a fight.

Somehow, in the midst of fighting in our area, the battalion commander needed to go to the rear, and he took me with him to guard. The rear units were then in the park named after Lenin. I, left to myself for a while, wandered around the park, wondering how they live here, in tents? What if it's a mine? And suddenly something seemed strange to me. Everywhere, wherever I passed, everyone froze, abandoned the harvesting of firewood, cleaning, and silently looked at me. And there was some reverence in those views, respect interspersed with compassion. "Look, look, with the advanced guy!" - I heard and, as if waking up, looked around. Then invitations for heating in the tents rained down, questions, congratulations on being alive! "What's the matter?" I ask. “How do you know I’m from the front lines?” "Did you see yourself in the mirror?" one asks. "Of course not! Where are the mirrors in the city? Everything is burned and destroyed!” - I laugh. “Here, look! People like you are only brought to us dead!” - Embarrassed, the fighter handed me a mirror. Well, I took a look. I looked and got scared. A monster in a dirty, torn black cap with a black, sooty face, burnt stubble and eyebrows, and red watery eyes was looking at me from the mirror.

A little later, when the fighting for the city moved to other quarters, we decided to visit the less damaged entrances of our house. Find something like mattresses. My platoon was transported to burned-out apartments, and for the last week I slept on two boxes of VOGs, without a sleeping bag, of course. Having collected junk, on the way back to our "temple" we saw an interesting picture: Dudayev's palace was famously stormed by guys in white camouflage robes and in hitherto unseen unloading. Special Forces, not otherwise, I thought evilly, a couple of days ago you would have come here!

A decade and a half later, celebrating the 30th anniversary of the 901 Special Operations Special Forces with fellow soldiers, we were watching the Chechen chronicle, when suddenly ... The end of our house and the hole pierced by a shell through which I once fired my first shot from the SVD flashed in the frame. So those guys in camouflage turned out to be my current friends! It's a small world!

Then our war began to decline. For a month we were in the village of Andreevskaya Dolina at the Central Bank of Ukraine, then in Shali. In May, when the war went to the mountainous regions, our battalion, which had lost more than half of its personnel, was taken to Khankala for rest and resupply.

At a shooting range in a quarry, I met fellow countryman Dima Koksharov. We got talking. He served in the 45th airborne regiment. And the stern guys who descended on ropes down into the quarry and performed tactical exercises that were incomprehensible to me at that time with “screw cutters” unprecedented in the infantry turned out to be his colleagues. Cool scouts, I thought, where can I go before them!

New life

In September the war ended for us. The battalion departed in a column to the point of permanent deployment in Prokhladny. I rode on the armor of the closing infantry fighting vehicle, and all the way behind us a broom tied to the armor was dragged, never to return here. Sign!

Retired to the reserve. He came to his parents in the Smolensk region. And there is darkness! A depressing impression of a dying village. Unemployment, alcoholism, drug addiction. The youth engaged in stupid self-liquidation.

The only right decision was to return to the army, and seriously and for a long time. The commander of the 45th OPSPN, Colonel Viktor Kolygin, to whom I came for an attitude in 1996, told me: “We don’t take a contract from a citizen, sign up for the Tula division, and from there we will transfer.”

In the 173rd separate reconnaissance company in Tula, I heard something similar: "Let's go to the regimental reconnaissance company first, and then we'll see." So, as a reconnaissance officer of the reconnaissance company of the 51st Airborne Regiment, I began my combat path in the Airborne Forces.

For a year of service, I managed to go on a three-month business trip to Abkhazia. For several years in Gudauta, paratroopers carried out peacekeeping mission, and I made a small contribution to the restoration of peace on the southeastern coast of the Black Sea.

After Abkhazia, Major Sergei Konchakovsky, Assistant Chief of Intelligence of the division, paid close attention to me. He asked provocative questions, followed my answers and actions. Soon Konchakovsky suggested that I go to Sokolniki and talk with the commander special detachment 45th regiment, where I left, having secured the necessary recommendations.

Special Squad

Service in a new place captivated and absorbed with his head. I liked everything: people, equipment, weapons, equipment, approach to conducting training sessions.
When I arrived in Tula for the weekend with a whole backpack of spetsnaz bells and whistles and in a fashionable padding polyester, I told the officers about everything I had seen and learned during my month of service in special intelligence, most of them fired up to transfer there. Which they soon did.

the appearance of my call sign - Leshy - is very funny. The commander of the reconnaissance group, Captain Stanislav Konoplyannikov, having built us, young scouts, ordered us to come up with call signs. I came up with "Leshy", but did not voice it, afraid to get into an awkward situation, suspecting that such a call sign already exists in the regiment. And when the commander, bypassing the formation and writing down invented call signs, stopped in front of me, I told him: “I didn’t think of it, Comrade Captain.” To which he replied: “Well, then you will be Leshim!” Since then, since 1998, I have been Leshy.

In September 1999, they flew to Dagestan, in the heat of a flaring war. They performed various tasks of reconnaissance, search and destruction of militant bases. In October, working in the interests of the 61st separate Kirkenes Red Banner Brigade marines of the Northern Fleet, were the first to reach the Terek.

October 14, having completed the task of conducting optical reconnaissance locality S., our group advanced to the evacuation area. Went with great care. It always seemed that something was wrong on the left of the course, as if someone was looking at us.

And here is the armor! It became calmer. Suddenly the radio station comes to life. An order follows, which radically changed our plans, and many fates. We had to inspect the forester's house, which was nearby, but in the opposite direction.

Two of our armored personnel carriers (group commander Pavel Klyuev rode in the first eldest, V. on the second) went along a narrow road along the Terek. The bank of the river is low, the places are overgrown, wild, beautiful. To the right of the road there are four-meter reeds, to the left - a turn and thick green grass on a one and a half meter artificial shaft.

At the entrance to the right turn, in front of a huge puddle, the car slowed down, and something made me turn back. It seemed that with my peripheral vision I caught something similar to a grenade launcher target. Three seconds passed before I realized - this is really a grenade launcher! Bearded, disguised with branches, he prepared to shoot from his knee, and it seemed that he was aiming straight at my forehead from some fifteen meters! I did not want to allow this in any way, therefore, with a cry: “There he is, ...!”, I turned the SVD in his direction. My next cry: “Attention! Left”, drowned in the roar of the shot and the explosion that killed the armored personnel carrier. How we ended up behind the armor, I don’t remember, apparently, persistent tactical training had an effect. Overpressure in the engine compartment vomited and raised the power hatches. I think this saved the lives of many of our group, because at least a dozen militants were shooting point-blank at our lifeless car from a roadside rampart, while their grenade launcher was preparing for the second shot. Having landed around the store, the machine gunners lay down to reload, and the grenade launcher again planted a "flea" in the stern of our car. And again lead downpour! And so three times in a row. And all three times the grenade launcher hollowed into the stern.

Hiding under the nose of the "box" with a rifle useless at a distance of 10-15 meters, I had no idea what was happening with the group. Are the boys alive? Near Novosel. And the rest? Abrek crawled up to us from the side of the road and gestured upwards to the armor, and there was Klyuev. He lay, collapsed on the bleeding Igor Salnikov - Gosha. Believing that we would save them, Abrek and I carefully pulled them off the armor. Gosha's head was pierced, but the signs of life gave us hope. I tried to find signs of life in the group commander, but, alas. "How is Pasha?" - asked Abrek, bandaging Gosha. "No more Pasha!" I answered, dropping the useless bandage. Gosha died a few days later, already in the hospital. On the day when Pasha was buried.

The "spirits" themselves suggested how to deal with their attack, starting to throw grenades at us. Abrek stayed with Gosha and Pasha, and I returned to Novosel under the nose of an armored personnel carrier, when suddenly an F-1 flies out from behind the shaft and falls on the road five to seven meters away from us! They were endless seconds, like in slow motion. I shout: "New settler, grenade!" "What grenade?" he rolls his eyes. "In my opinion, efka!" - and I fall between Pasha and Gosha, covering my head with my hands. I stretch my tightly clenched legs to the center of the explosion and wait - where will the fragment fly to me? Explosion. It's gone! And a confident dash back to where the damn grenade had just exploded.

We fall, take out all our grenades from the unloading and calmly, methodically, with the shooting of the checks, confidently transfer them to the other side of the shaft! How do you like that, fighters?

Helped! Novosel guessed to get into the armored personnel carrier and, using a mechanical descent, empty the PKT box. There was a turning point in the combat situation, the shooting subsided for a while, the groans of the wounded and the crackling of branches began to be heard. Vetok! So, the militants were preparing to evacuate. Then a second armored personnel carrier rolled up, for some reason it lagged behind, and its appearance forced the militants to accelerate their retreat, covering it with active fire. So dense that two of our machine gunners, who climbed onto the rampart, had to leave their positions and slide down to the road. Then again, as in slow motion of a movie action movie: V. rises to the shaft in full growth, raises his AKMS with a drum for 75 rounds, branches beveled by enemy bullets fall nearby, and he, as if spellbound, shoots at greenery until the drum jams. Bark and pieces of foliage fly into his face, but he shoots without bending down!

V. is a man of unparalleled courage, will and uncompromisingness. A real Russian officer. I am glad that his numerous exploits were noticed, and by the Decree of the President of Russia he was awarded the title of Hero of Russia. After few years.

The fight is quiet. "Who?" V. briefly asked. “Pasha, Gosha,” Novosel and I answered. They also brought Vitya Nikolsky, a bullet pierced his thigh right through. We approached the guys lying on the ground. I squeezed the wrist of the group commander in my hand, hoping to feel the pulse, and suddenly: there is! I shout: “Comrade Major! There is a pulse." V. touched Pasha's neck and silently shook his head. It turns out that from excitement I squeezed my hand too hard and felt my pulse.

An infantry fighting vehicle with scouts from the Stavropol regiment flew up to the battlefield. Dismounting, they took up defensive positions around us, moving their heads in disbelief in search of the enemy. Tired, probably, the whole day we were evacuated, evacuated, all the same. Then our second armored personnel carrier turned around and began to back out in order to take a wrecked colleague onto a trailer and drag him to the regiment's location. The wheel of an armored personnel carrier drove into a puddle on the side of the road. There is a mine. A knock, a powerful explosion, and a multi-ton machine jumped up. Everyone was thrown by the blast wave in different directions!

For a moment, silence, I am lying in the middle of the road, looking in surprise at the black rubber snow - this wheel of an armored personnel carrier, split by a mine explosion into rubbish, slowly and sadly waltzed small black snowflakes to the ground, settling on the faces of living and dead scouts. Thank you, I think, brother-driver of the first armor, you listened to our advice not to run into puddles. If we had run into this mine first, no one would have survived.

As soon as hearing returned, through the ringing in my ears I heard a painful moan. Minenkov from Stavropol was lying on the rampart. The leg was torn off, but he himself is conscious, he even tries to apply a tourniquet. "How is your leg?" - asks. "It's all right, you'll be walking!" - I answer, and I imperceptibly move the torn off leg, which lies next to his head, down. The blood was stopped, the man was saved.

I will add that by decree of the Acting President of Russia dated January 17, 2000, Mikhail Minenkov was awarded the title of Hero of Russia.

Having removed the machine guns from the broken armored personnel carriers and shot the on-board radio stations, we decided to blow up the vehicles. We didn’t have the opportunity to pull them out that day, and we shouldn’t leave them to the militants. I was preparing our car to be blown up, and tears flowed from my eyes. From that moment began my other, adulthood. Life in the special forces of the Airborne Forces.

The group that carried out the inspection of the clash area and the evacuation of the armor found several more mines and land mines planted on the road. Apparently, the militants were preparing a powerful ambush, and we were not their target at all. It is very likely that that battle prevented a great tragedy, since a column of one of the parachute regiments was expected to pass along this road.

Well, we, a handful of intelligence officers who remained relatively unharmed, shell-shocked and tired, with stern, gloomy faces, appeared before the formidable eye of Major General Popov, who personally met at the side of the helicopter that delivered us to the CBU. His welcome speech shocked the guys: “So, fighters, of course, I understand everything, war is coming, but the uniform must be observed! Where are your caps, fellow scouts?”

A few days later we gathered in our tent to commemorate our fallen friends. We were just informed that Gosha had died in the hospital. When the third toast was raised in memory of the dead brothers, the deputy commander of the 218th special forces battalion, Major Pyotr Yatsenko, picked up a guitar and put a sheet of text in front of him, sang his new song about our group. As he sang, it felt like we were reliving that short but brutal fight again. Many furtively, turning away, wiped a stingy male tear.

Pyotr Karlovich was sitting right in front of me, and when the song ended and everyone came to their senses, I asked him for a piece of paper with the text to copy it into my notebook. I never had a chance to return Yatsenko's paper. On the next task, which we took on in two groups, Petr Karlovich, commanding a special-purpose reconnaissance group, died a heroic death in battle with superior enemy forces. By decree of the President of Russia dated March 24, 2000, Petr Yatsenko was awarded the title of Hero of Russia (posthumously).

The leaflet with the song is now stored in the Museum of Military Glory of the OOSN 45 OPSpN Airborne Forces.

"Spetsnaz chuyka"

There were many interesting tasks. In November we go out to ambush. Two groups. Our guide. Two nights. Charged, checked the connection, jumped. Team: "Patrol, forward!" We moved. With the first step, fear fades into the background, giving way to attention and caution, cold calculation and lightning-fast reaction. But the fear does not disappear completely. Who said that the scout is not afraid of anything? Lies! How scary too! But a real scout knows how to manage his fear, directing it in the right direction so that fear becomes caution. Let's go. As before, all five senses are clenched into a fist and work to the limit. But for some reason, it was on this task that another, sixth sense was added to them - the so-called "special forces chuyka." This is when you go to a task and know in advance that something will happen, and sometimes you even understand at what moment. So it is this time.

Stumbling at every step, I walk and try to remain calm. Who walked at night on a mowed corn field, he will understand me. It is only six hundred meters to the edge of the forest covering the ridge through which we have to cross, but what meters were those?! We walked them for four hours! The feeling that someone is watching us did not leave me for a minute! And then I heard two blows metal object along a gas pipe that runs parallel to our route on the left, below. Stop! Attention!" I report on the strikes to the commander. He didn't hear any knocking. "Forward!" We didn’t have time to move, as again: “bammm-bammm” ...

Hurry to save the forest! Having dissolved in brilliant green, they got in touch, took a breath, and again: “Head patrol - forward!” The commander stubbornly did not want to go along the night road, preferring rough terrain, namely, dense thickets of thorny acacia, through which two reconnaissance groups with artillery gunners and radio operators attached from the Marine Corps and dressed in shaggy Leshy suits made their way with a deafening crash! But time was running out, and I still managed to convince the commander to go along the road!

Quickly, without unnecessary noise and adventures, they went to the right edge and dispersed to their areas to organize ambushes. The main object of our attention was the primer about forty meters from the edge. It was on it that Mole installed the MON-50 mine. But for some reason, on this day, the “spirits” categorically did not want to use the roads and tactically competently went along the edge, almost stepping on the trunk of my VSS! Communicating enthusiastically, one pair of militants with machine guns at the ready passed over me, with an interval of fifty meters - the second. I managed to notice in the bag of one of them something round, resembling an anti-tank mine.

Where is the team to work out the enemy? When the "spirits" walked over me, I covered the radio station with my hand and felt that something was being said into it, but what? Having given the bandits a couple more minutes of life, we let them through to the ambush of another group. Of course, having warned the brothers that guests were hurrying to them.

What if it's just a gang banger? What to do? Reflections were interrupted by fierce shooting in the area of ​​the second ambush! Work has gone! Left engine hum! A handsome cherry Grand Cherokee drove into the sector of destruction of our mine! In the sight, I clearly saw a healthy bearded uncle. Clutching the machine gun in his hand, he concentratedly looked ahead. Explosion! The jeep was covered with a cloud of dust mixed with smoke, from which the car never left. The veil lifted, and my gaze fixed on the target. Well, I think you arrived, Mr. Basayev, I shoot at the doors, I hear the sound of crumbling glass.

Looking to the right, to find out how our people were, I saw that the group had begun to withdraw. How? For what? After all, in the car ... One could only guess what and who could be found during the inspection of the jeep. But a retreat is a retreat. I give a command to the observers on the left and retreat to the last. Preliminary collection point - 200 meters to the rear. In front of me is Lekha the radio operator. The star is his call sign. Zvezda is running, adjusting her backpack with a radio station on one shoulder. Unexpectedly, well, very unexpectedly for us, RMB started working on the left side of the group! I got ready for battle, the Star to the right broke through the thorns, got stuck. The bushes have already begun to crumble under a hail of bullets! Drop that damn backpack, friend! Threw. Gone. God bless!

Somehow gathered at the collection point. We count. All? There is no one - Sentry. We call on the station - clicks in response. Clearly, it works only at the reception, the village food. Oriented. I was sent to meet him! I meet. I look - running, but not alone! Behind some villain with a machine gun was attached, and does not lag behind! Well, I think they decided to capture our Olezhka alive? We will not allow this! I take the villain at gunpoint, let me get closer, take out the idle. Stop! Yes, this is ours, Ryazan! Hey commander! Now it's all in the right place.

"Star, let's get in touch!" the commander growls. “Yes, what a Star I am now, we no longer have a station,” the radio operator replies dejectedly. We recall the radio operator of the Marine artillery gunner. Immediately before the task, I reinforced 300 grams of PVV-5 explosive with a ZTP-50 fuse on his Historik radio station and instructed: “In the event of a threat of the station falling into the hands of the enemy, you transfer the igniter cap to the firing position and pull out the ring, understand?” He got it, yeah! With the very first shot, the boy thought that all the Basmachi from the surrounding villages rushed to the attack in order to take over his radio station, and bravely blew it up as he retreated! Affairs!

Having entered the evacuation area, somehow the radio stations intended for work within the group called for armor, and in order to increase the communication range, the radio operator had to climb into tall tree! And laughter and sin. The evacuation was beautiful. With dashes and indispensable smoke. And the commander of the second group, as it turned out, was a very lazy person! Or very smart. He did not go to the evacuation area on foot, but flew into it in a comfortable Mi-8 helicopter! It's more convenient, he explained, supervising the unloading of trophies and their former owners from the board. By the way, that round one in a bag, resembling an anti-tank mine, turned out to be quite tasty lavash.

But the task didn't end there. The intelligence chief of the group, who arrived on a turntable, ordered the group to fly out with him and show the jeep destroyed in the battle. Eat. Flying over the ambush site, we find that the cars and the trail are cold! We clearly see the angle of attack of our mine plowed by the explosion and that's it! It turns out that the "spirits" dragged the car into the forest and carefully disguised it with branches. But we found! During the inspection of the jeep, I worked in tandem with Anatoly Lebed, a legendary scout, the future Hero of Russia, who absurdly died in 2012 in an accident. The commanders were satisfied with the results of the inspection: documents, radio stations, weapons and equipment. Listening to the broadcast helped us uncover ninety-two correspondents working in our intelligence area, and the identity of a field commander who was killed in battle. About this ambush in 1999, a short news item was written by the magazine “Brother”: “November. As a result of search and ambush actions, the closest associate of Salman Raduev with a call sign was destroyed by the 45th separate regiment of the special forces of the Airborne Forces ... "

The joy of victory and the pain of defeat

I remember the death of the signalman of the detachment of senior warrant officer Alexei Ryabkov.

We went to work near Kharachoy, in the Vedeno district, in two groups. One on turntables was thrown far into the mountains, the second on the BMD rolled towards the paratroopers who had completed their task, providing them with an exit from the operation area.

Ryabkov was in the group on the armor. The road serpentine stretched along the mountain slopes. There was no more than five minutes left before the checkpoint when they stumbled upon an ambush of militants. The explosion behind the head car of the column thundered suddenly, followed by bursts of automatic and machine-gun bursts. A bullet hit Alexei in the neck. He managed to release the entire magazine from the machine before he fell, whispering that he was wounded.

The fight was short. BMD guns deployed in the direction of the attackers fired a volley. Soldiers' machine guns chirped. "Spirits" hurried to retire.
In the Vedeno region, our special detachment gave good results in 2002 and 2005. We blew up several residential bases and destroyed militants of different hierarchies. Previous experience, knowledge of the geography of the trails and the psychology of the enemy's behavior helped.

Once my non-standard appearance was successfully used by security officers. I, shaved bald, but with a solid beard, looked like a Chechen, and the employees of group "A" of the Central Security Service of the FSB of Russia, dressing me in civilian clothes appropriate for the place and hanging a pendant with the image of a mosque around my neck, let me out into the street to monitor the house in a private sector. The information given by me was used by the Chekists for its intended purpose - the leader of the local bandit underground was neutralized.

Creation

In 2005, immediately after returning from a business trip, I received injuries incompatible with service in the special forces, and in 2007, after completing a course of treatment, I retired from the reserve. And now, not being able to make parachute jumps, go on missions as part of a reconnaissance group, all that remains for me is to write, sing, talk about special forces to the younger generation and cooperate with military-patriotic clubs.

He wrote his first poems in Chechnya back in 2004. Somehow, in the summer of 2005, my good friend, singer-songwriter Vitaly Leonov, was carried by a fair wind to us in Khatuni with a concert. The joy of the meeting knew no bounds! For his residence, of course, the tent of our reconnaissance group was chosen. Leafing through my notebook, Vitaly shared his thoughts that good songs could come out of my poems. In the vicinity of the New Khatuni airport, Vitalya gave several concerts for the fighters and even sang for the reconnaissance groups departing on the night of the task. He had plenty of impressions from the trip, and soon after returning from the Caucasus, Vitaly came up with a wonderful song about intelligence with the same name. I, having heard my poems that became a song, thought: “Why not?” - and decided to try his hand at creativity.

I sincerely consider 10 years of service in the special forces of the Airborne Forces to be the best years of my life. The video for the song about the 45th Special Forces Regiment of the Airborne Forces was filmed by my friend Igor Chernyshev, a former intelligence officer of the Special Forces Special Forces. Many years ago, when it was time for Igor to leave the service, it was from him that I adopted the good old Vintorez. Now Igor is not only a wonderful cameraman and director, but also talented actor theater and cinema.

I am very glad that my songs instilled in the hearts of the listeners the love for the army and the desire to serve the Fatherland in the special forces of the Airborne Forces and other units and divisions of the Armed Forces. Remember, friends, it's not you who give years of your life to the army! This army gives you years that make you real men!

Hi all! Today we will touch on such a topic as military service under contract in the Airborne Forces of Russia. Namely, we will consider such issues as vacancies under a contract in the Airborne Forces in 2019, those who serve under a contract in the airborne troops, as well as the conditions for serving under a contract in the Airborne Forces for military personnel and their families. A separate place in our article will be occupied by the Airborne Forces.

Contract service in the Airborne Forces regiments, divisions, military units, brigades

Contract service in the Airborne Forces is a job for real men!

At the moment, the structural strength includes four full-fledged divisions, as well as separate regiments, airborne and airborne assault brigades.

For those who nevertheless decided to link their lives, or at least part of it, with service in the Airborne Forces, I highly recommend studying the composition of the Airborne Forces and the locations of units and airborne units Russia.

So, according to official information from the website of the Ministry of Defense of the Russian Federation mil.ru The Airborne Forces consists of:

• 76th Guards Air Assault Division, Pskov location:

1. military unit 32515 104th Guards Air Assault Regiment
2. military unit 74268 234th Guards Air Assault Regiment
3. military unit 45377 1140 artillery regiment and others

• military unit 65451 98th Guards Airborne Division, located in Ivanovo:

1. military unit 62295 217 Guards Airborne Regiment
2. military unit 71211 331st Guards Airborne Regiment (located in Kostroma)
3. military unit 62297 1065th Red Banner Guards Artillery Regiment (located in Kostroma)
4. military unit 65391 215th separate guards reconnaissance company and others

• 7th Guards Air Assault (Mountain) Division, location - Novorossiysk:

1. military unit 42091 108 air assault regiment
2. military unit 54801 247 air assault regiment (location Stavropol)
3. military unit 40515 1141 artillery regiment (location of Anapa) and others

• 106th Guards Airborne Division - Tula:

1. military unit 41450 137 parachute regiment
2. military unit 33842 51 parachute regiment
3. military unit 93723 1182 artillery regiment (location Naro-Fominsk) and others

Regiments and brigades of the Airborne Forces:

• military unit 32364 11th separate guards airborne brigade, location - the city of Ulan-Ude
• military unit 28337 45th Separate Guards Special Purpose Brigade - Moscow
• 56th separate guards air assault brigade. Place of deployment - the city of Kamyshin
• military unit 73612 31st Separate Guards Air Assault Brigade. Located in Ulyanovsk
• military unit 71289 83rd Separate Guards Airborne Brigade. Location - Ussuriysk
• military unit 54164 38th separate guards regiment airborne communications. Located in the Moscow region, in the village of Medvezhye Ozera

Cuban contract service in the special forces of the Airborne Forces in the 45th special forces brigade

Let's start with the brigade, which, apparently, seeks every second candidate. Namely, in the 45th brigade (regiment) of the Airborne Forces. In order not to repeat, I will immediately give a link to the material, where we have already told everything about this military unit in the article

Contract service in the Tula Airborne Forces

For many, the contract in the Airborne Forces has become a good springboard and a good lesson in life.

The next most popular is the 106th Guards Airborne Division, which is located in the hero city of Tula. Full name 106th Guards Airborne Tula Red Banner Order of Kutuzov Division.

The division has the following units:

• parachute regiments
• communications department,
• material support unit (MTO),
• medical team,
• engineering division

Accordingly, for contract service in the 106th Airborne Division, there are quite a lot.

Contract servicemen serving on a contract basis in the Airborne Forces in the city of Tula during their service live in separate living quarters (cubes) for 4-6 soldiers. Those who do not want to live on the territory of the unit, as well as family soldiers, have the right to rent housing in the city itself. In this case, they are paid financial compensation for housing rent.

Also, each soldier can use to solve their housing problems.

Since the unit is located in the city itself, there are no problems for the employment of members of the families of military personnel here.

Contract service Airborne Forces Ryazan

Those who wish to serve in the Airborne Forces in Ryazan should contact the 137th Airborne Regiment of military unit 41450 Regiment address: Ryazan - 7 Oktyabrsky Gorodok

The conditions for entering the contract in the Airborne Regiment are the same as for other candidates for the contract.

In 137 RAPs, in addition to regular units, for example, RAPs, there are:

• special center,
• airborne training ground

Military unit 41450 has a club, a library, a museum of military glory, a stadium and a sports hall.

A garrison military hospital operates on the territory of the Ryazan garrison.

There are also no problems for the employment of family members of contract servicemen. The military unit is located within the city limits. Accordingly, the state is carried out in full.

Contract service Pskov VDV

The next place for future contractors to serve is the oldest formation of the Airborne Forces, namely the 76th Guards Airborne Assault Division, located in the city of military glory Pskov.

As part of the 76 Guards. DShD has the following divisions:

• three air assault regiments
• Guards Anti-Aircraft Missile Regiment
• separate reconnaissance battalion
• separate communications battalion
• repair and restoration battalion and others

The conditions of service and life of military personnel under the contract are the same as in other military units of the Airborne Forces

Contract service Airborne Forces Ulyanovsk

For those who have chosen to serve in the Airborne Forces and also live or are ready to move to the city of Ulyanovsk, they are lucky, because the 31st Separate Guards Airborne Assault Brigade (31 ODSHBr) is located here, military unit 73612 address Ulyanovsk, 3rd Engineering travel

The 31 Airborne Brigade includes:

• paratrooper and air assault battalions
• artillery battalion
• engineering sapper company

Since 2005, all units of the brigade have been staffed exclusively by military personnel under the contract.

Contract in the Airborne Forces in the Crimea

Back in 2016, the then commander of the Airborne Forces, Vladimir Shamanov, announced that during 2017, the 97th Airborne Assault Regiment would be recreated in Dzhankoy, Crimea. But so far there is no information about this.

Monetary allowance of military personnel under contract in the Airborne Forces

In addition to the basic payments that are due to each serviceman of the Russian Army, the Airborne Forces rely on, namely, in accordance with the order of the Ministry of Defense of the Russian Federation No. the rate of parachute jumps established by the Minister of Defense of the Russian Federation for the past year.

For military personnel, for each complicated parachute jump, the amount of the allowance increases by 1 percent.

It is worth noting that in the 45th brigade (regiment) of the Airborne Forces, military personnel receive an additional 50% of the salary for passing military service in a special connection.

Airborne contract service reviews

Our Airborne Troops are rapidly developing. More and more new models of modern military equipment are being put into service. And this means that professional military personnel will also be constantly required in the Airborne Forces.

Regarding the reviews, I would like to say that it depends on the military unit where the service will take place, and sometimes on the military itself. What can you say about this? How is your Airborne contract?