You probably will not argue that we, military sailors, and civilians too, are the most vulnerable part of society in terms of the safety of family relationships. Once I read about a Norwegian, the conqueror of the Arctic, I don’t remember her last name, who said an interesting phrase. Her meaning boiled down to the fact that she conquered the North, but she could never be the wife of a sailor, because not every woman will be able to withstand a long separation, nature will take its toll, well, it is impossible for a young woman to be a nun in the world. I don’t know how to love a man in order to remain faithful to him when there are a lot of hefty stallions around with peaks at the ready. But it happens that the woman remains on top, and the man is shit.

So. We had an absolutely positive lieutenant on the ship, now they are called “nerds”. Didn't smoke, didn't even drink beer, studied English language and, perhaps, knew him perfectly, in any case, English literature I read it in the original, I saw it myself. On vacation with his wife, he went to camp sites, where they went hiking and climbed mountains. In general, there was not a single speck on his "image of morality."

It was on this "nerd" that our special officer had his eye. What else is needed? Like all of us, he is devoted to the cause of the CPSU and the Soviet government, but, unlike us, he does not drink, does not smoke, and has not been noticed in anything reprehensible. Hooray! And the special officer recommended him to his office as a future employee. And Vova-botan gathered for knowledge in the city of Novosibirsk, because neophytes were attached to the great caste there. But, before changing career guidance, he went on another vacation, as usual, to a camp site. With my wife.

After taking a vacation and gaining the necessary amount of health, the family was gathering to a new duty station. Vova says to his wife: “Darling, come immediately to Novosibirsk, and I will send the container from home myself. It makes no sense for two to drag on Far East, and then to Novosibirsk. The wife said, “That makes sense. I listen and obey".

But it is not in vain that they say that in a still pool, you yourself know who is found. Once Vova, being a cadet of the first or second year of the naval bursa, met with one girl, and she simply threw him away when a fifth-year student loomed on the horizon. Also reasonable. It’s not for me to tell you - why the hell is she a first-second-year jerk, who needs to be brought up and courted for a few more years, and here is a ready-made lieutenant with a salary, like a miner with experience! And the new family left for the Far East.

Vova married a very interesting girl, they had a daughter. According to the distribution, Vova ended up in the same place where the woman who threw him had lived for several years. With family, of course. Our small town, they could not meet. In general, feelings flared up again, and from feelings-with people they can do a lot of stupid things. In short: “If you drown, or stick to p ... stick, it’s difficult at first, and then you get used to it.” Vova stuck and got used to it.

The fornicators decided that they would go to Novosibirsk together, and he would introduce her as his wife, and then, you see, everything would settle down. The husband of Vova's passion was in military service. There were children, she had two of them. But then the wives of officers always helped each other out. And this time the woman came to her friend and asked her to look after the children, she would be away for a day or two. There was nothing unusual about the request, and the friend agreed. In general, the wife runs away with a passing lieutenant, as in sentimental novels. The children stayed with a neighbor. The mother was not going to return. Why she did this is still a mystery. And Vova, you know, stuck to the female genital organ and therefore did not understand anything.

But he was a noble man and a great fool. Before leaving, he writes a letter to his lawful wife. The same as in sentimental novels: they say, forgive me, all my life I loved only her, and he married you out of hopelessness and despair. It is at least unpleasant for any woman to hear this, and Vova’s wife was a woman who was not only outwardly interesting, but, unlike his passion, she had something in her head. She did not tear up the letter received from her lawful husband in annoyance, as a less intelligent woman would have done, but carefully preserved it. And immediately returned to the place of residence. There she appeared in a special department and, presenting a letter, caught up with a rustle: “How did Felix Edmundovich teach you? Clean hands!!! The man left his family and went with a whore to your holy of holies!!! How did you let this happen?!"

To the honor of the special officers, they reacted promptly and adequately. We were not afraid to sully the honor of the uniform. Although the order to enroll Vova in their camp was signed by the biggest boss, nevertheless, in a matter of days it was canceled, and Vova was expelled for low moral qualities. He returned to the ship, but there was already another person on his staff. Therefore, Vova was accepted back, but taken out of the state, that is, he received money only for his small rank. He was expelled from the party for the same moral qualities. At a party meeting, his uterus was twisted masterfully and completely, and this story became public, because only our party organs and Catholic inquisitors could twist the insides of a person with such pleasure and put them on public display. Or am I wrong?

A neighbor, after sitting with the children for several days, raised the alarm. Husband pulled off the ship Indian Ocean and promptly delivered to the place of residence. Other relatives were also called ... In general, the family united again. The lady returned to her husband. Who would dare to throw a stone at her? He accepted it. And now they live, but I don’t know if they are happy.

And Vova was settled in my cabin, and after a while we began to communicate, but we didn’t touch on past events at all. He is closed, and I do not like to climb into a person’s soul. And only once Vova asked:

“Do you think if I try to return to my family, I will succeed?”

- I do not know. I said honestly. - Women tend to forgive, you should at least try.

Vova did nothing. Subsequently, he went to another ship, but, in my opinion, he rose to the rank only to a drop *. His wife lived alone, according to neighbors and friends, she did not meet with anyone, and after two or three years she left for her homeland with her daughter.

* lieutenant commander (captain)

Reviews

Anything happens.
I had a friend - a marine officer somewhere near Vladik.
You know yourself - marines on large ships, dowries. They went on a campaign, six months later he returns - there is a note on the table, his wife is gone.
Married for the second time. After the next campaign - the same picture.
He never married again.

Grigory, this is not only among sailors.
Here is a typical episode for you.
Grozny. Second Chechen. Call center at Severny airport. Just opened, two booths, satellite connection, expensive. There is a crowd on the porch, there is just no one: special forces, riot police, SOBR, intelligence ... Chatting, flasks in a circle, smoke in a column.
One of the officers called home.
- Hello! Hello! Are you son?
Call Mom!
- There is no mother. And who are you?
- Like who? I am your dad!
- Nope. Dad is washing in the bathroom.
And you are an uncle.

I don't know with what heart he came home.

By chance, this turned out to be our first and last night of love with Ira. The next day, Kostya abandoned his passion and returned to his family. After that, I still often visited them, but, of course, both I and Irina kept our secret.

P.S. Four years have passed since that night. We moved to another area of ​​the city and have not seen Kostya and Ira for three years. Literally by chance, they dropped in on us "for a light", and now, when everyone was already pretty drunk, Ira gave out the phrase: "The fact that Kostya left me was a big plus - I found out what a real man is." And all this time she looked directly into my eyes. Thank God that our other halves took it as a drunken chatter in order to annoy Kostya.

officer's wife

Title: officer's wife

The withdrawal of our troops from Mongolia was the most difficult period of my service. We left the inhabited military town and left for no one knows where, it’s good that I was given a wagon-caravan, since I commanded the signalmen’s department at the regiment headquarters. True, it was difficult to call it a department - only four people: three demobilized (Karasev, Poluchko and Zhmerin) and one salaga (Starkov). And in this composition, plus me and my wife Tanya, with all state-owned equipment and personal property, we had to travel across Siberia to a new location in the Ural Military District.

Everyone was engaged in loading together, I drove all my belongings on a cart to the wagon with Private Starkov, where the other three soldiers, under the guidance of my wife, loaded everything inside. And as I rolled the cart around the corner, I stopped to rest and wait for Starkov, who ran back to get the things I had dropped in the confusion. From here I had a beautiful view of the platform, where my wife told the three demobilized people how to carefully load the cabinet with a glass door, and they listened to her lazily, from time to time looking sideways at her body covered with sports tights.

Come on boys, let's get it! And you Valera accept!

Karasev jumped into the car, preparing to receive the load, while Poluchko and Zhmerin began clumsily lifting the cabinet.

Oh, be careful! - shouted Tanya, rushing to hold the unexpectedly opened glass door. - Why are you so!

After most of the cabinet was lifted into the car, the soldiers relaxed and winked at my wife.

Allow me, we’ll lift it up from here, ”said Zhmerin, as if by chance coming up behind and grabbing my wife by the chest, while Poluchko was pawing her buttocks in the same manner.

Well, let it go! Tatyana shouted sternly, slapping Zhmerin's hands.

The soldiers immediately moved away from her, hesitating.

You look to dissolve your hands! I'm not thinking for a long time, I can complain about you, or even hit me with something!

“Well, it seems to be starting,” flashed through my head, although I didn’t have time to think about what exactly was starting. Starkov came and we rolled the cart to the car.

I remembered this incident already on the road, when, having fenced off the snoring fighters with a screen, my wife and I went to sleep on the mattress prepared for this.

"But what if you leave her alone, alone with them? Will they rape her or be afraid?" I thought, "But what the hell is going on in my head! This is probably from the fact that I haven't made love for a long time."

I tried to kiss my wife on the lips, but she turned away.

Lesha, don't! Your soldiers are sleeping nearby.

Yes, they will not hear anything, they are sleeping without hind legs. Namayalis see much for the day. I pressed.

I'm tired too. - Tatyana resolutely stopped my encroachments.

But the chance to leave his wife with the soldiers was not long in coming. Arriving on the territory of the Union, we stopped at the location of one part railway troops For undefined period. There was nowhere to accommodate, so all of our people continued to live in wagons. And somehow, one Sunday, I had to be on duty at the headquarters, which was at the railwaymen. Of course, I went there not without fear, leaving my wife in the care of the soldiers, but everything seemed to be fine, and besides, I did not sit there for long. A railway officer came who had some paperwork there and offered to stay at the headquarters instead of me, especially since it is unlikely that anyone will disturb the headquarters on a day off after the move. I willingly took advantage of his offer and hurried home, but before reaching my car, which stood separately in one of the dead ends, I suddenly found an empty bottle of vodka lying on the ground. This, and also the fact that the door of the caravan was tightly pushed, alerted me. I wanted to break in there, but overcoming the excitement, I walked around the car on the other side, where there was a gap through which you can see what is happening inside, while remaining unnoticed. The following picture appeared before me: Karasev and Zhmerin were holding a tensely snoring Starkov, and Poluchko was trying to take off his pants. My wife rushed around them.

It just so happened that in the career of a naval lieutenant, wives played, are playing and will play a significant role. Tamara Adrianov knew this firsthand, because she was the daughter of Captain 1st Rank Adrianov, a sailor in the third generation. Her "great-great-great-grandfather" began to build ships at the shipyards of Peter himself.

Tamara took both the article and the person, and most importantly the character, into her mother, who throughout her life was the commander of the quietest captain of the 1st rank Adrianov. She made a dizzying career for her husband by the standards of the Soviet era.

Tamara was born already in Leningrad, where the Adrianovs moved from the most terrible place in the Northern Fleet - "Gremikha" after two years of service. Further, the Leningrad naval base and ambulance commander's shoulder straps of the Izhora arsenal, and then a warm place at the armaments department of the Frunze Naval School. Techniques in the career growth of the spouse were constantly improved: from light flirting with superiors during a festive feast, regular meetings in women's councils and to writing reports on the advantages of the Soviet system, which were necessarily attended by the highest political leadership of the unit, base or school.

The daughter of captain 1st rank Adrianov hooked her future husband at a dance at the naval school, where her father was in charge of the department by the age of 50. The cadet's name was Slava Sukhobreev with a "completely stupid" surname, according to the future mother-in-law, for a naval officer. In the registry office, fourth-year cadet Sukhobreev has already become Adrianov. A year later, as expected, with the birth of Artemka, the young family grew into an ordinary naval family of three. Unusual was only the fact that the family arrived at the first duty station consisting of 4 people: the two-year-old Artemka, the beautiful Tamara with the most ordinary lieutenant and his extraordinary mother-in-law.

The wife of "comrade of the first rank" Adrianov bothered the lieutenant until he ordered the head of the KECH to allocate a one-room apartment to Adrianov. To which the head of the KECh, Captain Dzozikov, quietly asked the head of the medical unit about the state of health of the base commander. He answered him approximately in the following spirit, that the youngsters are completely "maddened" and they come to serve already with their mothers-in-law, and hence the possible health disorders of the captain of the 1st rank Oak himself - the commander of the base. Adrianov's mother-in-law was a clone of Oak's wife, who prudently decided to yield in small things so as not to lose in big ones. The base commander had just graduated from the logistics academy, and he had not yet forgotten strategy and operational art as a science.

Having received a full briefing from her mother about the career points of Lieutenant Adrianov, Tamara stayed with Artemka alone to wait for Slava, who went to sea the very next day after her mother appeared in Oak's office. The rest of the young lieutenants: Ponamar, Fima and Starov, who were given a whole two weeks to settle as a bachelor, “rejoiced for their friend” with pretty decent beer, believing that the hasty exit to the sea of ​​the “green by the standards of the lieutenant’s service” and his mother-in-law’s acquaintance with the command were phenomena one order. Friends sometimes ran to Tamara, helping to equip her happiness in a separate family nest, which "according to concepts and naval tradition" was supposed to be lieutenants, with the only difference being that by that time they had become lieutenant commanders. Young families lived in two or even three families in one apartment for 3-4 years. It all depended on how the couple endured "the hardships and hardships of military life."

The return of Slava Adrianov coincided with his birthday, so Tamara, following her mother’s instructions on career growth tactics, decided to stage everything in a big way, inviting Captain 1st Rank Oak with his wife and the head of the political department with his wife, hinting that she might come to this event from Peter and mom. Oak, learning about this, called the “chief medical officer” into the office and after a two-hour meeting, agreeing with the doctor’s arguments, he washed down a pressure pill in confusion with an awl (pure alcohol - fl. slang) from a decanter, which he kept in the commander’s safe.

Slava's friends had to not only rush to the city for groceries, but also turn out their pockets for arranging a grandiose table, giving the last of the due lift. The table turned out to be royal, and could decorate the reception of the Commander-in-Chief of the USSR Navy.

Finally, Slava returned "from the seas" three days late for his birthday, but this no longer mattered for the career start plan approved by the great mother-in-law. Mother Andrianov herself, to the quiet joy of Vyacheslav, could not come, but the cunning Tamara did not inform the wife of the base commander about this, and therefore Pyotr Andreevich Dub and his wife, the director of the school of the military camp, arrived, as befits a commanding couple, at the time established by the regulations.

The unexpected fact of the presence of the base commander himself at the birthday of a young lieutenant gave rise to many rumors: from the family ties of the Adrianov family with one of the members of the Central Committee of the CPSU, to the juicy details of the pranks of the fleet commander during his lieutenant's time in Gremikha, and hence the birth of the illegitimate beauty Tamara.

Frida Romanovna was not only the head of the school - the center of culture of the village, but also a writer by vocation. For her, in addition to home and school, poetry evenings in the House of Officers were a necessary attribute of power, where she could plug the "ignorant upstart" - the first lady of the formation, the admiral's wife herself - into her belt. Any feast for Frida turned into another creative idea, so the young lieutenants had to learn poetry for Adrian's birthday in accordance with the editing and literary processing of Frida herself. She liked to spend rehearsals with young lieutenants on weekends, when her husband went hunting or fishing. It was rumored that she also allowed "little pranks." But that's what the closed garrison is for, to give a reason to gossip, albeit for the sake of boredom. The fleet is strong with tradition, so why not?!

As expected, the innovations in the regulations for visiting the "Adrianov star family" were not entirely successful. The young part of the officer corps was too squeezed by the high presence at Slavkin's name day, and the "high presence" itself, understanding the idiocy of the situation, kept quiet and leaned on the "olivier", showing that the mouth was busy and "it" did not intend to squander courtesy on the birthday man. The poems of Mikhail Svetlov did not save either.

After short toasts to a colleague and his family, Starov tried to pick up a guitar and growl to Vysotsky, but, faced with the disapproving glances of Toma and Frida, fell silent, without "Having sung to the end ..." Having recited their part of the installation, Fima and Ponamar ran away to kitchen, ostensibly to smoke; but Starov, squeezed on one side by the elastic thigh of the wife of the head of the political department, and on the other, by the skinny relics of the wife of Captain Dzozikov, thought wistfully about the "free friends" who were kissing "quietly" at that moment to the neck of the steel shilnitsa. The birthday boy was sitting at the head of the table and, not knowing how to behave, pretended to be attentive to the idiotic arguments of the quickly gained doctor about the possibility of women participating in "autonomy" in submarines in the near future. Thus an hour passed in torment for all. To the horror of the hostess, Frida Romanovna, dissatisfied with the table behavior of some young girls who lean on "dry", whispered something in the ear of the contented Oak. The situation was aggravated by the crash of jackhammers and the clatter of an excavator in the yard.

The festive feast was saved by Artemka. He stumbled into the room from the street in a clay-smeared overall. The grubby muzzle made cute faces. On the way, tearing off his hat with a blue pompom, like that of a jumpsuit, dropping wet and dirty mittens under his feet, he shouted loudly, not paying any attention to the guests: "Pee, mother. Quickly, pee!"

Artyomka began to talk early, and by his 2.5 years he spoke so clearly with amazing diction that in response to ordinary questions: "How much is yours" - caused surprise and a certain distrust among the neighbors, especially since he was a big man beyond his years.

Before being escorted out into the street, Artemka ran in to the guests. Frida Romanovna, leaning her powerful torso towards the handsome boy, began to yip and ask the traditional: "What is our name" - she was indescribably delighted with what she heard in pure Russian, and not in infantile gibberish: - Artyom!

- Good God, what an admiral! - the table unanimously supported the enthusiastic remark of the wife of the base commander. The commander himself stopped chewing and moved to Starov's place closer to the baby.

Will you be an officer like your father? - Senior Adrianov proudly contemplated what was happening, spinal cord feeling that it has passed and the festive dinner is saved.

- No, a football player - a hockey player! - Artyomka shouted to enthusiastic applause, accepting the game of adults.

- Did you go to the street? Frida asked contentedly. The curly-haired little head with eyes like lakes swayed as a sign of affirmation of the affectionate question, and a plump finger appeared in the nose.

- We remove our fingers, - Frida Romanovna sang, - And we tell what we saw on the playground, - gently removing a small hand from a beautiful face, as women like to say: "in dressings." The peanut hid his hand behind his back and said loudly:

- I saw that the hole was dug for X ....!

The table froze and exhaled quietly, though the drunk doctor sounded a little louder three Russian letters, on which the sailors working in the yard buried the hole. A roar shook the room. Artemka, picked up by the strong hands of the enthusiastic captain 1st rank Oak, flew up to the ceiling. Frida Romanovna, who instantly looked like Faina Ranevskaya, laughed merrily, leaning back on the back of the sofa. Dumbfounded by her son's antics, Tamara sank helplessly into a chair. Artemka floundered in the hands of Oak, "somewhere up there" and burst into merriment.

Starov realized that the kid destroyed in a second the wall separating young families and families that took place in these harsh northern everyday life. He is the one for which nuclear submarines and long trips are needed! Artemka is the center of the universe, around which this complex world adults with their age-old questions of career and harsh Soviet life military camps.

Released, Artyom, to the first applause in his life, ran out into the street to the big "boys" and lonely pensioners - in a single impulse, rejoicing that they managed to bury the hole in the yard, right ("before the severe northern frosts").

Deep after midnight, a friendly song "about an island melting in the fog" swept over the courtyard with shabby houses and flew to that very Rybachy Island. Oak in the kitchen with Ponamar and Slava "sipped" from a flask of alcohol and smoked "Rhodopi". Tamara was putting the pillow more comfortably under the head of the doctor, who was fast asleep to the sound of sea songs. Fima passionately kissed in the bathroom with the wife of captain Dozikov, and the captain himself squatted with the enthusiastic Artyomka and rattled, playing on the palace in an excavator, which was portrayed by Lieutenant Starov.

The life of young lieutenants, thanks to Artemka Adrianov, was getting better. Unlike Ponamar, Starov and Fima, Slava received a senior lieutenant three days earlier, but all the same they celebrated a year later all together in the presence of high authorities. Maybe because the couple Dubovs liked the young lieutenants of the 1978 class, or maybe because Slavka's mother-in-law came to such an important event for her.

The train flashed by its luminous windows, whistled a long farewell, and we were left alone with two suitcases at a dimly lit half-station. Rare lanterns, one-story wooden and brick houses with tightly closed shutters, the lights of high-rise buildings flickered in the distance ... After the regular thud of the wagon wheels, silence fell upon us.

Our independent life began.

We had nowhere to sleep. The compassionate duty officer of the hostel offered to stay in the "red corner", where a young married couple had already settled for the night. Probably, our confusion touched the heart of the unfamiliar lieutenant, because late at night, when the four of us gathered at a long meeting table covered with red staples and wondered what we should do, he knocked softly and, apologetically, handed us the key to his room. He and his friend went to sleep in the gym ...

My husband and I once studied in the same class, sat at the same desk, copied from each other, prompted in the lessons. How I did not want him to become a military man! .. Gold medal, excellent knowledge of natural sciences- the doors of all the universities of the city were open before him, but the family tradition (in his family all the men were officers) outweighed the scales.

When my research supervisor at the university found out that I was marrying a cadet, he urged me for a long time not to do stupid things. I studied well, received an increased scholarship, developed a promising topic that could become the basis for a dissertation. But youth and love do not care about the advice of elders, career and well-being. In addition, in self-denial, I imagined myself to be Princess Volkonskaya, going into exile to fetch her husband ...

Our town was considered one of the best. Representative commissions were brought here, flying back in helicopters filled to overflowing with deficits from the military trade warehouses and modest gifts of the local nature.

Everything was in that prosperous, exemplary garrison and the cleanliness that the soldiers brought in the mornings instead of full-time janitors, and the pond, dug and cleaned by their own hands, and the flower beds, abundantly filled with water, while it did not reach the upper floors of the houses, and even a fountain with cascades. There was only the smallest thing - housing for officers.

Young girls like me besieged every day the instructor of the communal-operational unit in charge of resettlement, and she calmly shrugged her hands: “Wait” ...

But not everyone was waiting. Who turned out to be smarter and who had money, soon moved into apartments. The rest, who did not want to present expensive gifts and give bribes, or simply did not have the required amount, lived in the hostel for a long time, moving from room to room.

There, in a communal apartment, for the first time in my life I saw bedbugs. Neighborhood with blood-sucking insects was combined with the crying of a baby behind the wall, the rumble of stomping boots along a long corridor, the howling of a siren in the morning, calling officers to a drill, with the voice of a singer coming from someone's old tape recorder, or the strumming of a detuned guitar.

A year later, I was no longer surprised that at three in the morning someone suddenly needed salt or a piece of bread, or even just wanted to pour out their soul.

Those who had no problems with housing are unlikely to understand the depth of happiness of owning their own corner. One of my acquaintances, also an officer’s wife, who has spent a lot of time around the world, lived in private apartments for crazy pay, once admitted to me: “You know, when I get my apartment, I will kiss and stroke its walls ...”

We were almost the last to leave the hostel, the day before the New Year. And together with the new neighbors, they burned unnecessary trash, boxes and crates. We watched in silence as the flames licked dry cardboard, shooting out bedbugs, and it seemed to us that we were incinerating our recent past in smoldering firebrands. It was believed that this cleansing fire would forever carry away all our sorrows and hardships into the blackness of the night.

And then they returned to their empty apartment, where instead of a light bulb two bare wires hung lifelessly, and on rickety chairs with official numbers that replaced our table, they celebrated the holiday by candlelight.

It wasn't until three years later that we finally received a warrant for a separate apartment.

After work, having hastily eaten store cutlets, we went to repair our new home. They rejoiced, like children, at each painted window, the wall pasted over with wallpaper. And in rare breaks, we imagined how great it would be for us to live here. No one will wake you up in the morning with the sound of heels, no one will meet you at the door and hand over your two-month-old baby to sit. In the evening it will be possible to watch by yourself, without neighbors, a rented TV.

I don’t remember when the first well-knit box appeared in our house, but only then did they become our constant companions. Wooden and cardboard, large and small, neatly folded "just in case."

Surprising this state - temporality. It is difficult to grasp at what point it becomes dominant in your destiny, powerfully subordinates you to its laws, predetermines your desires and actions.

I was absolutely sure that even the most severe administrator would not resist my honors diploma, optimism and energy, and I would find a job for myself without much effort. It wasn't there! At first, everything really went wonderfully (a pleasant smile, a friendly tone), but as soon as I announced that I was the wife of an officer ... At first, it was even curious to observe the drastic change that was taking place with my employers. Where did their administrative enthusiasm, friendliness, sympathetic intonations go! The answer followed immediately and in a categorical form: there are no vacancies and are not expected in the near future.

I continued to knock on the thresholds of the institutions until the military family instructor patiently explained to me that there was a long and hopeless queue for every place in the town. And you have to get out yourself if you want to work. The only thing she could offer me at that moment. - the position of the administrator in the hotel. And yet I was lucky. Something touched the heart of the elderly editor of the local newspaper, and he accepted me as a correspondent for a month's trial period, thus insuring himself against further obligations.

Journalist and writer Vasily Sarychev has been writing down the memoirs of old-timers for fifteen years, fixing the history of the western region of Belarus through their destinies. His new story, written specifically for TUT.BY, is dedicated to Soviet women, which in 1941 Soviet authority left to chance. During the occupation, they were forced to survive, including with the help of the Germans.

Vasily Sarychev is working on a series of books "In Search of Lost Time". As the author notes, this is “the history of Europe in the mirror of a Western Belarusian city, which was told by old people who survived six authorities” ( Russian empire, German occupation during the First World War, the period when Western Belarus was part of Poland, Soviet power, German occupation during World War II and again Soviet power).

Fundraising for the publication of a new book by Sarychev from the series “In Search of Lost Time” ends on the crowdfunding platform “Beehive”. On the page of this project, you can get acquainted with the content, study the list of gifts and participate in the publication of the book. Participants will receive a book as a gift for the New Year holidays.

TUT.BY has already published Vasily about the incredible fate common man, caught in the millstones of big politics, "polite people" from 1939 and about escaping naked from prison. New story dedicated to wives Soviet commanders.

When Western Belarus was annexed to the USSR, they came to our country as winners. But then, when their husbands retreated to the east with the active army, no one needed them. How did they survive under the new government?

I'm on you like in a war. Abandoned

“Let your Stalin feed you!”

Many years ago, in the sixties, there was an incident at the checkpoint of a Brest factory. The enterprise is more female, after the change of workers, an avalanche hurried home, and conflicts occurred in the crush. They did not look at faces: whether it was an editorial or a deputy, they applied it with proletarian frankness.

At the turnstile, as in a bath, everyone is equal, and the wife of the commander from Brest Fortress, who headed the factory trade union - not yet old, twenty years had not passed since the war, survived the occupation - pushed on a common basis. Maybe she hit someone - with her elbow or during distribution - and the young weaver, who heard from her friends such things that they don’t write about in the newspapers, whipped backhand: “German prostitute!” - and she grabbed her breasts and croaked: “If you have small children ...”

So in one phrase - the whole truth about the war, with many shades, from which we were carefully taken away.

In conversations with people who survived the occupation, at first I could not understand when they made the remark “this is already after the war” and began to talk about the Germans. For the inhabitant of Brest, hostilities flashed in one morning, and then another power, three and a half years of deep German rear. Different categories of citizens - locals, Easterners, Poles, Jews, Ukrainians, party workers who got out from behind the wire of prisoners, commander's wives, soltyses, policemen - each had their own war. Some survived the misfortune at home, where neighbors, relatives, where the walls help. It was very bad for those whom hard times caught in a foreign land.

Before the war, they arrived in the "liberated" western region as mistresses - yesterday's girls from the Russian outback, who pulled out a lucky ticket ( we are talking about the events of 1939, when Western Belarus was annexed to the USSR. - TUT.BY). To marry a lieutenant from a stationed regiment meant to take off in status. And here - " liberation campaign"and in general a different world, where people raise the brim of their hats when they meet and turn to "pan", where in the store without an appointment there are bicycles with wonderfully curved handlebars, and private traders smoke a dozen varieties of sausages, and for a penny you can take at least five cuts on a dress ... And that's all these people look at them with their husband with apprehension - they look right ...

Nina Vasilievna Petruchik - by the way, the cousin of Fyodor Maslievich, whose fate is already in the chapter “ Polite people 1939,” she recalled that autumn in the town of Volchin: “The wives of the commanders were in boots, floral print dresses, black velvet jackets and huge white scarves. At the market, they began to buy embroidered nightgowns and, out of ignorance, put them on instead of dresses ... "

Maybe the weather was like this - I'm talking about boots, but they are met by clothes. This is how an eleven-year-old girl saw them: very poor people came. People, chuckling, sold nightgowns, but laughter with laughter, and the newcomers became the masters of life in a year and a half before the war.

But life calculates for random happiness. It was these women, perceived with hostility, with children in their arms, with the outbreak of war, who were left alone in an alien world. From a privileged caste they suddenly turned into pariahs, thrown out of the queues with the words: “Let your Stalin feed you!”.

It was not so with everyone, but it was, and it is not for us now to judge the ways of survival that young women chose. The easiest thing was to find a guardian who would warm and feed the children, and protect them somewhere.

“Limousines with German officers drove up to the building and took away young women, the inhabitants of this house”

Photo is illustrative

Vasily Prokopuk, a boy from the time of the occupation, who was snooping around the city with his friends, recalled that on the former Moskovskaya (we are talking about one of the Brest streets. - TUT.BY) one could see young women with soldiers walking in the direction of the fortress. The narrator is convinced that it was not local girls who “spasted” under the arm, for whom it is more difficult to accept such courtship: there were parents, neighbors, in whose eyes the church grew, finally. Maybe polkas are more relaxed? - “What are you, the Poles have ambition! my respondents answered. “There was a case, a panenka was seen flirting with an occupier - the priest screwed this into his sermon ...”

"The war is walking around Russia, and we are so young ..." - three and a half years is a long time in a short Indian century. But this was not the main motive - the children, their eternally hungry eyes. The troubled boys did not delve into the subtleties, they muttered contemptuously about women from the former houses of the officers: “They found themselves ...”

“In the center of the courtyard,” writes the author, “there was a rather exotic wing in which lived a German major, our present chief, along with a beautiful young woman and her small child. We soon learned that this ex-wife Soviet officer, left to the mercy of fate in the tragic days of the Red Army in June 1941. In the corner of the barracks yard stood a three-story brick building inhabited by abandoned families. Soviet officers. In the evenings, limousines drove up to the building with German officers and they took away young women, the inhabitants of this house.

The situation allowed options. For example, weren't the commander's wives forcibly taken away? According to Ivan Petrovich, “it was a small barracks, converted into a residential building, with several apartments per floor. Young women lived here, mostly with small children. It is possible that even before the war it was the house of the command staff, where the families found the war: I did not see guards or any signs of forced detention.

More than once or twice, I witnessed how the Germans drove up here in the evening: our camp was across the parade ground from this house. Sometimes they dropped in on the commandant, other times straight. It was not a trip to a brothel - they were going to the ladies. They knew about the visit, smiled like good friends. Usually the Germans came in the evening, went upstairs, or the women themselves went out dressed up, and the cavaliers took them away, one might assume, to a theater or a restaurant. I didn’t have to catch the return, with whom the children were, I can’t know. But everyone in the camp knew that these were the wives of the commanders. They understood that for women it was a means of survival.”

Here's how it turned out. AT last days before the war, commanders and party workers who wanted to take their families out of the city were accused of alarmism and expelled from the party - and now women have been left for the use of Wehrmacht officers.

The son's name was Albert, the Germans came - he became Adolf

Photo is illustrative

It would be wrong to say that the women left behind were looking for such support, it was just one of the ways to survive. Unpopular, stepping over the line, beyond which - gossip and piercing glances.

Women who came to Western Belarus from the east often lived in twos, threes, it was easier to survive. They went to distant (they didn’t give them to the neighbors) villages, but you can’t live on alms alone, they settled down to wash wagons, barracks, and soldiers’ dormitories. Once a German gave a large postcard to the wife of a political worker from the artillery regiment, and she hung it on the wall to decorate the room. Many years have passed since the war, and the baboons remembered the picture - they vigilantly looked at each other during the war.

The wife of the battalion commander of the rifle regiment, who stood in the fortress before the war, at the beginning of the occupation, copied her little son from Albert to Adolf, she came up with such a move, and after liberation she again made Albert. Other widows moved away from her, turned away, but for the mother this was not the main thing.

Someone will be closer to her truth, someone to the heroic Vera Khoruzha, who insisted on going to the occupied Vitebsk at the head of an underground group, leaving a baby and a little daughter in Moscow.

Life is multifaceted, and those who survived the occupation remembered different things. And a romantic-minded person who left the terrible building of the SD was clearly not after torture, and the German’s love for a Jewish girl, whom he hid to the last and went to a penal company for her, and a city plantation worker who hastily appeased a Wehrmacht soldier nearby in the park until she was shot by a client who caught a bad disease. In each case, it was different: where is the food, where is the physiology, and somewhere - a feeling, love.

Outside of service, the Germans became gallant wealthy males. Bright in her youth, the beauty N. said: at least don’t go beyond the threshold - they stuck like ticks.

Statistics will not answer how many red-haired babies were born during the war and after the expulsion of the Germans from the temporarily occupied territory, as well as with the Slavic appearance in Germany at the beginning of the 46th ... This is a delicate topic to take deeply, and we went somewhere then to the side...

Maybe in vain in general about commander's wives - there were enough restless women of all statuses and categories, and they all behaved differently. Someone tried to hide their beauty, while someone, on the contrary, turned it to good. The wife of the commander of the reconnaissance battalion Anastasia Kudinova, older, shared shelter with young partners who also lost their husbands in the fortress. All three with children - such a kindergarten-day nursery. As soon as the Germans appeared, she smeared her friends with soot and kept her away from the window. I was not afraid for myself, my friends joked, our old maid ... They pulled their mother's strap and survived without the enemy's shoulder, then they joined the fight.

They were not alone, many remained faithful, waiting for their husbands throughout the war and later. However, the opposition - arrived, local - is not entirely true. Everywhere there are cultured and not very cultured people, with principles and creeping, pure and vicious. And there are depths in any person where it is better not to look, the nature of all sorts of things mixed up, and what will manifest itself with greater force depends largely on the circumstances. It so happened that since June 22, 1941, the most destitute, stunned by these circumstances, were the “easterners”.

Another would not be missed - the reason. How did it happen that you had to flee to Smolensk and further, leaving weapons, warehouses, the entire army of personnel, and in the border areas - also wives to the delight of Wehrmacht officers?

Then there was a noble rage, the science of hatred in a journalistic performance and a real one, which increased tenfold strength in battle. This hatred helped to carry out combat missions, but in a surprising way it was not transferred to the direct culprits of many sufferings.