Airborne Special Forces. Special forces of the Airborne Forces: history and structure. The specifics of special forces

A year ago, having heard in the tent of the military personnel of the 45th separate guards regiment special purpose airborne troops song "Scout special forces of the Airborne Forces”, I at first 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, which is in 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. They learned to be the crew commander of the MT-12 anti-tank gun, were awarded the rank of junior sergeant and assigned to the 134th Guards Motorized Rifle Regiment of the 45th Motor Rifle Regiment 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 high rank 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 an impromptu table in the hallway, but did not have time to raise open cans of condensed milk for the recent New Year and housewarming, as something serious 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.

Only right decision was the 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 Northern Fleet, were the first to reach the Terek.

On October 14, having completed the task of conducting optical reconnaissance of the settlement of 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 action movie: on the shaft in full height V. rises, raises his AKMS with a drum for 75 rounds, branches beveled by enemy bullets fall nearby, and he, as if charmed, 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. knock, powerful explosion, and the 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 retreat.
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 mine non-standard appearance successfully used by the Chekists. 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.

10 years of service in the special forces of the Airborne Forces, I sincerely believe best years own 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!

At 45 a separate shelf(now deployed in a brigade) of the special purpose of the Airborne Forces in Kubinka, the celebration of the 85th anniversary of the Airborne Forces took place. As always, the paratroopers put on an interesting show. A solemn rally with the laying of flowers to and rewarding those who distinguished themselves, a solemn march, music and songs of the Airborne Forces, demonstration performances by paratroopers with the obligatory breaking of bricks with their hands. The highlight of the holiday was an imitation of a battle to capture a militant base on enemy territory with the release of a hostage. Scouts, climbers, troops, armored personnel carriers, anti-tank systems and even a tank took part in the battle! Congratulations on the 85th anniversary of the Airborne Forces!
Photos are clickable, with geographic coordinates and binding to the Yandex map, 08/02/2015.

1. Solemn formation of the unit

2. By tradition, the celebration of the Airborne Forces Day begins with a solemn rally and the laying of flowers at

3. Command

4. Passage in a solemn march, the banner group leads the passage

5.

6. Znamenny group

7. After the solemn march, while preparations are underway for a simulated battle to free a hostage from a militant camp, military songs and the unofficial anthem of the Airborne Forces are played

8. Militant camp, bandits have fun: someone is training in throwing knives and axes, while others are dancing lezginka under "Black Eyes"

9. And at this time, the scouts descend from the cliff in the rear of the militants (the wall of the barracks acts as mountains)

10.

11. The militants are on the alert and the service is set for them - sentries are watching. But our scouts are secretly approaching the sentries...

12. ... and take them off

13. At this time, the sniper is destroyed by the leader of the militants (he is free with a pistol in his hand) and eliminate the danger to the hostage, whom the bandits hastily take to the house

14. The capture group is landing from the Mi-8 helicopter (in the role of the Mi-8 - the Ural car)

15. Demonstration of combat techniques (a slight digression from the imitation of the capture of the militant base)

16. Each paratrooper is tested by an armored personnel carrier (a slight digression from the imitation of the capture of a militant base)

17. And now the landing using an armored personnel carrier is fighting to capture the militant base

18. Demonstration of the reception "Carousel"

19.

20.

21. Unfortunately, a paratrooper was wounded during the battle, he is being evacuated to provide medical care

22. The surviving militants hid in the building and its assault and cleaning begins

23. Under the cover of an armored personnel carrier, medical assistance is provided to a wounded soldier

24. The hostage has been released and is being evacuated

25. The militants called for help and a tank arrived to support them! - He's on the right. But the paratroopers, using a requisitioned SUV (and they are now in the rear of enemy territory) and anti-tank systems, destroy the tank of militants

26. BANG!!! and the militants have no more tanks

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A small batch was sewn off by special order for the 20th anniversary of the regiment.
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chevron battalion and regimental with a wolf of the old sample - 250 ₽ + delivery
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Almost every army has special forces or special forces. Russian special forces Airborne is special regiment Airborne Forces, designed to perform various specific operations, which is part of the airborne troops of Russia. The 45th Regiment of the Special Forces of the Airborne Forces in 2015 was renamed the 45th separate brigade special forces of the Airborne Forces.

The history of the appearance of the special forces of the Airborne Forces

In the days of the USSR, there were not only special forces, but also no specialized detachments. The first Russian special forces detachment appeared only in 1994. Although there were many legends about special forces in Soviet times, in fact, dangerous missions were carried out by airborne units, and secret missions were mainly scouts and secret agents.

The 45th Special Forces Regiment of the Airborne Forces was formed in February 1994, specifically for the elimination of gangs in Chechnya. In 1995, when the entire regiment was withdrawn from Chechnya, he had already managed to show his effectiveness in battles.

In 1997, the 45th Special Forces Regiment received Active participation V Georgian-Abkhazian conflict, for which he received the Battle Banner and a letter of the Order of Kutuzov. With the resumption of hostilities in Chechnya from 1999 to 2006, the regiment's detachments actively participated in many military operations against terrorists and bandits.

Although the history of the special forces regiment of the Airborne Forces begins in 1994, he has already managed to cover himself with glory, since many of his fighters and officers are Heroes of the Russian Federation.

Weapons and equipment of the special forces of the Airborne Forces

Since the special forces of the Airborne Forces solve very specific and challenging tasks, then its weapons and equipment are of higher quality and more diverse than the standard weapons of the Airborne Forces (which is already one of the best in Russian army). Such weapons require huge funding. Soldiers of the special forces of the Airborne Forces often use such types of weapons that are practically inaccessible to other types of rifle troops.

Weapons that are most often used by special forces soldiers of the Airborne Forces:

• SVD is a famous sniper rifle. Although this weapon is not something outstanding, many veterans of the special forces of the Airborne Forces are accustomed to using this particular model of a sniper rifle. From this rifle, some skilled snipers even managed to shoot down planes, hitting their pilot;
• Currently SVD rifle replaces the Vintorez, which is a silent model of a sniper rifle. A powerful "sniper" not only allows you to hit targets that are at considerable distances from the shooter, but is also capable of penetrating a modern steel helmet at a distance of up to 400 meters. First combat applications sniper rifle "Vintorez" were recorded in the first Chechen company. This weapon is in service only with units of the special forces of the Airborne Forces, other types of troops do not have access to this weapon;
• The Steyr automatic rifle is also used by the special forces of the Airborne Forces. Although this weapon has a high price, its scope is quite wide. The Steyr rifle has the ability to install and use an underbarrel grenade launcher, which is often a necessity when performing special tasks. The use of such a combined weapon makes it possible to do without a regular grenade launcher, which can significantly reduce the mobility of a special forces group of the Airborne Forces performing a special task. Although the Steyr rifle has only recently appeared among the standard weapons of the special forces of the Airborne Forces, the fighters rightfully appreciated its reliability and versatility;
• Silent automatic machine AS "Val" entered service in the days of the USSR. In the late 80s, they were recommended for use by special forces when performing various sabotage missions that require noiselessness and secrecy. AS "Val" is equipped with a sniper and night sight, and its transportation is most often carried out in a compact case. Assembly time and preparation of AS "Val" for firing takes no more than 1 minute;
• The main assault rifle of the Russian army, the AK, is also used by special forces units of the Airborne Forces. True, these are not ordinary modifications that are used in the Russian army, but export models of the hundredth series. Most often, the special forces of the Airborne Forces use the AK-103, which, in addition to being of a better assembly, uses a caliber of 7.62 × 39 mm;
• For sudden operations, for which it is impossible to take overall models of weapons, most often they take AK-74M, which have a folding butt, the ability to use a sight and an underbarrel grenade launcher. In some cases, special forces soldiers use a shortened model from the line small arms Kalashnikov - AKS-74. At short distances, this model is practically not inferior in performance to standard Kalashnikov assault rifles;
• Naturally, the most popular machine gun, both for the entire Russian army and for the special forces of the Airborne Forces, is the Kalashnikov machine gun. Developed back in the 60s of the 20th century, it still has not lost popularity. There are many variants of the PC, which are used both for infantry and for installation on combat vehicles. The special forces of the Airborne Forces use the latest modification of the Kalashnikov machine gun - PKM, which is distinguished by its lower weight and ease of use. There is also a "night" version of the modernized Kalashnikov machine gun, which is called PKMN;
• A more modern model of a machine gun, which is in service with the special forces of the Airborne Forces, is the Pecheneg machine gun. This model is not just a modification of the PKM, but really new model, the basis for the creation of which was the PCM. This machine gun is suitable not only for firing at enemy manpower, but also for destroying transport and even air targets. The Pecheneg machine gun is exported to the countries of the CIS and the East;
• For hostage rescue operations, the AN-95 Abdukan assault rifle is used, which outwardly resembles a Kalashnikov assault rifle. Its main difference from the "Kalash" is the incredible accuracy and accuracy of shots. At a distance of 100 meters, an experienced sniper is able to hit the same point with two shots. In hostage rescue operations, people's lives often depend on the accuracy of the fighters involved in their rescue. The AN-95 "Abdukan" submachine gun is able to significantly reduce the death rate of hostages in such operations, since several accurate shots able to quickly eliminate terrorists;
• In addition to small arms, the special forces of the Airborne Forces often use grenades. The most common is the RPG-26. This type of rocket-propelled grenades, which were developed back in the mid-80s, still has not lost its relevance and is effective tool to destroy enemy equipment and fortifications. Since the range of application of these grenades is very wide, they are used different types troops of the Russian Federation.

In addition to the above models of weapons, the special forces of the Airborne Forces receive and latest designs equipment that is developed taking into account the specifics of the combat missions of special forces.

The specifics of special forces

Since the execution special tasks, which are placed in front of the special forces of the Airborne Forces, requires specialized weapons, equipment and equipment, the funding that is allocated for the needs of the special forces differs significantly in a big way. The training of personnel is particularly thorough, and specialists are trained only in the best training centers, under the guidance of veteran instructors. In addition, joint international exercises are being carried out, in which special forces different countries exchanged combat experience.

Service in the special forces of the Airborne Forces is carried out, as a rule, under a contract, which is concluded for at least 3 years. This is due to the fact that almost every special forces fighter is a highly qualified specialist in some field, and a huge amount is invested in him during training, and the departure of such a fighter can disrupt the entire well-established structure in the detachment, where each fighter clearly performs exactly his tasks. For example, having lost a mining specialist, the squad will spend much more time penetrating the militants' hideout, which can cost the life of the entire squad, as it will give the bandits the opportunity to prepare for the attack.

Tasks that the special forces of the Airborne Forces should solve

The main task of the special forces is the complete demoralization of the enemy. Suddenly appearing behind enemy lines, experienced fighters who have excellent training are able to cause significant damage to the enemy in a matter of minutes. Seeing how a small detachment easily copes with many times superior forces, the enemy loses faith in victory and easily turns into a panic. The task of the regular troops at this moment is to support the special forces and occupy the captured positions.

In addition, the special forces of the Airborne Forces are capable of conducting sabotage activities behind enemy lines, organizing resistance units and "poaching" the civilian population to their side. To this end, special forces units of the Airborne Forces not only undergo special psychological training, but also have mobile television stations capable of broadcasting within a radius of about 10 kilometers.

In peacetime, there is also a lot of work for the special forces of the Airborne Forces. In addition, Russian special forces annually take part in competitions that are held among the special forces of the leading countries of the world. Russian special forces constantly take first place, bypassing both the famous Green Berets and British special forces.

The training of the special forces of the Airborne Forces is still at its best, but every year it becomes more and more difficult to recruit recruits. There are enough applicants, but among them it is quite difficult to choose worthy ones. If earlier each applicant had a sports category (often even in several sports), now such recruits are quite rare.

How to get into the special forces of the Airborne Forces

Those applicants who want to get into the special forces of the Airborne Forces must already have served their military service and have high health indicators that are required for future special forces. After passing a medical examination, applicants are subjected to a variety of tests that should determine their mental health and readiness to serve in the special forces.

The most calm and balanced applicants are taken as snipers or sappers, the rest are distributed according to military professions according to temperament and psychological stability. Those applicants who have not passed the tests are offered service in other parts of the Russian army.

After the selection, exercises begin, which are passed by no more than 40 percent of applicants. If too few people remain after the exercises, the empty places are filled with the best fighters of the Airborne Forces, who have shown themselves excellently during their military service. Such a tough selection leads to the fact that after a year of training, fighters are already experts in the application various types weapons and special devices. The best fighters special forces of the Airborne Forces are real universal soldiers, although almost every one of them knows any military profession better than others.

In the short time that the special forces of the Airborne Forces exist, its officers and fighters managed to take part in all the military conflicts in which Russia was drawn. Until now, the special forces of the Airborne Forces are the most elite warriors army of the Russian Federation. Numerous medals and orders, which were awarded to the soldiers and officers of the special forces of the Airborne Forces, serve as a clear proof of this.

At the end of February 2000, two groups of special forces of the Airborne Forces, reinforced by two groups of Vympel, received the task of taking the heights near the village of Zana and pulling out a battalion of paratroopers on them. The operation was led by the Chief of Staff of the 45th Airborne Regiment, Lieutenant Colonel Alexei Romanov.

We climbed the mountains all day long. For the night we stopped between the hills, on which our blocks were. The night was hellish: snow, blizzard and hard frost. At the infantry sitting on the heights, four soldiers froze to death. The morning was also hellish - when we moved on, the snow was chest-deep. We went to the limit of our capabilities, taking turns breaking the road.

Trampled one ten meters- and the next one goes forward with fresh forces. And so 27 kilometers. February 28, finally got to Sharoargun - fast mountain river. We stopped at an altitude of 1381. Further - too steep mountains. Having climbing equipment, the special forces would have climbed them, but the battalion would not have been able to follow them later. Romanov and the group commanders went on reconnaissance closer to the river and found "spirits".

The shootout was fleeting - the "spirits" did not understand from where they were being hit. On February 29, an order from the command post of the Airborne Forces did not give an order to continue the journey: the groups were given the task of gaining a foothold at a height. Just at that time, the 6th company of the Pskov Airborne Division fought against the many times superior enemy forces. The shooting that did not stop all day was well heard, but what exactly was happening, they did not yet know. On the night of March 1, when the battle was still going on, a new order was received: to leave in a northerly direction. We went out - and soon ran into the enemy. Fire contact took place at a considerable distance, but the militants nevertheless turned back.

As it will become known later from the stories of the prisoners, in the area of ​​​​the Argun Gorge, about two and a half thousand militants gathered under the command of Khattab to move east. Through Kirov-Yurt, Tsa-Vedeno, Kurchali and Nozhai-Yurt, the bandits went to Dagestan to launch large-scale military operations there. When this whole pack of wolves set in motion, the forests between Ulus-Kert and Selmentauzen were simply teeming with militants, with whom the 6th company, special forces and others fought in different places. The Pskovites took the brunt of the blow.

Khattab himself led the battle against them, Basayev was also here, who was carried on a stretcher ... On the morning of March 1, when the fighting subsided everywhere, the special forces received the task of reaching Hill 776, where the company died. According to aerial reconnaissance, the militants took away the bodies of the dead paratroopers. They had to be stopped. On the other hand, about 100 paratroopers advanced to Hill 776 for the same purpose.

As a result, it turned out that the "spirits" really took away the corpses, but only their own. There were so many of them that the bandits had no time for the fallen paratroopers. About thirty of the killed militants, slightly sprinkled with earth, remained abandoned. Judging by the rugs and inscriptions, they were Arabs. The Chechens took theirs. The entire height was plowed up with artillery - dying, the landing force caused fire on itself.

It was not possible to pick up the dead that day from the height. It was reported from the headquarters that another 1,500 “spirits” were on the way, the advanced patrol of which, judging by the radio intercepts, was already seeing the paratroopers. I had to retreat and take up defense on one of the nearby heights.

The commandos patiently waited, subduing for the time being a terrible desire for revenge, and then they accurately aimed artillery at the gang walking through the mountains. The militants stretched along the wooded slopes, trying to keep their disguise, only occasionally illuminated their way with flashlights and called to each other, imitating the hoot of an eagle owl.

It did not help - only a mess of human bodies remained from the gang. There was a stench in the Midulkhan tract even two months later. In the meantime, the battalions themselves went to the Zans, and the scouts set off on their way back. The exit on the assignment for three days stretched as a result to nine. Having entered into battle with the "spirits" also in the area of ​​Mount Pithailan and destroyed the captured "Cliff", the paratroopers finally returned to the camp.

Until Tsa-Vedeno, whose inhabitants, according to the FSB, took 500 (according to the number of militants) bags of meat and bread to the mountains, only one in five "spirits" reached at best. More than 70 militants entrenched in Selmentauzen, abandoned by the inhabitants, will surrender a little later, after negotiations. Another four dozen militants will try to escape to the east through the forests, but they will stumble directly into an ambush set up by special forces, and everyone will die. The special forces did not have losses in these operations ...

Most of the unfinished militants, having buried their weapons, have now settled in the villages. Terrorists who have shaved off their beards are not afraid of any special operations. All, except maybe Khattab and Basayev and a few dozen other "thugs" hiding in mountain caves, have Russian passports issued in accordance with all the rules.

At the beginning of spring, many feared for good reason that the greenery would bloom and there would be no peace from saboteurs. But that did not happen. Why? At least part of the answer to this question is in one of the special forces tents, where samples of trophies mined in the mountains were waiting for the visit of the commander of the Airborne Forces for several months.

In the spring alone, the fighters of the special forces regiment of the Airborne Forces destroyed so many caches and bases that more than one battalion could be equipped with their contents. Particularly rich booty was taken 7 kilometers south of Khatun. A well-camouflaged base near the Bass River was given away by wooden toilets. Everything else - containers with weapons, ammunition, provisions, as well as sleeping quarters for 200-300 militants - were underground.

They found hundreds of overcoats, cotton uniforms, 82-mm mines, shots for RPGs, AGS and even a 73-mm cannon, as well as another 600 kg of smelted TNT, a lot of products and religious literature. And in the grottoes were two armored personnel carriers-80 and GAZ-66. For two days the scouts blew up this stuff. However, one of the armored personnel carriers covered with Arabic script reached the camp on its own and will now serve as special forces.