Alexander Ivanovich Kolesnikov, who became after the war. Kolesnikov Alexander Ivanovich (sergeant)

When you post a post about the Great Patriotic War, you often come across comments about the fact that they don’t believe in the atrocities of fascism, about the fact that it couldn’t have happened like this! Eternal words that all this is Soviet propaganda and so on.
It seems as if people forgot, didn’t see, didn’t read...
Here’s another post, read it and think about whether this could be invented as a child...

In March 1943, my friend and I ran away from school and went to the front. We managed to climb onto a freight train into a car with baled hay. It seemed that everything was going well, but at one of the stations we were discovered and sent back to Moscow. On the way back, I again ran to the front - to my father, who served as deputy commander of a mechanized corps. Where have I been, how many roads I had to walk, ride on passing cars... Once in Nizhyn I accidentally met a wounded tankman from my father’s unit. It turned out that my father received news from my mother about my “heroic” deed and promised to give me an excellent “shot” when I met him.

The latter significantly changed my plans. Without thinking twice, I joined the tankers who were heading to the rear for reorganization. I told them that my father was also a tanker, that he had lost his mother during the evacuation, that he was left completely alone... They believed me, accepted me into the unit as the son of the regiment - the 50th Regiment of the 11th Tank Corps. So at the age of 12 I became a soldier.

I went on reconnaissance missions behind enemy lines twice, and both times I completed the task. True, the first time he almost betrayed our radio operator, to whom he was carrying a new set of electric batteries for the walkie-talkie. The meeting was scheduled at the cemetery. Call sign: duck quack. It turned out that I got to the cemetery at night. The picture is terrifying: all the graves were torn apart by shells... Probably more out of fear than based on the real situation, he began to quack. I quacked so hard that I didn’t notice how our radio operator crawled up behind me and, covering my mouth with his hand, whispered: “Are you crazy, guy? Where have you ever seen ducks quack at night?! They sleep at night!” Nevertheless, the task was completed. After successful campaigns behind enemy lines, I was respectfully called San Sanych.

In June 1944, the 1st Belorussian Front began preparations for the offensive. I was called to the corps intelligence department and introduced to the pilot-lieutenant colonel. The air ace looked at me with great doubt. The intelligence chief caught his eye and assured that San Sanych could be trusted, that I had long been a “shot sparrow.” The pilot lieutenant colonel was taciturn. The Nazis near Minsk are preparing a powerful defensive barrier. Equipment is continuously transferred by rail to the front. Unloading is carried out somewhere in the forest, on a disguised railway line 60-70 kilometers from the front line. This thread needs to be destroyed. But this is not at all easy to do. The reconnaissance paratroopers did not return from the mission. Aviation reconnaissance also cannot detect this branch: the camouflage is impeccable. The task is to find a secret railway line within three days and mark its location by hanging old bed linen on the trees.

They dressed me in civilian clothes and gave me a bundle of bed linen. It turned out to be a homeless teenager exchanging underwear for food. Crossed the front line at night with a group of scouts. They had their own task, and soon we parted. I made my way through the forest along the main railway. Every 300-400 meters there are paired fascist patrols. Pretty exhausted, I dozed off during the day and almost got caught. I woke up from a strong kick. Two policemen searched me and shook up the entire bale of linen. Several potatoes, a piece of bread and lard were discovered and were immediately taken away. They also grabbed a couple of pillowcases and towels with Belarusian embroidery. At parting they “blessed”:
- Get out before they shoot you!

That's how I got off. Fortunately, the police did not turn my pockets inside out. Then there would be trouble: on the lining of my jacket pocket there was printed a topographical map with the location of railway stations... On the third day I came across the bodies of the paratroopers that the pilot-lieutenant colonel had spoken about. The heroic scouts died in a clearly unequal battle. Soon my path was blocked by barbed wire. The restricted zone has begun! I walked along the wire for several kilometers until I came to the main railway line. We were lucky: a military train loaded with tanks slowly turned off the main path and disappeared between the trees. Here it is, a mysterious branch!

The Nazis disguised it perfectly. Moreover, the echelon was moving tail-first! The locomotive was located behind the train. This created the impression that the locomotive was smoking on the main line. At night I climbed to the top of a tree growing at the junction of the railway line with the main highway and hung the first sheet there. By dawn I hung the bed linen in three more places. I marked the last point with my own shirt, tying it by the sleeves. Now it fluttered in the wind like a flag. I sat on the tree until the morning. It was very scary, but most of all I was afraid of falling asleep and missing the reconnaissance plane. "Lavochkin-5" appeared on time. The Nazis did not touch him so as not to give themselves away. The plane circled for a long time, then passed over me, turned towards the front and waved its wings. It was a prearranged signal: “The branch is marked, go away - we’ll bomb!”

He untied his shirt and went down to the ground. Having moved only two kilometers away, I heard the roar of our bombers, and soon explosions blazed where the enemy’s secret branch passed. The echo of their cannonade accompanied me throughout the first day of my journey to the front line. The next day I went to the Sluch River. There were no auxiliary boats to cross the river. In addition, on the opposite side the enemy guard's guardhouse was visible. About a kilometer to the north, an old wooden bridge with a single railway track could be seen. I decided to cross it on a German train: I’ll hitch up somewhere on the brake platform. I've already done this several times. There were sentries on both the bridge and along the railway. I decided to try my luck at the siding where trains stop to let oncoming people pass. He crawled, hiding behind the bushes, fortifying himself with strawberries along the way. And suddenly, right in front of me - a boot! I thought it was German. He began to crawl back, but then he heard a muffled report:
- Another train is passing, comrade captain!

It relieved my heart. I pulled the captain's boot, which seriously frightened him. We got to know each other: we crossed the front line together. From the haggard faces, I realized that the scouts had been at the bridge for more than one day, but could do nothing to destroy this crossing. The approaching train was unusual: the carriages were sealed, the SS guards. They're carrying ammunition! The train stopped to allow an oncoming ambulance train to pass. The submachine gunners from the guards of the train with ammunition moved to the opposite side from us to see if there were any acquaintances among the wounded.

And then it dawned on me! He grabbed the explosives from the soldier’s hands and, without waiting for permission, rushed to the embankment. He crawled under the carriage, struck a match... Then the carriage wheels moved, and an SS man's forged boot hung from the running board. It is impossible to get out from under the carriage... What can you do? The “dog walker” opened the coal box as he walked and climbed into it along with the explosives. When the wheels thumped dully on the bridge deck, he struck a match again and lit the fuse. There were only a few seconds left before the explosion. I look at the burning ignition cord and think: I’m about to be torn to pieces! He jumped out of the box, slipped between the sentries, and off the bridge into the water! Diving over and over again, he swam with the flow. Shots from the sentries from the bridge echoed the machine gun fire of echelon SS men. And then my explosive went off. Cars with ammunition began to break as if in a chain. The firestorm consumed the bridge, the train, and the guards.

No matter how hard I tried to swim away, I was overtaken and picked up by a fascist guard boat. By the time he moored to the shore not far from the lodge, I had already lost consciousness from the beating. The brutal Nazis crucified me: my hands and feet were nailed to the wall at the entrance. Our scouts saved me. They saw that I had survived the explosion, but had fallen into the hands of the guards. Having suddenly attacked the guardhouse, the Red Army soldiers recaptured me from the Germans. I woke up under the stove of a burnt Belarusian village. I learned that the scouts took me off the wall, wrapped me in a raincoat and carried me in their arms to the front line. Along the way we came across an enemy ambush. Many died in the quick battle. The wounded sergeant picked me up and carried me out of this hell. He hid me and, leaving me his machine gun, went to get water to treat my wounds. He was not destined to return...

I don’t know how long I spent in my hiding place. He lost consciousness, came to his senses, and again fell into oblivion. Suddenly I hear: tanks are coming, by the sound - ours. I screamed, but with such a roar of caterpillars, naturally, no one heard me. I once again lost consciousness from overexertion. When I woke up, I heard Russian speech. What if the police were there? Only after making sure that they were his own did he call for help. They pulled me out from under the stove and immediately sent me to the medical battalion. Then there was a front-line hospital, an ambulance train and, finally, a hospital in distant Novosibirsk. I spent almost five months in this hospital. Having never completed treatment, I ran away with the tank crews who were being discharged, persuading my grandmother-nanny to bring me some old clothes so that I could “take a walk around the city.”

The regiment caught up with us already in Poland, near Warsaw. I was assigned to a tank crew. While crossing the Vistula, our crew took an ice bath. When the shell hit, the steam shook violently, and the T-34 dived to the bottom. The tower hatch, despite the efforts of the guys, did not open under water pressure. Water slowly filled the tank. Soon it reached my throat... Finally, the hatch was opened. The guys pushed me to the surface first. Then they took turns diving into the icy water to hook the rope to the hooks. The sunken car was pulled out with great difficulty by two coupled "thirty-fours".

During this ferry adventure, I met the pilot lieutenant colonel who had once sent me to find a secret railway line. How happy he was:
– I’ve been looking for you for six months! I gave my word: if I’m alive, I’ll definitely find it! The tankers let me go to the air regiment for a day. I met the pilots who bombed that secret branch. They gave me chocolate and took me on a U-2 ride. Then the entire air regiment lined up, and I was solemnly awarded the Order of Glory, III degree.

At the Seelow Heights on April 16, 1945, I had the opportunity to knock out Hitler's "tiger". At the intersection, two tanks came face to face. I was the gunner, fired the first sub-caliber shell and hit the “tiger” under the turret. The heavy armored “cap” flew off like a light ball. On the same day, our tank was also knocked out. The crew, fortunately, survived completely. We changed the car and continued to participate in the battles. Of this, the second tank, only three survived...

By April 29, I was already in the fifth tank. Of his crew, only me was saved. The Faust cartridge exploded in the engine part of our combat vehicle. I was in the gunner's place. The driver grabbed me by the legs and threw me through the front hatch. After that, he began to get out on his own. But literally a few seconds were not enough: the ammunition shells began to explode, and the driver was killed. I woke up in the hospital on May 8th. The hospital was located in Karlshorst opposite the building where the German Surrender Act was signed. None of us will forget this day. The wounded did not pay attention to the doctors, nurses, or their own wounds - they jumped, danced, hugged each other. Having laid me down on a sheet, they dragged me to the window to show how Marshal Zhukov came out after signing the surrender. Later, Keitel and his dejected retinue were brought out.

He returned to Moscow in the summer of 1945. For a long time I did not dare to enter my house on Begovaya Street... I did not write to my mother for more than two years, fearing that she would take me away from the front. I was afraid of nothing more than this meeting with her. I realized how much grief I had brought her!.. I entered silently, just as they taught me to walk in reconnaissance. But my mother’s intuition turned out to be subtler - she turned around sharply, raised her head and for a long, long time, without looking away, looked at me, at my tunic, my awards...
- Do you smoke? – she finally asked.
- Yeah! – I lied to hide my embarrassment and not show tears. Many years later, I visited the place where the bridge was blown up and found a guardhouse on the shore. It is all destroyed - just ruins. I walked around and examined the new bridge. Nothing reminded us of the terrible tragedy that took place here during the war.

Alexander Kolesnikov. San Sanych...Sashka’s father went to the front and told him: “Take care of your mother, Sanka!” The boy really wanted to go to the front with his father, but no one talked to him seriously. Fifth-grader Vovka, who seemed very mature, was leaving for duty in the people's squad, once advised him: “And you run away...” And in the spring of 1943, Sashka and his friend ran away from school lessons and went to war... On the way, of course, they caught and sent home. But no one could stop Sasha: he was going to beat the Nazis. He escaped from those accompanying him. Almost at the very front line, the boy met tankman Egorov. The Red Army soldier believed the boy’s sad, fictitious story that his father was also a tanker and was now at the front, and he lost his mother during the evacuation and was left completely alone. The tanker took pity on the 12-year-old tomboy. He brought him to his commander. “Such little ones have no place in the army,” the commander said sternly. - Therefore, feed the boy, and tomorrow send him to the rear! Sashka almost burst into tears from insult. I spent the whole night thinking about what to do. In the morning, when everyone was asleep, he crawled out of the dugout to escape again. Suddenly the command “AIR” was heard. It was German planes that began to bomb the positions of our troops. Sashka managed to hear Sergeant Egorov looking for him in the distance: “Sashka! Where are you? Come back." One bomb exploded very close and he was thrown into a crater by the wave. When I woke up, I saw a German paratrooper in the sky, landing right on Sasha. The canopy of the parachute covered both of them. The fascist, seeing the boy, took out a pistol. Sashka contrived and threw a handful of earth in his eyes. Suddenly, someone jumped over Sasha and grabbed the German. A struggle ensued, and when the German began to choke our soldier, Sashka took a stone and hit the fascist on the head. He immediately fell unconscious, and Sergeant Egorov crawled out from under him. When the commander asked Egorov who took the “tongue,” he proudly answered: “SASHKA!” So at the age of twelve, Sashka was enlisted as the son of the regiment - in the 50th regiment of the 11th Tank Corps. And he received his first combat award, the medal “FOR COURAGE,” which was presented to him by the commander in front of all the fighters... The soldiers immediately fell in love with Sasha for his courage and determination, treated him with respect and called him SanSanych. Once Sashka received the task of discovering a railway line camouflaged in the forest, along which the Nazis were transferring equipment to the front. The reconnaissance paratroopers did not return from the mission. Aviation reconnaissance also cannot detect anything. The 12-year-old scout has 3 days to do everything... Soon, explosions blazed where the enemy’s secret branch ran. The echo of their cannonade accompanied Sashka throughout the first day of his return from the mission. The next day, Sashka met our scouts, with whom we crossed the front line. For several days now they have not been able to destroy the crossing. And then the train stopped on the bridge: the cars were sealed, SS guards. They're carrying ammunition! Sashka grabbed the explosives from the soldier’s hands and rushed to the embankment. He crawled under the carriage, struck a match... Then the carriage wheels moved, and a German’s forged boot hung from the running board. It is impossible to get out from under the carriage... What can you do? He opened the “dog walker” coal box as he walked and climbed into it along with the explosives. When the wheels thumped dully on the bridge deck, he struck a match again and lit the fuse. There were only a few seconds left before the explosion. He jumped out of the box, slipped between the sentries, and off the bridge into the water! The firestorm consumed the bridge, the train, and the guards... But San Sanycha caught up with the fascist boat. The Germans beat the boy so much that he lost consciousness. The brutal Germans dragged Sasha into a house on the river bank and crucified him: his hands and feet were nailed to the wall at the entrance. The scouts saved San Sanych - they recaptured the young scout from the Germans... Sashka was treated in the Novosibirsk hospital for five months. But he ran away with the tankers who were leaving, persuading his grandmother-nanny to bring him some old clothes so he could “take a walk around the city.” ...When San Sanych caught up with his regiment near Warsaw, he was assigned to a tank crew, as a gunner. In one of the battles, the entire crew died, only Sashka survived. He was taken wounded to the hospital. There I met victory! San Sanych returned to Moscow in the summer of 1945. For a long time he did not dare to enter his house on Begovaya Street... He did not write to his mother for more than two years, fearing that she would take him away from the front. I was afraid of nothing more than this meeting with her. I understood how much grief he had brought her!.. He entered silently, as they were taught to walk in reconnaissance. But the mother’s intuition turned out to be subtler - she turned around sharply, raised her head and for a long, long time, without looking away, looked at Sashka, at his tunic on which were two orders and five medals... - Do you smoke? – she finally asked. - Yeah! – Sashka lied to hide his embarrassment and not cry. -You are so small, you defended our HOMELAND! “I’m so proud of you,” said mom. Sashka hugged his mom and they both cried...... P.S. Alexander Aleksandrovich Kolesnikov died in 2001; a feature film “It Was in Intelligence” was made about him.

(1888-1965)

Alexander Ivanovich Kolesnikov was born in 1888 into a peasant family in the village of Veselye Terny, Verkhnedneprovsky district, Dnepropetrovsk region. Having lost his parents at an early age, he spent his childhood in a craft shelter, from which he graduated in 1908. In 1915, he graduated from the Novo-Alexandrovsky Institute of Agriculture and Forestry in Kharkov. He was left at the institute for teaching and from 1915 to 1922. was an assistant. In 1923, he received the title of professor in the department of “state forestry” and successively held the positions of dean of the forestry faculty, vice-rector for academic affairs and rector of the institute. For many years A.I. Kolesnikov took an active part in organizing forestry and forestry experimental work. These works are reflected in his numerous articles published in a number of magazines and special publications in Ukraine.

A.I. Kolesnikov planted experimental crops of pine, oak and ash of different geographical origins in many forestry enterprises and arboretums. The first work on the selection of tree species in Ukraine began. In 1929 A.I. Kolesnikov participated in the International Congress of Forestry Experimental Stations in Stockholm (Sweden) as a delegate of the USSR. His report “On the achievements of forest selection in Ukraine” was published in the proceedings of the congress.

At the beginning of the Great Patriotic War A.I. Kolesnikov volunteered to join the ranks of the people’s militia and took an active part in the work of the Kharkov PavkhO. Subsequently, he managed defense research work (see the book “Scientists of Kharkov on the anniversary of the liberation of their native city”). Among the numerous works performed by A.I. Kolesnikov during the war, there were studies and printed works devoted to medicinal plants. Among them are “Valuable medicinal plants of the Caucasus”, “Wild-growing medicinal plants of Abkhazia and the northern regions of the Black Sea coast of the Caucasus”, etc., as well as the brochure he wrote for the Crimean partisans “Wild-growing medicinal edible and poisonous plants of the mountainous Crimea”, which saved the lives of many people during war. For active defense work during the Great Patriotic War A.I. Kolesnikov was awarded government awards.

After the war, he took an active part in restoration work: he participated in the development of a plan for the restoration of Tuapse, under the leadership of Academician Shchusev, he advised on the project of the first stage of the restoration of Stalingrad (in terms of landscaping), and participated in the state examination of projects for the restoration of Sevastopol. According to the projects of A.I. Kolesnikov created a number of parks in Ukraine, Sochi and Georgia. In 1957-58 According to his project, the largest experimental arboretum in the USSR was created in the vicinity of Tbilisi. At the invitation of the Slovak Academy of Sciences A.I. Kolesnikov visited Czechoslovakia twice, where he advised the Dendrological Institute and a number of cities and resorts on landscaping and restoration of valuable historical parks.

For his long scientific and pedagogical activity, A.I. Kolesnikov trained numerous cadres of foresters, ornamental gardening agronomists and park architects. He published over 60 works with a total volume of more than 300 printed pages. Among them are such major works as “Architecture of parks of the Caucasus and Crimea”, “Pitsunda pine and related species”, “Decorative dendrology”. The book “Decorative Dendrology” is unique both in volume (704 pp.) and in content. The preface to the book states that the author of the work “set out to create a manual on decorative dendrology, which would give the opportunity to architects designing landscape gardening objects, and engineers and technical workers carrying out their construction, to study in detail the decorative properties of tree species that are most interesting to the urban planner and at the same time, become sufficiently familiar with the biological properties of these rocks for their most rational use in green construction in various regions of the Soviet Union.”

The book “Pitsunda Pine and Related Species” gives a detailed description of the famous grove, which at this time is not only a valuable natural monument for science, but also the main wealth of the large Pitsunda resort. The author has proposed measures and a regime, the observance of which will allow, in the most difficult conditions, to completely preserve and even expand the pine grove.

A.I. Kolesnikov was intolerant of unprofessionalism in landscape design and construction. In the collection “Problems of Landscape Architecture,” published in 1936, the author writes: “In park projects, in most cases, there is no visible desire to create a unified architectural image, no search for style. Design solutions are dominated by bare functionalism and simplification or formalism, sometimes turning into graphic “trickism” (for example, they try to give the system of paths and areas of the park the shape of industrial elements - a gear wheel, transmission, etc. - or an intricate geometric figure of a complex pattern, etc. .). There are many examples where, when striving for one or another graphic design solution, the natural environment is not taken into account sufficiently.” How modern is the warning of the great master. Let's listen to his words...

Material for publication provided

magazine “Landscape Plus”

War adventure film Lev Mirsky With Viktor Zhukov, Valery Malyshev, Vladimir Grammatikov , Viktor Filippov, Natalia Velichko And Sergei Pozharsky starring.

Film crew of the film It Was in Intelligence / Eto bylo v razvedke

Director: Lev Mirsky
Written by: Vadim Trunin
Cast: Viktor Zhukov, Valery Malyshev, Vladimir Grammatikov, Viktor Filippov, Natalya Velichko, Sergei Pozharsky, Viktor Shakhov, Shavkat Gaziev, Leonid Reutov, Stanislav Simonov and others
Operator: Vitaly Grishin
Composer: Leonid Afanasiev

The plot of the film It Was in Intelligence / Eto bylo v razvedke

In the summer of 1943, twelve-year-old Vasya Kolesov(Viktor Zhukov), left without parents, fled to the front.

On the road Vasya met a tank sergeant Egorov(Viktor Filippov), who brought him to his unit.

Commander Egorova, lieutenant Golovin(Sergei Pozharsky) ordered the boy to be sent back to the rear, but he again returned to the unit’s location and, together with a reconnaissance soldier, captured a German pilot who had parachuted from a downed plane.

To the tankers Vasya did not return, but stayed with the scouts, who, after detaining the German, began to respectfully and jokingly call him Vasily Ivanovich.

Together with his new comrades Vasya Kolesov More than once he went behind enemy lines, carrying out important missions.

One day, after a young intelligence officer blew up a bridge along with a German train, he was captured by the Nazis...

The history of the film It Was in Intelligence / Eto bylo v razvedke

The plot of the film was based on real events - facts from the biography of the Soviet intelligence officer Alexander Ivanovich Kolesnikov.

In 1943 Sasha Kolesnikov, who, unlike the hero of the film, was not an orphan, fled to the front with a friend. On the way, the boys were caught and sent home, but Sasha again made an attempt to reach the front line, and this time his efforts were crowned with success. Having joined the scouts, he more than once participated in operations with them and carried out important tasks.

Kolesnikov reached Berlin and celebrated Victory Day in one of the hospitals where he was admitted after being seriously wounded. Died Alexander Ivanovich at the age of 70 in 2001 in Moscow.

The young intelligence officer’s military merits were noted Order of Glory III degree, Order of the Patriotic War 1st degree, medals" For courage"(twice)" For the liberation of Warsaw", "For the capture of Berlin", "For victory over Germany".

From memory Alexandra Kolesnikova famous Soviet writer, historian, television and radio presenter about the war Sergey Smirnov wrote an essay " San Sanych"(that was the name Sasha his comrades), published in 1967. Based on this essay, film playwright Vadim Trunin wrote the script, which was directed by Lev Mirsky staged the picture " It was in intelligence".

Performer of the role Vasya Kolesova found in one of the ordinary Moscow schools. He became a 15-year-old Vitya Zhukov.

"Discoverer" Zhukova, who after filming Mirsky played in several more films, and later joined the troupe Theater of the Soviet Army, became the second director of the film Nina Ivanova, well known to fans of Russian cinema as a teacher Tatyana Sergeevna from tape Marlena Khutsieva And Felix Mironer "Spring on Zarechnaya Street ".

After the film's release Kolesnikov wrote a book of memoirs. About an episode of his front-line life, which formed the basis for the most dramatic moment of the film - capture by the Germans and rescue from their hands by intelligence officers - Alexander Ivanovich wrote:

“No matter how hard I tried to swim away, I was overtaken and picked up by a fascist guard boat. By the time he landed on the shore, not far from the guardhouse, I had already lost consciousness from the beating. The brutal Nazis crucified me: my hands and feet were nailed to the wall at the entrance. Our scouts saved me. They saw that I had survived the explosion, but had fallen into the hands of the guards. Having suddenly attacked the guardhouse, the Red Army soldiers recaptured me from the Germans. I woke up under the stove of a burnt Belarusian village. I learned that the scouts took me off the wall, wrapped me in a raincoat and carried me in their arms to the front line. Along the way we came across an enemy ambush. Many died in the quick battle. The wounded sergeant picked me up and carried me out of this hell. He hid me and, leaving me his machine gun, went to get water to treat my wounds. He was not destined to return... I don’t know how long I spent in my hiding place. He lost consciousness, came to his senses, and again fell into oblivion. Suddenly I hear: tanks are coming, by the sound - ours. I screamed, but with such a roar of caterpillars, naturally, no one heard me. I once again lost consciousness from overexertion. When I woke up, I heard Russian speech. What if the police were there? Only after making sure that they were his own did he call for help. They pulled me out from under the stove and immediately sent me to the medical battalion. Then there was a front-line hospital, an ambulance train and, finally, a hospital in distant Novosibirsk.”

In its premiere year, the film became one of the box office leaders, attracting 24.2 million viewers with a circulation of 1,619 copies.

In March 1943, my friend and I ran away from school and went to the front. We managed to climb onto a freight train, into a car with baled hay. It seemed that everything was going well, but at one of the stations we were discovered and sent back to Moscow.

On the way back, I again ran to the front - to my father, who served as deputy commander of a mechanized corps. Where have I been, how many roads I had to walk, travel by passing cars: Once in Nizhyn I accidentally met a wounded tankman from my father’s unit. It turned out that my father received news from my mother about my “heroic” deed and promised to give me an excellent “shot” when I met him.

The latter significantly changed my plans. Without thinking twice, I joined the tankers who were heading to the rear for reorganization. I told them that my father was also a tanker, that he had lost his mother during the evacuation, that he was left completely alone: They believed me, accepted me into the unit as the son of a regiment - into the 50th Regiment of the 11th Tank Corps. So at the age of 12 I became a soldier.

I went on reconnaissance missions behind enemy lines twice, and both times I completed the task. True, the first time he almost betrayed our radio operator, to whom he was carrying a new set of electric batteries for the walkie-talkie. The meeting was scheduled at the cemetery. Call sign - duck quack. It turned out that I got to the cemetery at night. The picture is terrifying: all the graves were torn apart by shells: Probably more out of fear than based on the real situation, he began to quack. I quacked so hard that I didn’t notice how our radio operator crawled up behind me and, covering my mouth with his hand, whispered: “Are you crazy, guy? Where have you ever seen ducks quack at night?! They sleep at night!” Nevertheless, the task was completed. After successful campaigns behind enemy lines, I was respectfully called San Sanych.

The pilot lieutenant colonel was taciturn. The Germans near Minsk are preparing a powerful defensive barrier. Equipment is continuously transferred by rail to the front. Unloading is carried out somewhere in the forest, on a camouflaged railway line, 60-70 kilometers from the front line. This thread needs to be destroyed. But this is not at all easy to do. The reconnaissance paratroopers did not return from the mission. Aviation reconnaissance also cannot detect this branch: the camouflage is impeccable. The task is to find a secret railway line within three days and mark its location by hanging old bed linen on the trees.

They dressed me in civilian clothes and gave me a bundle of bed linen. It turned out to be a homeless teenager exchanging underwear for food. Crossed the front line at night with a group of scouts. They had their own task, and soon we parted. I made my way through the forest, along the main railway. Every 300-400 meters - paired fascist patrols. Pretty exhausted, I dozed off during the day and almost got caught. I woke up from a strong kick. Two policemen searched me and shook up the entire bale of linen. Several potatoes, a piece of bread and lard were discovered and were immediately taken away. They also grabbed a couple of pillowcases and towels with Belarusian embroidery. At parting they “blessed”: “Get out before they shoot you!”

On the third day I came across the bodies of the paratroopers that the pilot-lieutenant colonel had spoken about.

Soon my path was blocked by barbed wire. The restricted zone has begun. I walked along the wire for several kilometers until I came to the main railway line. We were lucky: a military train loaded with tanks slowly turned off the main path and disappeared between the trees. Here it is, a mysterious branch!

At night I climbed to the top of a tree growing at the junction of the railway line with the main highway and hung the first sheet there. By dawn I hung the bed linen in three more places. I marked the last point with my own shirt, tying it by the sleeves. Now it fluttered in the wind like a flag.

I sat on the tree until the morning. It was very scary, but most of all I was afraid of falling asleep and missing the reconnaissance plane. "Lavochkin-5" appeared on time. The Nazis did not touch him so as not to give themselves away. The plane circled for a long time, then passed over me, turned towards the front and waved its wings. It was a prearranged signal: “The branch is marked, go away - we’ll bomb!”

The next day I went to the Sluch River. There were no auxiliary boats to cross the river. In addition, on the opposite side the enemy guard's guardhouse was visible. About a kilometer to the north, an old wooden bridge with a single railway track could be seen. I decided to cross it on a German train: I’ll hitch up somewhere on the brake platform. I've already done this several times. There were sentries on both the bridge and along the railway. I decided to try my luck at the siding where trains stop to let oncoming people pass. He crawled, hiding behind the bushes, fortifying himself with strawberries along the way. And suddenly, right in front of me - a boot! I thought it was German. He began to crawl back, but then he heard a muffled report: “Another train is passing, comrade captain!”

It relieved my heart. I pulled the captain's boot, which seriously frightened him. We got to know each other: we crossed the front line together. From the haggard faces, I realized that the scouts had been at the bridge for more than one day, but could do nothing to destroy this crossing. The approaching train was unusual: the carriages were sealed, the SS guards. They're carrying ammunition! The train stopped to allow an oncoming ambulance train to pass. The machine gunners from the guards of the train with ammunition moved to the opposite side from us to see if there were any acquaintances among the wounded.

There were only a few seconds left before the explosion. I look at the burning ignition cord and think: I’m about to be torn to pieces! He jumped out of the box, slipped between the sentries, and off the bridge into the water! Diving over and over again, he swam with the flow. Shots from the sentries from the bridge echoed the machine gun fire of echelon SS men. And then my explosive went off. Cars with ammunition began to break as if in a chain. The firestorm consumed the bridge, the train, and the guards.

No matter how hard I tried to swim away, I was overtaken and picked up by a fascist guard boat. By the time he landed on the shore, not far from the guardhouse, I had already lost consciousness from the beating. The brutal Nazis crucified me: my hands and feet were nailed to the wall at the entrance. Our scouts saved me. They saw that I had survived the explosion, but had fallen into the hands of the guards. Having suddenly attacked the guardhouse, the Red Army soldiers recaptured me from the Germans. I woke up under the stove of a burnt Belarusian village. I learned that the scouts took me off the wall, wrapped me in a raincoat and carried me in their arms to the front line. Along the way we came across an enemy ambush. Many died in the quick battle. The wounded sergeant picked me up and carried me out of this hell. He hid me and, leaving me his machine gun, went to get water to treat my wounds. He was not destined to return...

Finally the hatch was opened. The guys pushed me to the surface first. Then they took turns diving into the icy water to hook the rope to the hooks. The sunken car was pulled out with great difficulty by two coupled "thirty-fours". During this ferry adventure, I met the pilot lieutenant colonel who had once sent me to find a secret railway line. How happy he was: “I’ve been looking for you for six months!” I gave my word: if I’m alive, I’ll definitely find it!

The tankers let me go to the air regiment for a day. I met the pilots who bombed that secret branch. They gave me chocolate and took me on a U-2 ride. Then the entire air regiment lined up, and I was solemnly awarded the Order of Glory, III degree. On the Seelow Heights, April 16, 1945, I had the opportunity to knock out Hitler's "tiger". At the intersection, two tanks came face to face. I was the gunner, fired the first sub-caliber shell and hit the “tiger” under the turret. The heavy armored “cap” flew off like a light ball.

On the same day, our tank was also knocked out. The crew, fortunately, survived completely. We changed the car and continued to participate in the battles. Of this, the second tank, only three survived:

By April 29, I was already in the fifth tank. Of his crew, only me was saved. The Faust cartridge exploded in the engine part of our combat vehicle. I was in the gunner's place. The driver grabbed me by the legs and threw me through the front hatch. After that, he began to get out on his own. But he didn’t have enough just a few seconds: the ammunition shells began to explode and the driver died. Woke up in the hospital on May 8th. The hospital was located in Karlshorst, opposite the building where the German Surrender Act was signed. None of us will forget this day. The wounded did not pay attention to the doctors, nurses, or their own wounds - they jumped, danced, hugged each other. Having laid me down on a sheet, they dragged me to the window to show how Marshal Zhukov came out after signing the surrender. Later, Keitel and his dejected retinue were brought out.

He returned to Moscow in the summer of 1945. For a long time I did not dare to enter my house on Begovaya Street: I did not write to my mother for more than two years, fearing that she would take me away from the front. I was afraid of nothing more than this meeting with her. I realized how much grief I had brought her! He entered silently, just as I was taught to do in reconnaissance. But my mother’s intuition turned out to be subtler - she turned around sharply, raised her head and for a long, long time, without looking away, looked at me, at my tunic, my awards:

Do you smoke? - she finally asked.

Yeah! - I lied to hide my embarrassment and not show tears.

Many years later I visited the place where the bridge was blown up. I found a lodge on the shore. It is all destroyed - just ruins. I walked around and examined the new bridge. Nothing reminded us of the terrible tragedy that took place here during the war. And I was the only one who was very, very sad...