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| - Deserter |
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| Documents and Articles - Memoirs | ||
Deserter- I can't give you leave, - said the battalion CO. - You have to get permission from the brigade commander, and he still hasn't gotten back to HQ. You really can't live without seeing your aunt? - Well yeah, she was practically my mother. She took me in after mom died, and I was living with her in Essentuki the last three years. - Fine, go without leave, but I want you back here by morning. A couple of hours before this, our battalion entered Zheleznovodsk, only about 20 kilometers from Essentuki which was liberated a day earlier. One of the town's streets led in the right direction, and I cheerfully marched along imagining the reaction of the girls in my class seeing me in uniform. Near the edge of town I went to the last house and banged on the door. Back in those days, especially at night, most residents would just stay still hoping for whoever it was to move on. But, after becoming convinced that I wouldn't just go away, an old man's voice sounded: - What do you want? - Where's the road to Essentuki? - I asked. - Just keep going down this one. I kept marching on. After a couple of kilometers I ran into a pack of jackals tearing at a dead horse in the middle of the road. I walked up to about ten meters away, and still they wouldn't run off. "The nerve of them, - I thought, and let of a burst with my SMG in their direction. - And a lot more of them now, too!" Of course, that wasn't surprising - there was no shortage of food for them. Whole hosts of bloated equine corpses were strewn alongside the roads. Sad, really. They're completely unprepared for modern war - can't hide in a trench or a cellar, can't even lie down. Meanwhile, the air is swarming with bullets, shells, shrapnel. Some time ago we were bivouacked next to a horse-drawn battery. During one of the bombing raids, one of their horses - a beautiful load horse whom we all liked to watch when he was led down to the river every evening - lost half its face to a piece of shrapnel. The eyes were there, still looking at us, but instead of the front part - the nose, the mouth - there was only white bone. His minder, an elderly soldier, had tears in his eyes when he led the horse out of the township to put him down. And even though we were used to death, for some reason we all were really sad about this one horse. I kept on towards Essentuki. Finally, I started seeing familiar landmarks - the "English Garden", the railroad crossing. The city park, where just six months before my friends and I were hanging out, listening to open-air concerts, prancing around on the dance floor. Just a little while longer, and I could knock on my aunt's door. Won't auntie be surprised. Expecting her joyous welcome, I began to sing. For whatever reason, it was some dumb jazzy tune: I like my girl, yes sir I do, Her walk as light as an elephant's, Her long nose and her bald spot too, I still do like her, yes I do.... - Comrade soldier! - my singing was suddenly interrupted. - Your documents! A patrol walked up to me. The soldiers all looked too clean, too polished. Probably hadn't seen combat yet. I cheerfully explained to them that I was from the scout platoon of the 1st Battalion 7th Brigade 10th Guards Airborne Corps, and that I was going to visit my auntie, who happens to live right around that corner there, and that I had to get back to my unit by morning. - Your leave pass, - demanded the patrol leader. - Are you kidding me guys?! What leave pass? The brigade HQ was who knows where and the battalion CO just let me off for the night without a pass. - Not my problem. Give me a leave pass. We argued like that for some time. - All right, let's go. We'll sort this out back at the town administration. Seeing that there's no way around this, I went with them. The town administration happened to be in a former hospital building. The officer on duty, for some reason wearing a naval uniform, was situated in the director's office. - We got a deserter, - reported the patrol leader. For the umpteenth time I explained my side of the story. The officer was visibly nodding off and barely paying attention to me. - Take his weapon, put him inside with the rest. We'll sort this out in the morning. The patrol, back near the door, started moving at me, and I just lost it. The rest happened almost like in a dream - I jumped to the side, raised the SMG from my hip, took the safety off and pointed it the patrol. For whatever reason, the first words out of me were full of pathos: - The Guards never give up their weapons! I'll shoot if necessary! The patrol froze up, somewhat confused. In the strained silence, the officer's hand inched closer to his holster. I pointed the SMG at him. Fortunately, he turned out to be a cool customer, and broke the tense silence with a calm command: - All right, take him away as is. The detention hall contained about thirty disarmed soldiers, some standing, some sitting, some sprawled on the floor. Several were drunk. I found myself a spot and lay down, dark thoughts on my mind. Instead of strolling along the town, parading before the girls, I was in the jailhouse. Tomorrow they'd probably ship me off to a penal unit, and that'd be the last I see of my battalion, my comrades. After a while, I finally drifted off to sleep. In the morning, we got some new guards and they took us out to the backyard to relieve ourselves. Afterwards, the prisoners started back to the detention hall. I was standing in the corner of the yard ignoring the proceedings as if they had nothing to do with me. The guard let one prisoner back in after another, and after the last one looked at me quizzically. I kept standing still, half-facing him, keeping my weapon conspicuous. I was trembling on the inside, and deathly afraid to look him in the eye and betray myself. He kept looking at me for a while, then turned around and went in after the other prisoners. I remembered this hospital well. A year ago the doctors here gave me 24 shots in the belly after a dog bite. After strolling around the yard a little more, I confidently marched up the porch and got back on the street through a side entrance. I almost ran from that place, as if I had wings. - Comrade soldier! - I suddenly heard an imposing voice. My heart skipped a beat. Did someone notice my escape after all? I turned my head to see a short major dressed in a brand new uniform walking towards the town administration. - Why aren't you saluting a superior officer? "Honey, - flashed in my mind. - I'd kiss you all over, not just salute you. Thank God you just want me to salute you. I'd do anything for you not to take me back to that place." With feeling, and in a humble voice, I begged for his forgiveness and swear to never again break protocol. He gave me a brief lecture, then let me go. I ran to my house through some side streets, and knocked on the door. Once, twice. Silence. Notice. I caught up with my battalion three days later. My CO looked at me in surprise and said: - And I'd already filed the paperwork about your desertion.
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