Andrei Zagortsev special forces of the third world Russian trump cards. Andrey Vladimirovich Zagortsev Special Forces of the Third World War. Russian trumps. Survive by any means

Andrey Zagortsev

Special forces of the Third World. Russian trump cards

...

Of particular importance

Commander of the military districts,

Fleets, Fleets,

Strategic Commands

Intelligence report of the GRU General Staff of the USSR Ministry of Defense

12/13/1980 KP. Moscow card 1:1000 000

ed. 1972

Since June 1980, the international situation has continued to be tense. Despite all the measures taken by the Soviet government to regulate and stabilize relations with the NATO countries, in particular with the United States of America and Japan, the countries of the capitalist world continue to develop conflict situations. Having disrupted the holding of the International Olympic Games-80, the USA and Great Britain, taking advantage of the unstable situation in the Middle East and ignoring the demands of the progressive international community, conducted a military intervention of a number of countries in the Middle East. The People's Democratic Republic of Afghanistan, which had long-standing good neighborly relations with the Soviet Union, was occupied by the United Army Corps of the NATO countries. A number of amphibious landing operations have been carried out on the coasts of African countries that have chosen the democratic path of development and have begun cooperation with the socialist countries. In early September 1980, by decision of the US Congress, a large-scale operation was carried out to seize the island of Liberty Cuba. The communist regime, headed by the revolutionary leader F. Castro, according to bourgeois politicians, "was a direct threat to the prosperity, development and security of the entire free society." In the course of large-scale hostilities in the Caribbean to seize and occupy the island of Cuba, the American military destroyed and captured up to 3 thousand Soviet employees and specialists. The government of the island of Cuba, thanks to the efforts of Soviet sailors and pilots, was evacuated to the territory of the Soviet Union. A large-scale "guerrilla war" unfolded on the occupied island. Diplomats from the countries of the socialist camp, who were in the territories of NATO countries and countries sympathizing with the North Atlantic Alliance bloc, were mainly illegally detained and kept in places of detention in order to obtain information from them about the intentions of the government of the countries of the socialist camp. In November 1980, thanks to the efforts of Soviet diplomacy, an international Congress was held in Geneva between the countries participating in the nascent conflict. After the debate, an international agreement was reached on the inadmissibility of the use of nuclear weapons.

But due to the sudden claims of Japan on the territory of the Soviet Union, in particular the Kuril Islands, the southern part of Sakhalin Island and attempts to "peacefully capture" part of the Kuril Islands, the landing of several hundred fishing workers and the resulting border conflict, during which the Soviet border guards were destroyed all defendants who illegally crossed the border and tried to settle on Soviet territory. The international conflict has entered a new phase. Some of the capitalist countries of Europe at the same time expressed territorial claims against the countries of the socialist camp. The Federal Republic of Germany, with the support of the European United Corps, in early December 1980, with sudden attacks by tank units, broke through the Berlin Wall line in the capital of the GDR and began active hostilities in urban areas. At the same time, all the countries of the socialist camp of Europe were subjected to massive artillery strikes, bombing and assault strikes, without the use of nuclear weapons. In the Pacific region, Japan has begun conducting naval blocking operations on the Kuril Islands and the southern tip of Sakhalin Island. While maintaining agreements on the non-use of nuclear weapons, the countries of the North Atlantic Alliance and their allies officially announced the start of hostilities "to protect sacred freedoms and rights, return ancestral territories, equitable distribution of natural resources according to economic needs, and not according to the right of the countries of possession."

...

Of particular importance

Commander of the Far Eastern Front

Directive No.

02/11/1981 KP. Moscow card 1:500 000

ed. 1972

In order to build up the forces and means of reconnaissance (SPECIAL FORCES) of the Joint Command in the Far East region, from February 15, 1981, to begin the formation of a mixed-type special-purpose formation in accordance with the organizational and staffing structure of the directive of the GUMO of the USSR Ministry of Defense (No. __ dated __). The point of permanent deployment of the formation (13 arr. Special Forces) to determine the city of Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky (brigade headquarters). Marine detachments of special support of the village. Ozernovsky, pos. October. Separate special forces of the village. Palana, pos. Keys. Special purpose detachment (special headquarters) Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky. Mixed aviation squadron of the detachment for the withdrawal of the village. Yelizovo. Support units by decision of the Commander of the Far Eastern Fleet. The staffing of units and subunits of the formation is to be completed at the expense of the personnel of special-purpose formations with experience in combat operations and special events. At the expense of personnel trained in special-purpose training units, at the expense of personnel called up from the reserve, who previously served in formations and special-purpose units of military districts and fleets, units and subunits of combined arms and tank formations (armies) and flotillas, at the expense of personnel called up from the reserve who previously served in the positions of technical specialists of the diving and paratrooper services.

...

Top secret

Commander of the 13th detachment of Special Forces of the Far Eastern Front

(Joint Command of Troops and Forces in the region)

Combat Order No.

06/05/1981 KP. Moscow map 1:500 000 ed. 1972

2. In order to conduct special events behind enemy lines in the Pacific direction in the period from .... to ... prepare 1 special-purpose reconnaissance group to carry out missions of particular importance ...

Part one

My ears tingled and became deaf. The noise of the engines came as if through a pillow. There is absolutely no sense in the fact that the group is sitting in a pressurized cabin, although it is a little warmer ... There are only clouds in the porthole and the sea floating in rare “windows”.

The remaining two groups are in a huge cargo hold. At least you can stretch your legs and take a nap. On landing, I and three of my scouts were immediately driven into a pressurized cabin separately from everyone else. The container with the equipment was brought to the take-off by our KGB officer and the head of the special weapons service. Now I have to carry this backpack myself. He accepted, conducted a control examination, signed the acts and casually threw a heavy backpack by one strap over his shoulder. Major Talbukhin, the chief of special weapons, saw my careless attitude to the backpack, which contained equipment worth several Volga, tried to yell and even opened his mouth.

Stop it, Vanya, - the special officer interrupted him, - one hell, they are suicide bombers.

“Fuck! We are suicide bombers!!” Although, on the other hand, what else to expect - in my last detachment, where I served, half of the personnel died on the same day, when the withdrawal of groups across the front line began.

When our electronic warfare units “burned out” the posts of individual air defense radio battalions in a natural way, and attack and bomber aircraft literally rolled out border airfields, our AN-12 squadron with reconnaissance groups on board passed at maximum altitude. When the aviation brigades of the joint army corps nevertheless came to their senses and the "British" Tornados were the first to jump, our flight and lifting equipment was already over Kandahar. The landing went "successfully". Half of the groups were thrown directly onto the city. Some of the scouts died in the air. Then the SAS, Gurkhas and motorized battalions of the Afghan police chased our Special Forces RG for several weeks. Someone was covered with fire from patrol helicopters, someone was driven almost to the very mountains. Nobody gave up. Communication was jammed on all frequencies. KaeMki and Severki were absolutely useless.

I was then still a brat-flyer, just released from the Tambov Military Special School, on fire along with the plane and yelled, bulging my eyes with fear. The plane, blowing clouds of smoke and sparking with both engines, fell from a height of several kilometers down. Enemy fighters flickering nearby poured machine guns and rapid-fire cannons over the helpless carcass of the plane. The senior on the withdrawal of the groups, the major of the airborne equipment service of the brigade, was crawling along the duralumin floor, clinging with one hand, and was yelling something at me. He simply didn’t have a second hand - either it was torn off by a machine-gun burst that pierced through the plane, or it was cut off by fragments. The blue flight jacket is covered in blood. He screams something, crawls towards me, and all I can do is grab the edge of the bench with my hands and yell “Pizdetsst”, banging my jaw on the back of the AKM-S, and look with wild eyes at the plane falling apart in the air.

Pehootiin, - the major, who had crawled up to me, was already barely hoarse, - jump on dick! Everyone overboard!

How?? - I yelled in horror, looking askance at the mess of bones and meat of a severed arm, - the cables were all cut off to hell! We're out of stock.

T-rip out the stabilizer! Hold it in your hand, throw it closer to the ground! Push the fighters out too, damn...

The major began to tear the jacket on his chest with his remaining hand, he was thrown up by the rushing air stream. Still, I wanted to live: I forced myself to tear myself away from the bench, unhook the stabilizing carbine. Shouting in my ear what to do, I pulled off the covers, put the stabilizers in my hands and pushed the fighters into a huge hole in the torn off ramp. Dropped three. AN began to dive, and as if in weightlessness I hovered near the very edge. With a superhuman effort, he unfastened the carabiners of the cargo container. The plane crashed. I rushed to the ground, spinning and somersaulting. The feathers and halyard of the stabilizer passed under my arm, the parachute in the case pounded in the face. He pressed his elbows, grabbed the stabilizer and almost tore the case. He squeezed the blossoming dome with his palm, twisted his hand, took the other aside. I turned over my head, and I "lay down" in the air. The area of the stabilizing dome is still one and a half meters and it will not fit in the palm of your hand. I began to fill up in the direction of the left empty hand. Just don't lose consciousness! Where is she, the earth? You can't see shit. How to navigate when to release? Fuck. I'm releasing a stabilizer. Pulls me by the collar. I press my legs, hands with open palms in front of me. Normal stabilized fall, slightly twists. The fragments of the plane went down. Somewhere in the night sky alien fighter jets are humming and whistling. I didn’t have time to put on my glasses, they hang around my neck, my eyes are watery. Out of the corner of my eye I notice a blooming dome flower below me. Still, someone was able to open up. British pilots arrange hunting. In the air "ink" chains of tracers rush to the dome. Damn, not a single device.

The liver began to shake inside. And fuck it! Come what may!

Still, I landed normally and didn’t even break anything. The main dome of the D-fifth came out without any problems. "Dubishche" - the most reliable parachute! The dome had to be hidden in some kind of hole, covered with stones and run, run, straining all your strength, to the nearest rocks. Soon some US "armored cavalrymen" in helicopters will jump here and start combing. And even the “Britons” will throw their Gurkhas. They will catch me, Lieutenant Pekhotin, and cut off whatever they want with their crooked knives. Purely so - for souvenirs!

I turned on my command station only the next day, after sitting for several hours in a rocky cave. Not much was saved from our board. I and Sergeant Uldugov from the second group of our company - a short, lean Chechen from Grozny. A week later, three more scouts were picked up from other aircraft. Work began only a month later, when a reconnaissance detachment was formed from the remnants of the defeated and driven groups, which was headed by our deputy battalion commander, who survived the landing, who led a company of the Afghan police for a week. The reconnaissance team was called "Ilyich". Not in honor of the General Secretary, but in memory of the deceased commander of the detachment - Lieutenant Colonel Ilyich Vladlen Igorevich ...

Why did our politicians squander this Afghan? Out of the corner of my ear from the political officers I heard that at several plenums the question of bringing in troops was really considered. An no. Gone from a politically immature decision.

Making my way to the Salang pass, ragged like a dervish in a homemade turban and dragging on my back the backpack of a SAS man killed in one of the ambush, I cursed myself for not going to the faculty of electronic intelligence. Or, at worst, marine. At least there is water around. And then… brrr!! The agitator of the detachment says that our troops have now completely occupied rebellious Romania, and the Red Banner Black Sea Fleet has already carried out several successful landing operations on the coast of Egypt and Algeria. Why are politicians calving, why are they wise? A few rockets - and the earth's ball is tryndets. How the hell are we so lucky. Why were all these nuclear bombs and missiles invented? No, that's it! Nobody decides. And we… what are we? Yes, damn it, meat.

The reconnaissance detachment "Ilyich" nevertheless reached the pass, which had already been stormed by units of the Turkestan district.

There was a continuous meat grinder in the air. We still managed to take over and provide landing sites for the paratroopers of the 57th Airborne Brigade. The assault brigade, with the support of their helicopters, swept ahead. Motorized rifle regiments, one by one, rolled through the pass and moved on and on. We were evacuated. A week was tormented by special officers, driving through "primary" and other interrogations. Then they calmed down. In other front-line spetsnaz brigades, the losses were no less. Training in Pesochka near Leningrad, Tyumen, Pechora, Baku, Chirchik, Kyiv, Tambov schools did not have time to supply specialists. Half of the training sessions were deployed in the first six months after the start of the war.

A little less than half of the squad remained. And even then, most of the economic, repair units and signalmen of the central stations.

After resting for half a month in a dispensary in the most peaceful and calm corner of the USSR - the mountainous Vedeno of the Chechen-Ingush Republic - I was sent to the Far Eastern Front, where a new mixed-type brigade was being formed in Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky with a separate detachment in the city of Palana.

Two detachments in the brigade were naval, two land. A withdrawal and fire support battalion was also formed. The structure for the spetsnaz brigades was new. The Joint Command of the Troops and Forces did not conduct large-scale actions in the region. So, the Kuril Islands, captured in the first days of the war, were slowly recaptured and repelled air raids by the Japanese and the Americans. A large-scale war was not yet planned here. All combatant countries watched with interest the bored army of China. Where the multi-million dollar PLA will turn - from this one should plan a defense or offensive. The Japanese in the eighty-first year, literally in the first months of the war, tried to pour a couple of parachute regiments into Yuzhno-Kurilsk, but the planes were shot down while still in the air. The Kuril division fiercely defended the islands for several months, being practically in an air and sea blockade. Azerbaijanis, Dagestanis, Chechens, Ukrainians - the main contingent of the division's conscripts - often rushed hand-to-hand with small infantry shovels and bayonet-knives at undersized Japanese marines. Knowledge of karate and judo, excellent equipment and training gave in to the dagger fire of the Maxim machine guns, removed from storage, and wild cries: “Alla Akbar! Mykola, beat him with a shovel.”

The senior officer on the withdrawal of the groups, an officer of the VDF from the withdrawal support battalion, appeared from the cargo compartment, examined my group and, with a mysterious look, as if he was afraid of something, launched another officer into the pressurized cabin. Who is this? It seems that he was not noted anywhere in the preparation process, although the face is familiar. In my opinion, from the intelligence and information department of the headquarters. Is he going to the task with us? The officer who reappeared busily looked around and took out from a steel box of a safe in the corner of the cabin a plump paper envelope, sealed with many seals and stitched in several places. He held the envelope under his arm and sat down next to me on the bench.

Major Fomin, Chief of Information, - he yelled in my ear, introducing himself, - I worked on the information support of your group, now I will dedicate you to the details.

The Major tore open the envelope and handed me several photographs.

Study! Here is all the latest that air and space reconnaissance has collected.

Your mother! During the additional training of the group for the task, they suffered from nonsense. Either they received related professions of radio operators, then they memorized the forms of interrogations, then the speeches of the general secretary. At sea training, rowing boats of various types as part of a troika, studied inflatable rafts and sailing equipment to bloody calluses. Studied orienteering and laying courses at sea. My operational officer only shrugged his shoulders at the demands to get maps of the areas of the upcoming task. The KGB officer of the detachment now and then appeared somewhere close to the location of the group and sensitively "drifted his nose."

Then, of course, something became clear. I was pulled out to study special equipment brought all the way from Leningrad itself. A fashionable senior lieutenant with a "White Guard" mustache began to teach me, talking about some kind of "chains". I almost lost my mind, and as a result of this "training", the starley was sent to hell by me. The second one who arrived from Leningrad, a tall, imposing man in a rank that was unclear to me, went in a naval jacket without shoulder straps, acted much easier. In a few words he explained the purpose of the device: how it turns on, how it turns off, it is checked for operability by “tests”, where to insert batteries. The complex of the equipment I studied fit perfectly in the "miner's" backpack, although it weighed a lot. The main purpose is to automatically listen to the enemy's operating frequencies and relay them to our receiving center. At a certain time, a special encrypted command is sent from our center and the devices of the complex cut out all sources of radio emission within a radius of several kilometers.

Based on the fact that I had to study the equipment that was not in service with special forces brigades, the conclusion naturally arose that my first task in the Kamchatka brigade would be related to disabling any enemy objects with the help of this tricky contraption.

So, here it is an extract from the order of the detachment commander. Aha! Well, as expected, disable the enemy airfield with the help of electronic countermeasures... Stop! Aerodrome! And based on the theater of operations, the nearest airfields are only in Alaska.

I put the extract aside and looked in bewilderment at the "informant" major. He nodded to me, offering to study the documents further.

Watch and read carefully! Then I'll tell you a couple of interesting stories.

I had to keep studying. Here it is, the area. No, not Alaska. Even worse - an island in the Pacific Ocean. So, here they are on the map, our Commander, captured by the expeditionary division of the United States Marine Corps at the very beginning. Here is the island. Here's an aerial photograph. Quite decent quality. Interestingly, it was made from a space satellite or from a reconnaissance aircraft. Most likely from a satellite. In space, we did not give anyone a descent. It turned out that some of our satellites for scientific purposes are capable of not only photographing the globe from different angles, but can also disable other people's satellites. And at our orbital stations, the cosmonauts not only eat their rations in tubes, but do many other things. Natural fantasy.

This is such a bummer, colleagues. I wanted after the abstruse Pelevin, a dashing and simple action movie. I chose literally by the name and annotation, and I broke off so tightly. However, gut to gut, in order.

First the plot. It seems to be easier? The intrigue, one might say, is academic - the return of the native island (city, village, planet, galaxy), captured by the adversary. The special forces are clearing the way for the cavalry. How much is written about this, both in dramatic prose and in SF. So no, the author drowns, in principle, a simple storyline in unnecessary details, dedicating us to the mysteries of cooking, hunting, looting, drug addiction, alcoholism, and so on. As a result, about 10% of a considerable amount of text is allocated to the popular action.

The scenery is low and terrible. It looks either like an operation plan drawn up by an armchair general, or like a combat sheet of a unit written in 1952 that way. Basically, a dull and boring presentation of events, of which, as already mentioned, 10% are significant. Even towards the end, when the drive seems to appear, the motivation for the actions of the characters is so delusional that there is a minimum of pleasure.

Is this written in 2011? The idea of the Americans, at the level of the pioneer squad of the late 30s.

Continuous slovenliness, drug addiction, the humiliation of blacks and some mysterious "Eskimos", a complete incapacity for military action. How did these poor fellows capture the island?

His heroes hit the enemy exclusively with butt blows and a small sapper shovel. But if they are already starting to shoot, 3-4 adversaries fall from each shot. A short burst lays down a platoon or shoots down 2-3 armored helicopters. To disable a military airfield, the Chukchi with a Mosin rifle are enough. The entire defense system of the island, including all communications, within a radius of 10 km, two air defense bases, a squadron of boats, anti-submarine barriers are disabled by 7 saboteurs, mired in the space youth consciousness and friendship of peoples. Moreover, without the slightest plans, acting on a whim. Why they were sent to the island, they do not quite know, but being quick-witted, they almost finish off the enemy themselves. If someone dies, then it needs no less than a company of marines, or the FBI SWAT special forces (which, in violation of the constitution, somehow ended up outside the United States?).

And now, when the cavalry arrived in time, as part of the 2nd landing battalions, forced the brigade of marines to surrender, it turns out that the purpose of the operation was a typical criminal act - the export of dug up Yankee platinum. In general, I do not recommend. Loss of time. Parioticism, patriotism, but one should also be able to write.

Andrey Zagortsev.

Special forces of the Third World. Russian trump cards

Part One: Landing

Stop it, Vanya, - the special officer interrupted him, - one hell, they are suicide bombers.

"Fuck it! We're suicide bombers!!" Although, on the other hand, what else to expect - in my last detachment, where I served, half of the personnel died on the same day, when the withdrawal of groups across the front line began.

* * *

When our electronic warfare troops naturally "burned out" the posts of individual air defense radio battalions, and attack and bomber aircraft literally rolled out border airfields, our AN-12 squadron with reconnaissance groups on board passed at maximum altitude. When the aviation brigades of the joint army corps nevertheless came to their senses and the "British" Tornados were the first to jump, our flight and lifting equipment was already over Kandahar. The landing went "successfully". Half of the groups were thrown directly onto the city. Some of the scouts died in the air. Then the SAS, Gurkhas and motorized battalions of the Afghan police chased our Special Forces RG for several weeks. Someone was covered with fire from patrol helicopters, someone was driven almost to the very mountains. Nobody gave up. Communication was jammed on all frequencies. KaeMki and Severka were absolutely useless.

I was then still a brat-flyer, just released from the Tambov Military Special School, on fire along with the plane and yelled, bulging my eyes with fear. The plane, blowing clouds of smoke and sparking with both engines, fell from a height of several kilometers down. Enemy fighters flickering nearby poured machine guns and rapid-fire cannons over the helpless carcass of the plane. The senior on the withdrawal of the groups, the major of the airborne equipment service of the brigade, was crawling along the duralumin floor, clinging with one hand, and was yelling something at me. He simply did not have a second hand - either it was torn off by a machine-gun burst that pierced through the plane, or it was cut off by fragments. The blue flight jacket is covered in blood. He screams something, crawls towards me, and all I can do is grab onto the edge of the bench with my hands and yell "Pizdetssts", banging my jaw on the back of the AKM-S, and look with wild eyes at the plane falling apart in the air.

Pehootiin, - the major, who had crawled up to me, was already barely hoarse, - jump on dick! everyone overboard!

How?? - I yelled in horror, looking askance at the mess of bones and meat of a severed arm, - the cables were all cut off to hell! we don't have spares.

T-rip out the stabilizer! hold it in your hand, throw it closer to the ground! push the fighters out too, damn it...

The major began to tear the jacket on his chest with his remaining hand, he was thrown up by the rushing air stream. Still, I wanted to live: I forced myself to tear myself away from the bench, unhook the stabilizing carbine. Shouting in my ear what to do, I pulled off the covers, put the stabilizers in my hands and pushed the fighters into a huge hole in the torn off ramp. Dropped three. AN began to dive, and as if in weightlessness, I hovered near the very edge. With a superhuman effort, he unfastened the carabiners of the cargo container. The plane crashed. I rushed to the ground, spinning and somersaulting. The feathers and halyard of the stabilizer went through my armpit, the parachute in the case pounded in the face. He pressed his elbows, grabbed the stabilizer and almost tore the case. He squeezed the blossoming dome with his palm, twisted his hand, took the other aside. I turned over my head and I "lay down" in the air. The area of the stabilizing dome is still one and a half meters and it will not fit in the palm of your hand. I began to fill up in the direction of the left empty hand. Just don't lose consciousness! Where is she, the earth? You can't see shit. How to navigate when to release? Fuck. I'm releasing a stabilizer. Pulls me by the collar. I press my legs, hands with open palms in front of me. Normal stabilized fall, slightly twists. The fragments of the plane went down. Somewhere in the night sky alien fighter jets are humming and whistling. I didn’t have time to put on my glasses, they hang around my neck, my eyes are watery. Out of the corner of my eye I notice a blooming dome flower below me. Still, someone was able to open up. British pilots arrange hunting. In the air "ink" chains of tracers rush to the dome. Damn, not a single device.

Inside began to shake "liver". And fuck it! come what may!

Still, I landed normally and didn’t even break anything. The main dome of D-5 came out without any problems. "Dubishche" - the most reliable parachute! The dome had to be hidden in some kind of hole, covered with stones and run, run, straining all your strength, to the nearest rocks. Soon some US "armored cavalrymen" will jump here in helicopters and start combing. And even the "Britons" will throw their Gurkhas. They will catch me, Lieutenant Pekhotin, and cut off whatever they want with their crooked knives. Purely so - for souvenirs!

Making my way to the Salang Pass, ragged like a dervish in a makeshift turban, and dragging on my back the backpack of a SAS man killed in one of the ambush, I cursed myself for not going to the faculty of electronic intelligence. Or, at worst, marine. At least there is water around. And then ... brrr!! The agitator of the detachment says that our troops have now completely occupied rebellious Romania, and the Red Banner Black Sea Fleet has already carried out several successful landing operations on the coast of Egypt and Algeria. Why are politicians calving, why are they wise? A few rockets - and the earth's ball is tryndets. How the hell are we so lucky. Why were all these nuclear bombs and missiles invented? No, that's it! Nobody decides. And we... what are we? Yes, damn it, meat.

The reconnaissance detachment "Ilyich" nevertheless reached the pass, which had already been stormed by units of the Turkestan district. There was a continuous meat grinder in the air. We still managed to take over and provide landing sites for the paratroopers of the 57th Airborne Brigade. The assault brigade, with the support of their helicopters, swept ahead. Motorized rifle regiments, one by one, rolled through the pass and moved on and on. We were evacuated. Special officers tormented me for a week, chasing them through "primary" and other interrogations. Then they calmed down. In other front-line spetsnaz brigades, the losses were no less. Training in Pesochka near Leningrad, Tyumen, Pechora, Baku Chirchik, Kyiv, Tambov schools did not have time to supply specialists. Half of the training sessions were deployed in the first six months after the start of the war.

A little less than half of the squad remained. And even then, most of the economic, repair units and signalmen of the central stations.

Two detachments in the brigade were naval, two land. A withdrawal and fire support battalion was also formed. The structure for the spetsnaz brigades was new. The Joint Command of the Troops and Forces did not conduct large-scale actions in the region. So, they slowly recaptured the Kuriles captured in the first days of the war, and repelled air raids by the Japanese and Americans. A large-scale war was not yet planned here. All combatant countries watched with interest the bored army of China. Where the multi-million dollar PLA will turn - from this one should plan a defense or offensive. The Japanese in the eighty-first year, literally in the first months of the war, tried to send a couple of parachute regiments to Yuzhno-Kurilsk, but the planes were shot down in the air. The Kuril division fiercely defended the islands for several months, being practically in an air and sea blockade. Azerbaijanis, Dagestanis, Chechens, Ukrainians - the main contingent of the division's conscripts - often rushed hand-to-hand with small infantry shovels and bayonet-knives at undersized Japanese marines. Knowledge of karate and judo, excellent equipment and training gave in to the dagger fire of the Maxim machine guns, removed from storage, and wild cries: "Alla Akbar! Mykola, beat him with a shovel."

Books enlighten the soul, uplift and strengthen a person, awaken the best aspirations in him, sharpen his mind and soften his heart.

William Thackeray, English satirist

The book is a great power.

Vladimir Ilyich Lenin, Soviet revolutionary

Without books, we now can neither live, nor fight, nor suffer, nor rejoice and win, nor confidently move towards that reasonable and wonderful future in which we unshakably believe.

Many thousands of years ago, in the hands of the best representatives of mankind, the book became one of the main weapons of their struggle for truth and justice, and it was this weapon that gave these people terrible strength.

Nikolai Rubakin, Russian bibliologist, bibliographer.

The book is a tool. But not only. It introduces people to the life and struggle of other people, makes it possible to understand their experiences, their thoughts, their aspirations; it makes it possible to compare, understand the environment and transform it.

Stanislav Strumilin, Academician of the USSR Academy of Sciences

There is no better remedy for refreshing the mind than reading the ancient classics; as soon as you take one of them in your hands, even if for half an hour, you immediately feel refreshed, lightened and cleansed, uplifted and strengthened, as if refreshed by bathing in a pure spring.

Arthur Schopenhauer, German philosopher

Those who were not familiar with the creations of the ancients lived without knowing beauty.

Georg Hegel, German philosopher

No failures of history and deaf spaces of time are able to destroy human thought, fixed in hundreds, thousands and millions of manuscripts and books.

Konstantin Paustovsky, Russian Soviet writer

The book is magic. The book changed the world. It contains the memory of the human race, it is the mouthpiece of human thought. A world without a book is a world of savages.

Nikolai Morozov, creator of modern scientific chronology

Books are the spiritual testament of one generation to another, the advice of a dying old man to a young man who begins to live, an order transmitted by sentries going on vacation to sentries who take his place.

Without books, human life is empty. The book is not only our friend, but also our constant, eternal companion.

Demyan Bedny, Russian Soviet writer, poet, publicist

The book is a powerful tool of communication, labor, struggle. It equips man with the experience of the life and struggle of mankind, expands his horizon, gives him knowledge with which he can make the forces of nature serve him.

Nadezhda Krupskaya, Russian revolutionary, Soviet party, public and cultural figure.

Reading good books is a conversation with the best people of the past, and, moreover, such a conversation when they tell us only their best thoughts.

René Descartes, French philosopher, mathematician, physicist and physiologist

Reading is one of the sources of thinking and mental development.

Vasily Sukhomlinsky, an outstanding Soviet teacher and innovator.

Reading is to the mind what exercise is to the body.

Joseph Addison, English poet and satirist

A good book is like a conversation with an intelligent person. The reader receives from her knowledge and generalization of reality, the ability to understand life.

Alexei Tolstoy, Russian Soviet writer and public figure

Don't forget that the most colossal tool of all-round education is reading.

Alexander Herzen, Russian publicist, writer, philosopher

Without reading there is no real education, there is not and cannot be any taste, or a word, or a multilateral breadth of understanding; Goethe and Shakespeare are equal to the whole university. Reading man survives centuries.

Alexander Herzen, Russian publicist, writer, philosopher

Here you will find audiobooks by Russian, Soviet, Russian and foreign writers on various topics! We have collected for you masterpieces of literature from and. Also on the site there are audio books with poems and poets, lovers of detectives and action movies, audio books will find interesting audio books for themselves. We can offer women, and for women, we will periodically offer fairy tales and audio books from the school curriculum. Children will also be interested in audio books about. We also have something to offer for lovers: audiobooks of the Stalker, Metro 2033 ... series, and much more from. Who wants to tickle his nerves: go to the section

Andrey Zagortsev.

Special forces of the Third World. Russian trump cards

Part One: Landing

Stop it, Vanya, - the special officer interrupted him, - one hell, they are suicide bombers.

* * *

I was then still a brat-flyer, just released from the Tambov Military Special School, on fire along with the plane and yelled, bulging my eyes with fear. The plane, blowing clouds of smoke and sparking with both engines, fell from a height of several kilometers down. Enemy fighters flickering nearby poured machine guns and rapid-fire cannons over the helpless carcass of the plane. The senior on the withdrawal of the groups, the major of the airborne equipment service of the brigade, was crawling along the duralumin floor, clinging with one hand, and was yelling something at me. He simply did not have a second hand - either it was torn off by a machine-gun burst that pierced through the plane, or it was cut off by fragments. The blue flight jacket is covered in blood. He screams something, crawls towards me, and all I can do is grab onto the edge of the bench with my hands and yell "Pizdetssts", banging my jaw on the back of the AKM-S, and look with wild eyes at the plane falling apart in the air.

Pehootiin, - the major, who had crawled up to me, was already barely hoarse, - jump on dick! everyone overboard!

How?? - I yelled in horror, looking askance at the mess of bones and meat of a severed arm, - the cables were all cut off to hell! we don't have spares.

T-rip out the stabilizer! hold it in your hand, throw it closer to the ground! push the fighters out too, damn it...

The major began to tear the jacket on his chest with his remaining hand, he was thrown up by the rushing air stream. Still, I wanted to live: I forced myself to tear myself away from the bench, unhook the stabilizing carbine. Shouting in my ear what to do, I pulled off the covers, put the stabilizers in my hands and pushed the fighters into a huge hole in the torn off ramp. Dropped three. AN began to dive, and as if in weightlessness, I hovered near the very edge. With a superhuman effort, he unfastened the carabiners of the cargo container. The plane crashed. I rushed to the ground, spinning and somersaulting. The feathers and halyard of the stabilizer went through my armpit, the parachute in the case pounded in the face. He pressed his elbows, grabbed the stabilizer and almost tore the case. He squeezed the blossoming dome with his palm, twisted his hand, took the other aside. I turned over my head and I "lay down" in the air. The area of the stabilizing dome is still one and a half meters and it will not fit in the palm of your hand. I began to fill up in the direction of the left empty hand. Just don't lose consciousness! Where is she, the earth? You can't see shit. How to navigate when to release? Fuck. I'm releasing a stabilizer. Pulls me by the collar. I press my legs, hands with open palms in front of me. Normal stabilized fall, slightly twists. The fragments of the plane went down. Somewhere in the night sky alien fighter jets are humming and whistling. I didn’t have time to put on my glasses, they hang around my neck, my eyes are watery. Out of the corner of my eye I notice a blooming dome flower below me. Still, someone was able to open up. British pilots arrange hunting. In the air "ink" chains of tracers rush to the dome. Damn, not a single device.

Inside began to shake "liver". And fuck it! come what may!

A little less than half of the squad remained. And even then, most of the economic, repair units and signalmen of the central stations.

Two detachments in the brigade were naval, two land. A withdrawal and fire support battalion was also formed. The structure for the spetsnaz brigades was new. The Joint Command of the Troops and Forces did not conduct large-scale actions in the region. So, they slowly recaptured the Kuriles captured in the first days of the war, and repelled air raids by the Japanese and Americans. A large-scale war was not yet planned here. All combatant countries watched with interest the bored army of China. Where the multi-million dollar PLA will turn - from this one should plan a defense or offensive. The Japanese in the eighty-first year, literally in the first months of the war, tried to send a couple of parachute regiments to Yuzhno-Kurilsk, but the planes were shot down in the air. The Kuril division fiercely defended the islands for several months, being practically in an air and sea blockade. Azerbaijanis, Dagestanis, Chechens, Ukrainians - the main contingent of the division's conscripts - often rushed hand-to-hand with small infantry shovels and bayonet-knives at undersized Japanese marines. Knowledge of karate and judo, excellent equipment and training gave in to the dagger fire of the Maxim machine guns, removed from storage, and wild cries: "Alla Akbar! Mykola, beat him with a shovel."