– I was a sapphire. We guarded the bridge across the river Hilmenda. We were brought the ammunition and food across this bridge. We had to protect the cars. Three tanks went out every day. The enemy placed an assembly in the nearby destroyed villages. The elimination of every settlement, the demining of roads was achieved at the cost of fierce battles.
There was a lot left in the memory that I wanted to remove from it. One story that happened stuck and often reminds of itself. Scouts reports that the meeting of Afghan commanders was scheduled in the village located twenty kilometers away.
We went into that village. A regiment followed us. Kilometers to six before the village we noticed several houses. Next to them we saw a kariz in the growth of a man. Usually such cherries were located near the dushman's houses. We were surprised and alerted by this.
The tunnels are dug in an open way for ten meters, and then in a closed way. On the surface a hole is carved like a well. In the closed part of the kariz, four more recesses are dug in four directions. Therefore, it is very difficult to hit the enemy hidden in these buildings. One of the holes was covered with a bag of some shiny material. I saw him first, I was alarmed and pointed to my friend Mumin from Andijan. As soon as he looked out of the AFV manhole, the bag moved to the side, from there a man with a black beard in a black turban and in a black chekmen looked and, shooting from the anti-tank weapon, fled quickly. The car started burning. Mumin and I were stuck in the lounge as I sat, hanging my legs from car.
The worst thing during an AFV fire is an explosion, because the car is filled with shells and grenades. In order to survive, it is necessary to get away at a distance. After a moment, I fell to the ground. Striking my head at something hard, I lost consciousness for a while. When I recovered, I heard that deaf grenades and shells were spreading from our AFV. In an instant, it burned like a box of fireworks. There were guys lying next to me. Their faces were bleeding. It smelled like blood, it seemed as if the blood was flowing in mixture with the sage. The soldier, lying closer to me, had ears as if specially stained with thick blood. The captain was lying next to me in a convulsion. He raised his hands and said: "Why have I come, let this land be cursed?" And quiet…
After a while we approached the remains of the AFV. I had a serious headache. Two of our soldiers came down to the quarry. One, apparently feeling something, immediately jumped up. The second failed. Shot down. There was no brave man who wanted to go down after the dead soldier. Six bulletproof vests covered the side where the Afghans settled, but their bullets broke through the cover. Then the sappers tried to pull out the body with their hooks. However, they also failed to cope with this. It took a long time before we finally managed to retrieve the dead soldier’s body. After that, the IFV began to shoot kariz from the cannon. The regiment was standing at the bottom and no one understood what was going on there, where the cannon was firing. Smoke bomb was thrown into the hole, only after the dushmans began to get out of their shelter one by one. The man with a black beard came out last. He was in a subconscious state. One leg below the knee was completely removed. The blood flowing from the foot was mixed with dust. One of the Afghans held his leg.
Prisoners were interrogated on the spot. They pointed to another clearance, where five women were hidden, intended as gifts to the leaders. The blinds of the three testified to their youth, and the black color of the blinds indicated that they were thirty-year-old women.
On that day, the dushmans were to arrive in the village Sangin for an important meeting.
We subjected the village to heavy shelling. After such a hurricane fire, the devil would have left this light himself, but we were met with a strong retaliatory fire.
We were ordered to take enemies alive. As one of the surviving sappers, I was included among the spies. We walked unnoticed to the chest. From the window of a small valley there was a continuous fire. Then the soldiers, coming from the side, knocked the door with their feet and rushed inside. I stayed at the door. In order to get to the inner yard, it was necessary to take about twenty steps. As soon as the soldiers reached the courtyard, a man with a machine jumped out. I pulled it out of my machine. He fell to the ground and began to run. Our eyes met. He was like a wolf, scratching his teeth, but soon his enlarged pupils froze in place. He was dead. At nineteen I became a murderer. Not by my own will, but this does not save you from hard thoughts. I still can’t forget that scene. His white teeth, frozen eyes are chasing me now.
"…NO FANTASY IS ENOUGH…"
Baymurat Mamanov, born in 1967. Kashkadarya Region, Uzbekistan.
Injured in Kindahar.
– The sergeant from Khorezm was named Ozod. One day his AFV exploded on a mine. Dushmans tried to take him alive, wounded. He escaped from the beaten AFV and, seeing the enemies approaching, hid himself in a nearby pipe. They, making sure that no one was left alive in the car, gave several rows on the pipe. We hurried for help and were not far away. The Afghans, feeling bad, fled to the nearby ruins. When we approached, Ozod came out of the pipe. One hand was shot and hanged helplessly down. We took him carefully into the car. No one dared to approach the burning AFV – there were deaf explosions. We returned back. Two days later we went to the AFV to pick up spare parts. Looking into the car, I saw two broken legs. The soldier burned alive in the car. No one thought about his burial and especially about sending him home. Perhaps, instead of the dead soldier's body in the zinc tomb sent salt. Yes, there was something like that.
During the demining, the machine "Ural" exploded. The senior lieutenant, sitting in the cabin, broke off both legs. He slipped to my side. His legs, stuck in his pants, walked behind him. Instead of tears, blood flowed from the eyes. I looked at him with horror. A noble, beautiful commander in a few moments turned into a terrible rubbish. Carefully lifted, I took it to the AFV. At this time, the lower part of the pants barely held, broke off with the legs and fell to the ground. No one was able to raise them. I look at the feet and I think they are going to get up and go. Some unknown force bring me to lift them up, they were still warm. I gave them to the guys sitting on the AFV. Some of my fellow servants put them down as if it was ordinary wooden beads.
The soldier, lying in the wreck, was also stripped one leg. He repeated: "Mommy, mommy, give me water!" He was also put on the AFV. The broken leg was not found. The driver, from the strong impact flew out of the viewing window, lay with his head shaken. Something intestinal, stretching from his neck, wrapped his chest.
No fantasy can paint such scenes. In war, you always think of the imminent death, you constantly feel its breath, ignorance and decision from everything. But, die so ugly, like a dog… If you meet some bright clearing, it attracts you like a magnet, you want to die in such a good place under a blue cloudless sky. Having a home, parents, family, people who love you seems like a happy but distant dream. Now they are gone. You will not see, you will not hear. All around is anxiety, horror, death.
The sappers have a very difficult job. Death always walks next to them. Not in vain it says: "Sapper only once makes a mistake".
We started cleaning off the road that the column was supposed to go through. Here one of the Afghans ran and that about five hundred dushmans were hiding in the ruins. When I told to the officer, he did not believe it.
– Continue to demine, – he ordered.
The shooting soon began. We didn’t even know where to hide. We remembered the wasp buzzing of bullets, the demolished upper part of the skull of the Samarkand guy and his white brain. I looked at him in exaggeration. Then the white brain gradually began to become red and blood flowed. The boy's hands were held by the tank with an iron grip, it seemed as if a villain-sculptor had created a terrible statue. The tank turned and went back. The boy’s brains crashed into the iron car.
From somewhere aircraft appeared and began to bomb the enemy. They shot from a rifle. This time we were protected and able to get back in part. On that day, the road remained undemined.
I can’t forget another story. The soldiers along with the captain went to the desert for demining. My legs fell into the sand. The sun burned unhappy. It was not possible to recognize each other in the face. The throat was dry, it seemed like instead of air we swallowed hot sand. At that time, the signal was given by the mine-detector. He began to scratch the land carefully, arrived at the mine, it was Italian-made. I asked the commander to blow it up on the spot.
– No, you will take the explosive device here.
In fact, we, the sappers, when a mine is detected, must destroy it on the spot. The commander's orders cannot be fulfilled. Others moved to a safe distance. I began to remove the explosive carefully, a cold sweat in an instant covered my body. It seemed like an explosion was about to happen. As soon as I removed the explosive, I instantly debilitated. On the cotton legs took the mine to the AFV. We went further. Luckily, I saw a mine on the road. I met the commander in the eyes.
– Take this one off, too, – he said mockingly.
– I will not, – I answered stubbornly.
– You will go to court! – He cried out.
The soldiers stood down. In such cases, you curse the military service a thousand times. Oh, be free now and spit in the face of this ugly guy!
The distance between me and the "baby"
is about ten meters. My feet fall into the sand. The mine lies on the sand, like on a perineum. "The Baby of Death". My legs are being heavy, I can’t walk. The cold sweat swelled the body again. The eyes began to close themselves. I can’t keep the eyelids. I prayed to the household, father and mother, whom I had not seen for a thousand years: "My relatives, protect me, please, banish death! May my remains not remain unburied in this strange hot country. May I die in your arms. Is there really no place for me in my native village? Pray to God, ask him to be merciful!" – I whispered.
We met one by one. It was as if it was saying, "Now I will scatter your hated body". Then I saw death in sight. The mine opened its black jaws, as if laughing. I cringed. I looked around. The soldiers hid behind the AFV. The yellow-faced man who had sent me to my death was watching me intently from behind the shelter.
This picture, and maybe my prayers all worked together, I came to myself: I felt a tide of strength, courage. In front of me was an ordinary "landmine". Without thinking, I removed the explosive, raised the mine. The soldiers, seeing this, fled again to a considerable distance. I brought a mine and got into the car with it. Everyone was watching, holding their breath. We returned to the regiment in silence.
– You are called by the chief of staff, – said the captain when he returned.
Now I did not care. I could even go to hell with this mine, because hell was on my chest. When a man is brought to extremes, he is capable of anything.
When they saw me with a mine on my chest, they all threw up. When I entered the chief of staff, his eyes almost came out of the orbit. He began to retreat.
– Put it there, put it there—only the chief of staff could speak, pointing to a corner away from him.
I remember another case. After serving four months in the desert, I returned to the regiment. I have been in the army for a year and a half. We were raised at four in the morning. They brought shoes from somewhere. I climbed, but on the way it started rubbing the leg, then I removed. It seemed like I couldn’t reach the goal today. I felt like I was on a mine and I exploded. Two soldiers were sent to demine the roof of the house. We were waiting for them. A lot of time has passed and concerns have grown. At this time there was an explosion, dust rose and soon settled.
– What happened there, go find out, – the commander told me.
It is not difficult to understand the feelings with which I went to execute this order. As soon as I entered the house, I saw an open crack in the ceiling that formed after the explosion. One soldier failed in it. His face could not be recognized. There was blood, but it was hard to know where it came from. I tried to help him, but he refused:
– Find my machine, I’ll go out myself, – he said. His machine was attached to the wall of the house. It's hard to say now whether I understood then what he was up to, but the machine gave. This happened often. At that moment there was a scream from the house: "Help!". I turned and took a step back. On the staircase leading to the roof of the house, a soldier stood and held a wounded comrade in his arms. I took a wounded man from him, but as soon as I tried to come down with him, there was a terrible explosion. The wounded man fell out of my arms, and I flew out of the house.
I woke up in the stretcher. I wanted to get up, but it didn’t work. Looking at my legs, I found that I had not one of my legs, and the other turned into something like a meat puddle. The trousers on the legs were broken. Someone ran somewhere, quarreled, screams were heard. They gave me some medicine to smell in the car. It seemed like I drank a lot of vodka. Then they turned from one side to the other. I don't remember anything further.
Four days I failed in the Kandahar hospital, from there I was transferred to Kabul. On the naked legs was put a bandage. Bandage was tightly attached to the bone, it was very painful. Three hours from the healthy part of the leg cut off the skin and attached to the bare bone of the feet. But everything is unsuccessful.
I was taken to Tashkent. Severe pain was caused by bandages attached to the bone. I could not sleep all night. It seems that the whole body has turned into a continuous rupture, ready to break. In Tashkent, the doctor, removing the bandages, tightly compressed my legs. The pain was terrible.
– The foot is clean, there are no cracks, – he said.
I was operated on that day. When I woke up at night, I didn’t feel any pain in my leg. I thought a lot about meeting home. I thought I would enter my hometown. Everybody knows that the news of such trouble spreads very quickly in the cheeks. My heart broke when I thought about it. Many times I thought: "Would I go back like this?". In front of my eyes passed dead comrades and blamed me for such thoughts.
The older brother arrived. When he saw me, he cried. Apparently, something was wrong with the remaining leg, and I was sent to Moscow. There I met a friend from Namangan. He lost two eyes. We walked together. Bitter tears flowed from his eyes.
Doctors promised him to do surgery, but only a year later and did not guarantee that at least one eye would see.
– If I don’t get my eyesight back, I won’t go back to my hometown. I will live here until I die, – he said.
He was very sociable, I couldn’t withstand his complaints and tried to avoid them, because I could not comfort him or myself.
I was treated in Moscow.
My older brother knew what had happened to me, but when I got back in the shell and went home on a prosthesis with a trunk in my hands, my mom was fossilized near the gate. Then she ran to meet me, pressed me to my chest…
"STARS IN DIFFERENT WORLDS"
Bahriddin Haydarov, born in 1967. From Bukhara region of Uzbekistan.
– The year 1986. Beginning of October. We returned from Hanabad to Kunduz. It was announced that Ahmad Shah had returned. His men settled in the highest, well-fortified place. Our battalion was strengthened by a regiment of motor gunmen. The Afghan sarandoi were also with us. At ten o’clock we were located four hundred meters from enemy positions. Seeing our preparations, the dushmans began to shoot first.
Two AFV were sent from us for investigate. However, they quickly returned, the soldiers reported something, and the commander decided that there was no point in attacking.
Planes were called. They, along with artillery, began to intensively shot at enemy fortifications. Unable to withstand the arranged hell, the Afghans withdrew to the village of Hanabad. In the battle a boy from Leninabad was wounded. We took three prisoners. When we, the sappers, purified this elevation, we were ordered to stay here and to settle.
We cut down trees around the fortification. The next day after returning to the location of the regiment, came the news that enemy units had appeared in Herat. We flew there by plane. From there we were transported to the mountains by helicopter. Three days later, we met in the mountains. The enemy stood on the opposite mountain. The distance between us was about a kilometer. Every movement could be seen in the binoculars. Among them we noticed people in foreign shape with light hair, as well as Arabs. They disassembled machine guns and mines.
There was another squadron next to us. In the first battle, my commander was injured. Tashbay Kurbanbayev and I each have 15 soldiers left.
At night fighting had stopped. I cannot describe it in detail, because battle in the mountains is different than in the plains. It seems like bullets are flying into you from all sides, you do not notice who is dead and who is still alive. Sometimes you can’t figure out what the enemy is hiding behind.
I remembered the whistling of bullets, the fires of shells, mortars, their echo in the mountains.
At three o’clock at night, when everything was quiet, I and the Khorezm boy had to change the guard in office. Soldiers are sleeping well. We were located in opposite points, a hundred meters away from the sleeping soldiers. In order not to lose vigilance, agreed to throw small stones. In the mountains, especially at the base, was some unusual darkness. It seemed like all the darkness was gathered around between the two peaks. You look down and it becomes awful. In the sky, the stars are shining – they are also unusually bright: the Big Bear, here is the Milky Way. It is good for study astronomy here. Nevertheless, these beautiful stars lead to unfortunate thoughts. They see everything. But if in my homeland there is a quiet, peaceful life under them, then here they look at the blood, the broken human bodies, the armored soldiers’ legs, the explosions of bombs, and the venerations of mothers. Per that’s why the stars look like they’re shrinking from fear. Peaceful life is hard to imagine.
My thoughts were interrupted by a suspicious noise. Someone approached me. It was about half five in the morning. I threw a stone to the side of the partner, he in the same way made it clear what he heard. The rustle was getting closer. At this time, somewhere it was fired from a rocket, everything around it lighted up in light. At three hundred meters from me I saw behind the nearby valley turban. I shoot from a rocket. My partner in long rows began to shoot from the machine gun in the direction of the valley. I heard the stone, and it all melted.
The next morning we learned about the death of one and the injury of another enemy spy. Soon the fight started again. I probably knew where I was standing, because the bullets whispered and hit the stones with a scratch. I could not shuffle. I stayed in this position for about ten minutes. Then they stopped shooting, apparently thinking it was over. I ran to another place and started shooting again. I lost half a gun shop and went down to the barracks. The commander ordered the defense. However, it was impossible to raise the head.
I don’t even remember when I ate. There was no food or water. From the stones came the heat, accumulated during the day. The throat is dry, it seems like it is filled with something hot. This is when you really feel the value of a spoonful of water.
The place we occupied was not very comfortable. Per that is why our commander decided to defend. They started moving under the rainy bullet towards the mountain. I, as a sapphire, had to go ahead and clean the road. The old, abandoned rocks were not replaced. All the soldiers who slipped after me had dirty and torn clothes, and the faces of them were dust and blood. I thought what a miserable spectacle we were. But it was for an external observer, and there were no such people here.
I accidentally noticed a narrow path, and we followed it. At a short distance, a guy from Khorezm followed me. Suddenly there was a deaf explosion. The explosive wave threw me a few meters away. I couldn’t see anything around, because everything was covered in dust. When the dust settled, I went looking for a path. I felt something sticky on my face, I felt it was blood. Someone from behind shouted: "You’re burning!" Only then I noticed my burning pants. A soldier named Samin helped me deal with the fire. This explosion shattered me deeply. The fragment broke out my left arm, one eye was filled with sand, and my left leg was heavily burned. Strangely, but at first I felt nothing and discovered the wounds gradually, as if exploring myself from the side. The boys put me on the blanket and took me. The bullets continued to accompany us, but fortunately no one was hit.
We went down two and a half kilometers. I asked my friend Sabir to give me water. The Russian guys asked what I asked him about and, learning what it was, said that drinking now is in no way possible, it can destroy the wounded. I felt bad, my condition worsened, tears turned. Deciding that it was time to say goodbye to life, I asked Sabir: "I will still die. You have my parent's address, don’t forget me! Tell all my family about me. Be with them more often. They will accept you as their son". I gave a friend a piece of paper.
Under the wind of helicopter blades, I came to myself. At first, the lieutenant was taken, he had no one leg. The blood slipped on the ground. Then they carried two red-haired soldiers and one black-haired soldier. All three were dead. Death gave their faces a common expression. Then they raised me.
When I was already in the air shouting "Water, water!" a pilot came out of the helicopter’s cockpit. Walking through the dead, he struck his foot in a puddle of blood. The scratches grabbed my face. I felt her taste and started licking.
– What is your name? You will live a long time. You will embrace the girls and kiss them in the lips to the blood. – You can’t drink water now, tolerate, soldiers, there is a little left, soon everything will be fine, – he said and, wiping out the blood from my face, disappeared in the cabin.
We arrived at a hospital in Shindon. The doctors were Kyrgyz.
– The operation will be heavy, a lot of blood has been lost, – said the colonel of the medical service.
I was lying in the cold room and hearing all that conversation. The nurse, cutting my clothes with blades, carefully removed it. Many of the Kyrgyz nurses had wet eyes. The war did not deprive these girls of compassion.
After the injection, the pain disappeared. At the first operation, my fingers were cut off. We prepared for the second, which lasted six hours. I don’t know how long I’ve been unconscious in the room. When I recovered, I was terribly surprised: I was all in the green. There were two slides above. One of them was tied to the hand, the other passed under the bed. When I lifted up the blanket, I saw that this end was tied to the other leg, to that, what was left of it…
Immediately in front of the eyes appeared the colloquial old men with bones. I lost consciousness…
At dawn, someone cried out, "Bahriddin, Bahriddin!" When I turned to the voice, I saw Sergeant Satin lying next to me. He also had a stump instead of one leg. Six hours after the operation, he started "walking" with the help of the boys.
– There was only a month before demobee, – he cried.
I also only had a month. Previously, I wrote home that the service was going "beautifully", and then I didn’t know what to write about. And in the last letter I said: "We are being taken out of Afghanistan".
When we landed at the airport of Tashkent, I remembered how I ran here once for tickets, loudly rattled! I studied in this city for only a year, from here I was called into the army. From the hospital, I wrote home that in five days we will fly from Tashkent to Kiev. In order for the households not to worry, I did not even name the department of the hospital in which I lie. They found me yet. My poor beloved parents came to Tashkent with my things in the hope of walking with me through this great beautiful city. When the nurse reported my parents’ arrival, I lay down without hiding. After hearing this message, I immediately covered my feet with a blanket, as if through it my parents would not notice anything. Two minutes later, my older brother entered the room. He was a doctor. I told him I broke my leg. He raised his head, bleached. When he hugged my head, he cried. I could no longer cry. There was one thought in my head: I became a burden on my family. I saw my mom and dad in a dream. My heart was shaken by joy and sorrow at the same time. My parents cried and hugged me. I lay like a stone statue. My whole life passed before my eyes: a happy childhood, careless youth, and a hard present. Now only the warm breath of mom and dad was the source of life.
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