Boris Lvovich Vasiliev - did not appear on the lists - read the book for free. Boris Vasiliev

In his entire life, Kolya Pluzhnikov has never seen so many pleasant surprises as he has had in the past three weeks. He had been waiting for the order to confer on him, Nikolai Petrovich Pluzhnikov, a military rank for a long time, but after the order, pleasant surprises rained down in such abundance that Kolya woke up at night from his own laughter.

After the morning formation, at which the order was read out, they were immediately taken to the clothing warehouse. No, not in the general, cadet, but in the cherished one, where chrome boots of unthinkable beauty, crisp belts, stiff holsters, commander's bags with smooth lacquer plates, overcoats with buttons and a tunic from a strict diagonal stood out. And then everyone, the entire graduation, rushed to the school tailors to fit the uniform both in height and in the waist, in order to merge into it, as into their own skin. And there they pushed, fussed and laughed so much that a state-owned enameled lampshade began to sway under the ceiling.

In the evening, the head of the school himself congratulated everyone on their graduation, handed them the "ID card of the commander of the Red Army" and a weighty "TT". The beardless lieutenants deafeningly shouted the number of the pistol and squeezed the dry general's hand with all their might. And at the banquet, the commanders of training platoons enthusiastically rocked and tried to settle scores with the foreman. However, everything turned out well, and this evening - the most beautiful of all evenings - began and ended solemnly and beautifully.

For some reason, it was on the night after the banquet that Lieutenant Pluzhnikov discovered that he was crunching. It crunches pleasantly, loudly and courageously. It crunches with the fresh leather of the belt, the unrumpled uniform, the shining boots. It crunches all over, like a brand new ruble, which the boys of those years easily called “crunch” for this feature.

Actually, it all started a little earlier. At the ball that followed after the banquet, yesterday's cadets came with girls. And Kolya did not have a girlfriend, and he stammeringly invited the librarian Zoya. Zoya pursed her lips in concern, said thoughtfully: “I don’t know, I don’t know ...” - but she came. They danced, and Kolya, out of burning shyness, kept talking and talking, and since Zoya worked in the library, he talked about Russian literature. Zoya at first agreed, and in the end, touchily stuck out her clumsily painted lips:

- It hurts you crunch, comrade lieutenant.

In the language of the school, this meant that Lieutenant Pluzhnikov was asked. Then Kolya understood it that way, and when he arrived at the barracks, he found that he crunches in the most natural and pleasant way.

“I’m crunching,” he informed his friend and bunkmate, not without pride.

They were sitting on the windowsill in the corridor of the second floor. It was the beginning of June, and the nights at the school smelled of lilacs, which no one was allowed to break.

“Crack your health,” said a friend. - Only, you know, not in front of Zoya: she is a fool, Kolka. She is a terrible fool and is married to a foreman from an ammunition platoon.

But Kolya listened with half an ear, because he studied the crunch. And he liked this crunch very much.

The next day, the guys began to disperse: everyone was supposed to leave. They said goodbye noisily, exchanged addresses, promised to write, and one by one they disappeared behind the latticed gates of the school.

And for some reason, Kolya was not given travel documents (although there was nothing to drive: to Moscow). Kolya waited two days and was just about to go to find out when the orderly shouted from afar:

- Lieutenant Pluzhnikov to the commissioner! ..

The commissar, who looked very much like the suddenly aged artist Chirkov, listened to the report, shook hands, indicated where to sit, and silently offered cigarettes.

“I don’t smoke,” Kolya said and began to blush: he was generally thrown into a fever with extraordinary ease.

“Well done,” said the commissar. - And I, you know, I still can’t quit, I don’t have enough willpower.

And smoked. Kolya wanted to advise on how to temper the will, but the commissar spoke again:

“We know you, lieutenant, as an exceptionally conscientious and diligent person. We also know that you have a mother and sister in Moscow, that you haven't seen them for two years and you miss them. And you have a vacation. He paused, got out from behind the table, walked around, intently looking at his feet. - We know all this, and yet we decided to ask you specifically ... This is not an order, this is a request, mind you, Pluzhnikov. We no longer have the right to order you ...

- I'm listening, comrade regimental commissar. - Kolya suddenly decided that he would be offered to go work in intelligence, and he tensed all over, ready to yell deafeningly: “Yes!”

“Our school is expanding,” the commissar said. - The situation is complicated, there is a war in Europe, and we need to have as many combined arms commanders as possible. In this regard, we are opening two more training companies. But their states are not yet staffed, and the property is already coming. So we are asking you, comrade Pluzhnikov, to help sort out this property. Accept it, post it...

And Kolya Pluzhnikov remained at the school in a strange position "where they send him." His whole course had long since left, he had been spinning novels for a long time, sunbathing, swimming, dancing, and Kolya diligently counted bedding sets, linear meters of footcloths and pairs of cowhide boots. And wrote all sorts of reports.

So two weeks passed. For two weeks, Kolya patiently, from getting up to lights out and without days off, received, counted and arrived property, never going out of the gate, as if he was still a cadet and was waiting for a leave from an angry foreman.

In June, there were few people left at the school: almost everyone had already left for the camps. Usually Kolya did not meet with anyone, up to his neck busy with endless calculations, statements and acts, but somehow he found with joyful surprise that he was ... welcomed. They salute according to all the rules of army regulations, with cadet chic throwing out their palm to the temple and famously throwing up their chin. Kolya did his best to answer with weary carelessness, but his heart sank sweetly in a fit of youthful vanity.

It was then that he began to walk in the evenings. With his hands behind his back, he went straight to the groups of cadets who were smoking before going to bed at the entrance to the barracks. Tiredly, he looked strictly in front of him, and his ears grew and grew, catching a cautious whisper:

- Commander...

And, already knowing that his palms were about to fly elastically to his temples, he diligently frowned, trying to give his round, fresh, like a French bun, face an expression of incredible concern ...

Hello, Comrade Lieutenant.

It was on the third evening: nose to nose - Zoya. In the warm twilight, white teeth sparkled with a chill, and numerous frills moved by themselves, because there was no wind. And this living thrill was especially frightening.

“I can’t see you anywhere, Comrade Lieutenant. And you don't come to the library anymore...

- Job.

- Have you been left at the school?

“I have a special task,” Kolya said vaguely.

For some reason, they were already walking side by side and not at all in that direction.

Zoya talked and talked, laughing incessantly; he didn't get the point, wondering why he was walking so obediently in the wrong direction. Then he worriedly wondered if his outfit had lost its romantic crunch, moved his shoulder, and the harness immediately answered with a tight noble creak ...

“…Eerily funny!” We laughed so hard, we laughed so hard. You're not listening, Comrade Lieutenant.

No, I'm listening. You laughed.

She stopped: her teeth flashed again in the darkness. And he no longer saw anything but that smile.

"You liked me, didn't you?" Well, tell me, Kolya, did you like it? ..

“No,” he answered in a whisper. - I just do not know. You are married.

“Married?” She laughed out loud. - Married, right? You were told? So what if you're married? I accidentally married him, it was a mistake ...

Somehow he took her by the shoulders. Or maybe he didn’t, but she herself moved them so deftly that his hands were suddenly on her shoulders.

A young lieutenant enters the Brest Fortress on the first day of the war. For ten months he stubbornly resists the Nazis and dies unbroken.

Part one

Nineteen-year-old Kolya Pluzhnikov is finishing military school with the rank of second lieutenant. Instead of a vacation, the commissioner asks him to help deal with the property of the school, which is expanding due to the complicated situation in Europe.

For two weeks, Pluzhnikov disassembles and takes into account military property. Then the general calls him and offers to remain in his native school as the commander of a training platoon with the prospect of continuing his studies at the Military Academy. Kolya refuses - he wants to serve in the army.

A commander... becomes a real commander only after serving in the troops, having a meal with soldiers from the same pot, having learned to command them.

Kolya is appointed a platoon commander and sent to the Special Western District with the condition that in a year he will return to the school.

Kolya goes to the duty station via Moscow. He saves a few hours to see his mother and younger sister - Kolya's father died in Central Asia at the hands of the Basmachi. At home, Kolya meets his sister's friend. The girl has been in love with him for a long time. She promises to wait for Kolya and is going to visit him at a new duty station. The girl believes that the war will begin soon, but Kolya is convinced that these are empty rumors, and the Red Army is strong and will not let the enemy into our territory.

Kolya arrives in Brest in the evening. Not finding a canteen, he, along with random fellow travelers, goes to a restaurant where a self-taught violinist plays. It is restless in Brest, every night the roar of engines, tanks and tractors is heard beyond the Bug.

After dinner, Kolya parted ways with fellow travelers. They call him with them, but Pluzhnikov stays in the restaurant. The violinist plays for the lieutenant, and the musician's niece Mirra escorts Kolya to the Brest Fortress.

At the checkpoint, Kolya is sent to the barracks for business travelers. Mirrochka undertakes to see him off.

It was very quiet and very warm, and his head was spinning a little, and he thought with pleasure that he had nowhere to rush yet, because he was not yet on the lists.

Mirra, a lame Jewish girl working in the fortress, is aware of everything that happens both in the city and in the garrison. This seems suspicious to Kolya. Before the next checkpoint, he tries to open the holster of his service weapon and in a moment he is already lying in the dust under the guns of the duty officer.

Having settled the misunderstanding, Mirra undertakes to clean Kolya of dust and leads him to a warehouse in a large basement. There, the lieutenant meets two middle-aged women, a mustachioed foreman, a gloomy sergeant and an eternally sleepy young soldier. While Kolya is cleaning, it starts to get light, the night of June 22, 1941 ends. Kolya is seated to drink tea, and then the roar of explosions is heard. The foreman is sure that the war has begun. Kolya rushes upstairs in order to be in time for his regiment, because he is not on the lists.

Part two

Pluzhnikov finds himself in the center of an unfamiliar fortress. Everything around is on fire, people are burning alive in the garage. On the way to the KPK, Kolya hides in a crater along with an unfamiliar fighter, who reports: the Germans are already in the fortress. Pluzhnikov understands that the war has really begun.

Following a fighter named Salnikov, Kolya joins his own and, under the command of the deputy political officer, recaptures the club occupied by the Germans - a former church. Kolya is entrusted with keeping the church. For the rest of the day, the fortress is bombed. Kolya and a dozen fighters repulse the attacks of the Nazis with captured weapons. All the water goes to cool the machine guns, the river bank is already occupied by the Nazis, and the soldiers are thirsty.

He no longer felt fear or time: his stuffy ears rang, a dreary tickle in his parched throat, and out of habit, his hands were twitching from the beating German machine gun.

Between the attacks of Pluzhnikov and Salnikov, they examine the vast basement of the church - the women hiding there seem to have seen the Germans - but they do not find anyone. In the evening, the nimble Salnikov brings water. Kolya begins to realize that the Red Army will not help them.

In the morning the Germans break through the basement. Kolya and Salnikov run under fire to another basement, where a small detachment of soldiers, led by a senior lieutenant, sat down. He believes that the church had to be abandoned because of Pluzhnikov. Kolya also feels his guilt - he overlooked it - and undertakes to atone for it.

He sat on the floor, not moving, sullenly thinking that he had done the worst thing: he had betrayed his comrades. He did not look for excuses for himself, did not feel sorry for himself: he sought to understand why this happened.

Kolya receives an order to correct the mistake and recapture the church. He is beaten off, and yesterday is repeated - bombings, attacks. Kolya lies behind the machine gun and shoots, burning himself on the red-hot hull.

They are changed in the morning. Kolya, Salnikov and a tall border guard retreat, come under fire and break into the basement compartment, from which there is no way out. Only at night they break through to the ring barracks, under which there is also a network of cellars. The enemy, meanwhile, changes tactics. Now German sappers are methodically blowing up the ruins, destroying places where you can hide.

In the cellars, Kolya meets a wounded political officer and learns from him that the Germans promise a heavenly life to the surrendered "valiant defenders of the fortress." The political instructor, on the other hand, believes that the Germans should be beaten so that they are afraid of every stone, tree and hole in the ground. Kolya understands that the political instructor is right.

The next day, Kolya ends up in the common cellars.

Days and nights merged into a single chain of sorties and bombings, ... fights with the enemy and short, like fainting minutes of oblivion. And a constant, debilitating, not passing even in a dream desire to drink.

The political instructor dies, taking several fascists with him, a tall border guard is mortally wounded during the storming of the bridge, then the commanders send women and children into German captivity so that they do not die of thirst in the basements.

Kolya gets water for the wounded. The border guard asks to be taken to the exit from the basement - he wants to die in the open. Helping a friend, Kolya says that everyone was ordered to "scatter in all directions." But there are no cartridges, and breaking through without ammunition is a senseless suicide.

After leaving the border guard to die, Kolya and Salnikov set out to look for an ammunition depot. The Germans have already occupied the fortress. During the day they destroy the ruins, and at night these ruins come to life.

Wounded, scorched, exhausted by thirst and battles, skeletons in rags rose from under the bricks, crawled out of the dungeons and ... destroyed those who risked staying overnight. And the Germans were afraid of the night.

Friends make their way to the warehouse during the day, hiding in the craters. In one of the funnels, a German discovers them. They begin to beat Salnikov, and Pluzhnikov is chased in a circle, "cheering" with automatic bursts, until he dives into an inconspicuous hole in the ground.

Kolya ends up in an isolated bunker, where he meets Mirra and her companions - senior sergeant Fedorchuk, foreman, Red Army soldier Vasya Volkov. They have a supply of food, they got water by breaking through the floor and pulling out a well. Having come to his senses, Kolya feels that he is at home.

Part three

The whole war for them, walled up alive in a deaf casemate, was now going on upstairs.

While Kolya was fighting, they made their way through the basements to this isolated bunker with two exits - to the surface and to the armory.

Pluzhnnikov decides to make his way to the remnants of the garrison who have settled in the distant basements, but is late: in front of his eyes, the Germans blow up the shelter and destroy the last defenders of the fortress. Now only scattered loners remain in the ruins.

Pluzhnikov returns to the basement and lies on the bench for a long time, remembering those with whom he fought all these days.

With amazing clarity, he could see them all now. Everyone who, covering him, rushed forward, rushed without hesitation, without hesitation, driven by something incomprehensible, incomprehensible to him.

Kolya passes a death sentence on himself and decides to shoot himself. Mirra stops him. The next morning, Pluzhnikov finally comes to his senses, arms the men who are under his command and arranges forays to the surface, hoping to find at least one of his own. Kolya believes that Salnikov is still alive and is constantly looking for him.

During one of the sorties, a shootout begins and the foreman is wounded in the leg. Fedorchuk disappears the next day. Kolya, together with Vasya Volkov, goes to look for him and sees how he voluntarily surrenders to the Germans. Pluzhnikov kills the traitor with a shot in the back.

He felt no remorse, having shot a man with whom he had sat at a common table more than once. On the contrary, he felt an evil, joyful excitement.

Vasya begins to fear his commander. Meanwhile, the Germans enter the fortress and begin to clean up the ruins. Kolya and Volkov retreat and stumble upon prisoners, among whom Pluzhnikov sees a familiar Red Army soldier. He informs Kolya that Salnikov is alive and is in the German infirmary. The prisoner is trying to betray him. Kolya has to run away, and he loses Volkov.

Pluzhnikov notices that Germans of a different kind have come to the fortress - not so grasping and fast. He takes one prisoner and finds out that it is a mobilized German worker from the guard team. Kolya understands that he must kill the prisoner, but he cannot do this and lets him go.

The foreman's wound rots, he feels that he will not last long, and decides to sell his life dearly. The foreman blows up the gate through which the enemy enters the fortress, along with himself and a large group of Germans.

Part Four

On the advice of the foreman, Kolya wants to send Mirra to the Germans as a prisoner, hoping that she can survive. The girl thinks that Kolya wants to get rid of her as a burden. She understands that the Germans will kill her, a cripple and a Jewess.

Pluzhnikov explores the labyrinth of cellars and stumbles upon two survivors - a sergeant and a corporal. They are going to leave the fortress and call Kolya with them. New acquaintances do not want to take myrrh with them. They believe that the Red Army is defeated and want to escape as soon as possible. Kolya refuses to leave the girl alone and forces the sergeant and corporal to leave, supplying them with cartridges.

Mirra is in love with Kolya, and he shares her feelings. They become husband and wife.

And again there was no darkness, no basement, no rats that squeaked in the corners. And again there was no war, but there were two. two on earth. Man and woman.

Time passes. Pluzhnikov patrols the fortress every day. In one of these sorties, he meets Vasya Volkov. He went crazy, but Pluzhnikova is still afraid. Seeing Kolya, Volkov runs away, stumbles upon the Germans and dies.

Autumn is coming. Mirra confesses to Kolya that she is expecting a baby and must leave. Kolya had already seen a detachment of captured women in the fortress who were clearing the rubble. He takes Mirra to them, she tries to mix with the prisoners, but they notice an extra woman. She is recognized by a German who was once spared by Kolya. Mirra is trying to move away so that Pluzhnikov, who is watching everything from the basement hole, does not understand anything and does not intervene. The girl is severely beaten and pierced with a bayonet.

A bright light flashed before her tightly closed eyes, and in this merciless light she suddenly saw that she would never have a little one, a husband, or life itself.

The half-dead girl is covered with bricks in a small funnel.

Part five

Kolya falls ill and loses track of days. When Pluzhnikov recovers and gets out, there is already snow in the fortress. He again begins to hunt for German patrols.

He was alive and still felt like the owner of the Brest Fortress that had fallen silent under the snow.

Pluzhnikov is sure that Mirra has returned to her family, and tries not to think about her.

Kolya gets into the church, remembers how he fought for it, and understands: there is no death and loneliness, "because there is it, this is the past." The Germans are trying to catch him by quietly cordoning off the church, but Pluzhnikov escapes. In the evening, Kolya returns to his habitable corner and finds that it has been blown up - Pluzhnikov was given out traces in the freshly fallen snow.

Kolya goes to the unexplored cellars and meets the surviving foreman Semishny there. He was wounded in the spine and can no longer walk - he is gradually paralyzed. But the spirit of the foreman is not broken, he is sure that every meter resists the enemy native land. He forces Kolya to come out of the basement every day and kill the invaders.

To know: the fortress is alive. To be afraid of the dead. To order their children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren to Russia to meddle!

Kolya gradually begins to lose his sight, but stubbornly goes "hunting". The foreman is also getting worse, he can hardly sit, but does not give up, "with a fight giving death every millimeter of his body."

On the first day of 1942, Semishny dies. Before his death, he gives Kolya the regimental banner, which he wore under his clothes all this time.

On the twelfth of April, the Germans find Pluzhniki. As an interpreter, they bring a self-taught violinist who once played for Kolya. From him, Pluzhnikov learns that the Germans have been defeated near Moscow. Kolya feels that he has fulfilled his duty, and goes out to the enemies. He is ill, almost blind, but he holds himself upright. He goes to the ambulance through the ranks German soldiers, and those, at the command of the officer, bring their hands to their caps.

But he did not see these honors, and if he did, he would not care anymore. He was above all conceivable honors, above glory, above life and above death.

Near the car, he falls "free and after life, trampling death by death."

Epilogue

Visitors to the museum of the Brest Fortress will be sure to be told a legend about a man who was not listed, but defended the fortress for ten months, they will show the only surviving regimental banner and “a small wooden prosthesis with the remnant of a woman’s shoe” found in a funnel under bricks.

1

In his entire life, Kolya Pluzhnikov has never seen so many pleasant surprises as he has had in the past three weeks. He had been waiting for an order to confer on him, Nikolai Petrovich Pluzhnikov, a military rank for a long time, but after the order, pleasant surprises rained down in such abundance that Kolya woke up at night from his own laughter.

After the morning formation, at which the order was read out, they were immediately taken to the clothing warehouse. No, not in the general, cadet, but in the cherished one, where chrome boots of unthinkable beauty, crisp belts, stiff holsters, commander's bags with smooth lacquer plates, overcoats with buttons and tunics from a strict diagonal stood out. And then everyone, the entire graduation, rushed to the school tailors to fit the uniform both in height and in the waist, in order to merge into it, as into their own skin. And there they pushed, fussed and laughed so much that a state-owned enameled lampshade began to sway under the ceiling.

In the evening, the head of the school himself congratulated everyone on their graduation, handed them the "ID card of the commander of the Red Army" and a weighty TT. The beardless lieutenants deafeningly shouted the number of the pistol and squeezed the dry general's hand with all their might. And at the banquet, the commanders of training platoons enthusiastically rocked and tried to settle scores with the foreman. However, everything turned out well, and this evening - the most beautiful of all evenings - began and ended solemnly and beautifully.

Actually, it all started a little earlier. At the ball that followed after the banquet, yesterday's cadets came with girls. And Kolya did not have a girlfriend, and he stammeringly invited the librarian Zoya. Zoya pursed her lips in concern, said thoughtfully: “I don’t know, I don’t know ...”, but she came. They danced, and Kolya, out of burning shyness, kept talking and talking, and since Zoya worked in the library, he talked about Russian literature. Zoya at first agreed, and in the end, touchily stuck out her clumsily painted lips:

You are crunching painfully, comrade lieutenant. In the language of the school, this meant that Lieutenant Pluzhnikov was asked. Then Kolya understood it that way, and when he arrived at the barracks, he found that he crunches in the most natural and pleasant way.

I’m crunching,” he informed his friend and bunkmate, not without pride.

They were sitting on the windowsill in the corridor of the second floor. It was the beginning of June, and the nights at the school smelled of lilacs, which no one was allowed to break.

Take care of yourself, said a friend. - Only, you know, not in front of Zoya: she is a fool, Kolka. She is a terrible fool and is married to a foreman from an ammunition platoon.

But Kolka listened with half an ear, because he studied the crunch. And he liked this crunch very much.

Lieutenant Pluzhnikov to the commissar! ..

The commissar, who looked very much like the suddenly aged artist Chirkov, listened to the report, shook hands, indicated where to sit, and silently offered cigarettes.

I don’t smoke,” said Kolya and began to blush: he was generally thrown into a fever with extraordinary ease.

Well done, said the commissioner. - And I, you know, I still can’t quit, I don’t have enough willpower.

And smoked. Kolya wanted to advise on how to temper the will, but the commissar spoke again.

We know you, lieutenant, as an exceptionally conscientious and diligent person. We also know that you have a mother and sister in Moscow, that you haven't seen them for two years and you miss them. And you have a vacation. - He paused, got out from behind the table, walked around, intently looking at his feet. - We know all this, and yet we decided to ask you specifically ... This is not an order, this is a request, mind you, Pluzhnikov. We have no right to order you ...

I'm listening, comrade regimental commissar. - Kolya suddenly decided that he would be offered to go work in intelligence, and he tensed up, ready to yell deafeningly: “Yes! ..”

Our school is expanding, - said the commissioner. - The situation is complicated, there is a war in Europe, and we need to have as many combined arms commanders as possible. In this regard, we are opening two more training companies. But their states are not yet staffed, and the property is already coming. So we are asking you, comrade Pluzhnikov, to help sort out this property. Accept it, post it...

BORIS VASILIEV
NOT ON THE LISTS

* PART ONE *

In all his life, Kolya Pluzhnikov had never met so many pleasant
surprises, how many have fallen in the last three weeks. assignment order
he, Nikolai Petrovich Pluzhnikov, he had been waiting for a military rank for a long time, but after
following the order, pleasant surprises rained down in such abundance that Kolya
woke up at night from his own laughter.
After the morning formation, at which the order was read out, they immediately
taken to the warehouse. No, not in the general, cadet, but in that cherished one, where
chrome boots of unimaginable beauty, crisp belts,
rigid holsters, commander's bags with smooth lacquer plates,
overcoats with buttons and tunics from a strict diagonal. And then everything, everything
graduation, rushed to the school tailors to fit uniforms and
height and waist to blend into him as into his own skin. And there
pushed, fussed and laughed so much that under the ceiling began to sway
state-owned enameled lampshade.
In the evening, the head of the school himself congratulated everyone on graduation, handed
"Identity card of the commander of the Red Army" and a weighty TT. Mustacheless lieutenants
deafeningly shouted the number of the pistol and squeezed the dry
general's hand. And at the banquet, the commanders of the training
platoons and tried to settle scores with the foreman. However, everything worked out
well, and this evening - the most beautiful of all evenings - began and
ended solemnly and beautifully.
For some reason, it was on the night after the banquet that Lieutenant Pluzhnikov discovered
that it crunches. It crunches pleasantly, loudly and courageously. Crunchy with fresh skin
sword belts, unrumpled uniforms, shining boots. Whole crunches
like a brand new ruble, which for this feature the boys of those years easily
called "crunch".
Actually, it all started a little earlier. To the ball that followed
after the banquet, yesterday's cadets came with the girls. And Kolya has no girls
there was, and he stammeringly invited the librarian Zoya. Zoya shrugged her shoulders.
lips, said thoughtfully: "I don't know, I don't know ...", but she came. They danced and
Kolya, out of burning shyness, kept talking and talking, and since Zoya worked in
library, he spoke about Russian literature. Zoya agreed at first, but in
at the end, she stuck out her clumsily made-up lips resentfully:
“You are crunching painfully, Comrade Lieutenant. In school language it is
meant that Lieutenant Pluzhnikov was asking. Then Kolya understood it that way, and
when he arrived at the barracks, he discovered that he crunches the most natural and pleasant
way.
"I'm crunching," he informed his friend and neighbor with some pride.
bunk.
They were sitting on the windowsill in the corridor of the second floor. It was early June and
the nights at the school smelled of lilacs, which no one was allowed to break.
“Knowledge yourselves,” said the friend. - Only, you know, not before
Zoya: she is a fool, Kolka. She is a terrible fool and is married to a foreman from
ammunition platoon.
But Kolka listened with half an ear, because he studied the crunch. And this crunch is very
he liked it.
The next day, the guys began to disperse: everyone was supposed to leave.
They parted noisily, exchanged addresses, promised to write, and one after another
disappeared behind the latticed gates of the school.
And for some reason, Kolya was not given travel documents (although the ride was
nothing at all: to Moscow). Kolya waited two days and was just about to go
to learn how the orderly shouted from afar:
- Lieutenant Pluzhnikov to the commissar! ..
The commissar, who looked very much like the suddenly aged artist Chirkov, listened to
report, shook hands, indicated where to sit, and silently offered cigarettes.
“I don’t smoke,” said Kolya and began to blush: he was generally thrown into a fever
with extraordinary ease.
"Well done," said the commissar. - And I, you know, I can’t quit anyway
I can, I do not have enough willpower.
And smoked. Kolya wanted to advise how to temper the will, but
the commissioner spoke again.
“We know you, lieutenant, as a man of exceptional conscientiousness
and executive. We also know that in Moscow you have a mother and sister, that
you saw them for two years and missed them. And you have a vacation. - He paused
got out from behind the table, walked around, intently looking at his feet. - We are all
we know, and yet we decided to turn to you with a request ... This is not
an order, this is a request, mind you, Pluzhnikov. We have no right to order you
we have...
“I am listening, comrade regimental commissar. Kolya suddenly decided that he
offered to go to work in intelligence, and all tense up, ready deafeningly
shout: "Yes! .."
“Our school is expanding,” said the commissar. - The situation is complex
Europe is at war, and we need to have as many combined arms as possible
commanders. In this regard, we are opening two more training companies. But their states
not yet completed, and the property is already arriving. Here we ask you
comrade Pluzhnikov, help sort out this property. Accept him,
capitalize...
And Kolya Pluzhnikov remained at the school in a strange position "where they send him."
His whole course had long since left, he had been spinning novels for a long time, sunbathing, swimming,
danced, and Kolya diligently counted bed sets, linear meters
footcloths and a pair of cowhide boots. And wrote all sorts of reports.
So two weeks passed. For two weeks Kolya patiently, from wake up to lights out and
seven days a week, received, counted and received property, never going beyond
gate, as if he were still a cadet and was waiting for a leave of absence from an angry
foremen.
In June, there were few people left at the school: almost everyone had already left for the camps.
Usually Kolya did not meet with anyone, he was up to his neck busy with endless
calculations, statements and acts, but somehow with joyful surprise
found that he was... greeted. Welcome according to all the rules of the army
statutes, with cadet chic throwing his palm to his temple and famously throwing up
chin. Kolya tried his best to answer with a weary
negligence, but his heart sank sweetly in a fit of youthful vanity.
It was then that he began to walk in the evenings. With his hands behind his back, he walked
right at the groups of cadets who smoked before going to bed at the entrance to the barracks. Wearily
looked strictly in front of him, and his ears grew and grew, catching a cautious whisper:
- Commander...
And, already knowing that the palms were about to fly elastically to the temples, diligently
frowned, trying to give his round, fresh, like a French
a bun, an expression of incredible concern on his face ...
Hello, Comrade Lieutenant.
It was on the third evening: nose to nose - Zoya. In warm dusk
white teeth sparkled with a chill, and numerous frills moved by themselves,
because there was no wind. And this living thrill was especially
intimidating.
"I can't see you anywhere, Comrade Lieutenant, and you're going to the library."
don't come again...
-- Job.
- Have you been left at the school?
“I have a special task,” Kolya said vaguely. For some reason they were already on their way.
near and not in the same direction. Zoya talked and talked, laughing incessantly;
he didn't get the point, wondering why he was walking so obediently in the wrong direction.
Then he wondered with concern if his uniform had been lost.
romantic crunch, moved his shoulder, and the sword belt immediately answered
tight noble creak ...
- ... terribly funny! We laughed so much, we laughed so much ... Yes, you are not listening,
comrade lieutenant.
- No, I'm listening. You laughed.
She stopped: her teeth flashed again in the darkness. And he didn't see
nothing but that smile.
"You liked me, didn't you?" Well, tell me, Kolya, did you like it? ..
"No," he answered in a whisper. -- I just do not know. You are married.
- Married? .. - She laughed noisily: - Married, right? You were told? Well,
and what if you're married? I accidentally married him, it was a mistake...
Somehow he took her by the shoulders. Or maybe he didn’t take it, but
she herself moved them so deftly that his hands were on her shoulders.
"By the way, he's gone," she said matter-of-factly. -- If you go through
this alley to the fence, and then along the fence to our house, so no one
will notice. You want tea, Kolya, right? ..
He already wanted tea, but then a dark spot moved towards them from the alley
dusk, swam and said:
-- Sorry.
"Comrade regimental commissar!" Kolya shouted desperately, rushing for
a figure stepping aside. "Comrade regimental commissar, I...
- Comrade Pluzhnikov? Why did you leave the girl? Hey, hey.
“Yes, yes, of course,” Kolya darted back, said hastily: “Zoya,
Sorry. Affairs. Service business.
What did Kolya mutter to the commissioner, getting out of the lilac alley to the calm
the expanse of the school parade ground, he had already forgotten in an hour. Something 'bout
tailor's fabric of non-standard width or, it seems, standard width,
but not quite canvases... The commissar listened and listened, and then asked:
What was that, your friend?
- No, no, what are you doing! Kolya got scared. - What are you, regimental comrade
commissar, this is Zoya, from the library. I didn't give her the book, so...
And he fell silent, feeling that he was blushing: he greatly respected the good-natured
the elderly commissar and was shy about lying. However, the commissioner spoke of something else,
and Kolya somehow came to his senses.
-- It's good that you don't run the documentation: little things in our
military life play a huge disciplinary role. Here, let's say
a civilian can sometimes afford something, and we, the personnel
commanders of the Red Army, we cannot. We cannot, for example, walk with a married woman
woman, because we are in plain sight. we must always, every minute be for
subordinates exemplary discipline. And it's good that you understand that...
Tomorrow, Comrade Pluzhnikov, at eleven-thirty I ask you to come to me.
Let's talk about your future service, maybe we'll go to the general.
-- Eat...
- Well, see you tomorrow. - The commissioner gave a hand, delayed, quietly
said: - And the book will have to be returned to the library, Kolya! Have to!..
Of course, it turned out very badly that I had to deceive a friend
regimental commissar, but for some reason Kolya was not too upset. In perspective
a possible meeting with the head of the school was expected, and yesterday's cadet was waiting
this meeting with impatience, fear and trembling, like a girl - meetings
with first love. He got up long before the rise, scrubbed himself to an independent
glowing crispy boots, hemmed a fresh collar and polished everything
buttons. In the commander's dining room - Kolya was monstrously proud that he was feeding
in this canteen and personally pays for the food - he could not eat anything, and
only drank three servings of dried fruit compote. And arrived at exactly eleven
to the commissioner.
- Oh, Pluzhnikov, great! - In front of the door of the commissioner's office sat
lieutenant Gorobtsov - former commander of Kolya's training platoon - also
polished, ironed and tightened. -- How's it going? Rounding up with
footcloths?
Pluzhnikov was a thorough man and therefore told about his affairs
everyone, secretly wondering why Lieutenant Gorobtsov is not interested in what he,
Kolya is doing it here. And finished with a hint:
- Yesterday the comrade regimental commissar asked questions. And he ordered...
“Listen, Pluzhnikov,” Gorobtsov suddenly interrupted, lowering his voice. -- If
you will be asked to marry Velichko, don't go. You ask me, okay? Like,
you have been serving together for a long time, we worked together ...
Lieutenant Velichko was also the commander of a training platoon, but - the second, and
always argued with lieutenant Gorobtsov on all occasions. Kolya did not understand anything
from what Gorobtsov told him, but nodded politely. And when he opened his mouth
to ask for clarification, the door of the commissar's office flung open and
a beaming and also very ceremonial lieutenant Velichko came out.
- They gave me a company, - he said to Gorobtsov, - I wish the same!
Gorobtsov jumped up, habitually straightened his tunic, driving
all fold back, and entered the study.
"Hi, Pluzhnikov," Velichko said and sat down beside him. -- Well, how
business in general? All handed over and all accepted?
- In general, yes. - Kolya again spoke in detail about his affairs.
Only I had no time to hint anything about the commissar, because the impatient
Velichko interrupted earlier:
- Kolya, they will offer - ask me. I'm there a few words
said, but you, in general, ask.
- Where to ask?
Here the regimental commissar and lieutenant Gorobtsov came out into the corridor, and Velichko with
Kolya jumped up. Kolya began to say "by your order ...", but the commissar did not
listened to:
"Let's go, Comrade Pluzhnikov, the general is waiting." You are free comrades
commanders.
They went to the head of the school not through the reception room, where the duty officer was sitting,
but through an empty room, In the depths of this room there was a door through which
the commissar went out, leaving the perplexed Kolya alone.
Until now, Kolya met with the general, when the general handed him
identity card and personal weapons, which so nicely pulled the side. Was,
true, another meeting, but Kolya was embarrassed to remember it, and the general
forever forgotten.
This meeting took place two years ago, when Kolya was still a civilian,
but already trimmed like a typewriter - along with other cropped ones, just
arrived from the station to the school. Right on the parade ground they unloaded their suitcases, and the mustachioed
foreman (the same one they tried to beat after the banquet)
ordered everyone to go to the bath. Everyone went - still without formation, in a herd, loudly
talking and laughing, but Kolya hesitated, because he rubbed his leg and sat
barefoot. While he was putting on his boots, everyone had already disappeared around the corner; Kohl jumped up

For the Germans - right. And I'm mine, Lieutenant Pluzhnikov.

What regiment?

He didn’t appear on the lists, ”Pluzhnikov grinned. - What, my turn to tell?

Turns out it's yours.

Pluzhnikov spoke about himself - without details and without concealment. The wounded man, who did not want to introduce himself yet, listened without interrupting, still holding his hand. And by the way the grip weakened, Pluzhnikov felt that his new comrade had very little strength left.

Now you can get acquainted, - said the wounded man, when Pluzhnikov finished the story. - Sergeant Major Semishny. From Mogilev.

Semishny was wounded a long time ago: the bullet hit his spine, and his legs gradually died off. He could no longer move them, but he still somehow crawled. And if he started to moan, it was only in a dream, but he endured it and even smiled. His comrades left and did not return, but he lived and stubbornly, with furious bitterness, clung to this life. He had some food, ammunition, and ran out of water three days ago. Pluzhnikov brought two buckets of snow at night.

Do your exercises, lieutenant, - Semishny said the next morning. “It’s not good for us to dismiss ourselves: we were left alone, without a medical unit.

He himself did exercises three times a day. Sitting, bending, spreading his arms until he began to choke.

Yes, it looks like you and I are alone, - Pluzhnikov sighed. - You know, if everyone gave an order to himself and carried it out, the war would have ended in the summer. Here at the border.

Do you think we are the only ones so beautiful? The foreman chuckled. - No, brother, I do not believe in it. I don't believe, I can't believe. How many miles to Moscow, do you know? Thousand. And at every verst the same as you and I lie. No better and no worse. And you're wrong about the order, brother. It is not necessary to fulfill your order, but an oath. What is an oath? An oath is an oath on a banner. - He suddenly turned stern and finished hard, almost evil: - Have a bite? So go and fulfill your oath. If you kill a German - come back. For every reptile I give two days of vacation: such is my law.

Pluzhnikov began to gather. The foreman watched him, and his eyes shone strangely in the timid flame of the candle.

Why don't you ask why I command you?

And you are the head of the garrison, - Pluzhnikov grinned.

I have such a right, - Semishny said quietly and very weightily. - I have the right to send you to death. Go.

And blew out the candle.

This time he did not follow the order of the foreman: the Germans went far, and he did not want to shoot just like that. He clearly began to see worse and, taking aim at distant figures, he realized that he would no longer be able to hit them. It remained to hope for an accidental head-on collision.

However, he did not manage to meet anyone on this segment of the ring barracks. The Germans held out in a different area, and behind them a multitude of some dark figures were vaguely visible. He thought they were women, the same women with whom Mirra had left the fortress, and decided to get closer. Maybe we could call someone, talk to someone, find out about Mirra and tell her that he is alive and well.

He ran across to the neighboring ruins, got out to the opposite side, but further on lay an open space, and during the day he did not dare to cross it through the snow. He wanted to return, but he saw a staircase littered with debris leading down to the cellars, and decided to go down there. Still, a trail stretched behind him from the ring barracks to these ruins, and, just in case, it was necessary to take care of a possible shelter.

With difficulty he made his way up the stairs cluttered with bricks, with difficulty squeezed his way down into the underground corridor. The floor here, too, was completely littered with bricks from the collapsed vault, you had to walk bent over. Soon he ran into a blockage and turned back, hurrying to get out, until the Germans spotted his trail. It was almost dark, he made his way, feeling the wall with his hand, and suddenly felt empty: he was moving to the right. He crawled into it, took a few steps, turned around the corner and saw a dry casemate: from above, light penetrated through a narrow crack. He looked around: the casemate was empty, only against the wall, directly opposite the loophole, on his overcoat lay a withered corpse in tattered and dirty uniforms.

He squatted down, peering at the remains, once former human. Hair was still preserved on the skull, a thick black beard rested on a half-decayed tunic. Through the torn collar, he saw the rags tightly wound around his chest, and realized that the soldier died here from his wounds, died looking at a patch of gray sky in the narrow slot of the loophole. Careful not to touch, he groped around for weapons or ammo, but found nothing. Apparently, this man died when there were still those upstairs who needed his cartridges.

He wanted to get up and leave, but under the skeleton lay an overcoat. Quite a good overcoat, which could serve the living: foreman Semishny was cold in a hole, and it was cold for Pluzhnikov himself to sleep under one jacket. He hesitated for a minute, not daring to touch the remains, but the overcoat remained an overcoat, and the dead man did not need it.

I'm sorry, brother.

He grabbed the floor, lifted the overcoat and gently pulled it out from under the remains of a soldier.

He shook his overcoat, trying to dislodge the stubborn putrid smell, stretched it out on his hands and saw a red stain of long-dried blood. I wanted to fold my overcoat, looked again at the red spot, lowered my hands and slowly looked around the casemate. He suddenly recognized him, and the overcoat, and the corpse in the corner, and the remains of a black beard. And he said in a trembling voice:

Hello, Volodya.

He stood for a while, carefully covered with his overcoat what was left of Volodya Denishchik, pressed down the edges with bricks and left the casemate.

The dead are not cold,” Semishny said when Pluzhnikov told him about the find. “The dead are not cold, Lieutenant.

He himself was cold under all the overcoats and pea jackets, and it was not clear whether he condemned Pluzhnikov or approved. He treated death calmly and said about himself that he was not freezing, but dying.

Death is taking me to pieces, Kolya. She is a cold thing, you can’t warm her with an overcoat.

Every day his legs became more and more dead. He could no longer crawl, he could hardly sit, but he continued his exercises stubbornly and fanatically. He did not want to give up, with a fight giving death every millimeter of his body.

I'll start moaning - wake me up. I won't wake up - shoot me.

What are you, chief?

And the fact that I don’t even have the right to get to the Germans dead. They will have too much joy.

This joy is enough for them,” Pluzhnikov sighed.

They did not see this joy! - Semishny suddenly pulled the lieutenant to him. - Don't give up the saint. Take a breath, don't give up.