Regimental Intelligence. Military intelligence during the Great Patriotic War

CHAPTER 4 Intelligence and the Free Society Today the United States is being challenged by a group of nations that have a different philosophy of life, a different worldview, and whose governments are hostile to us. This in itself is not a new discovery. We've encountered before

Chapter 12 open sources, is of little use until it falls into the hands of, so to speak, "users" - persons in power who make politics. And they should

Chapter 15 Intelligence in the Cold War Shortly before the Bolshevik Revolution in November 1917, the All-Russian elections of delegates to the Constituent Assembly, which was supposed to nominate the leaders of the new Russia, took place. These were the last and, apparently, the only free

CHAPTER 17 Intelligence and Our Freedoms From time to time we are warned that the intelligence and security services can become a threat to our freedoms, and the secrecy in which these services must by necessity operate is a phenomenon in itself.

Chapter 4. BUT INTELLIGENCE REPORTED EXACTLY... PROSCRIPT The bloody tragedy of June 22, 1941 was inevitably inevitable, because it was a foregone conclusion. However, not because Soviet intelligence (as a community of intelligence services of the USSR) was unable to establish the exact date of the attack.

Chapter 8 Intelligence in the Years of Unjustified Repressions Speaking about the chiefs of foreign intelligence, we were forced to point out that this or that leader died in 1937 or later as a result of Stalinist repressions. The terrible years of 1937-1939, called "Yezhovshchina",

April 1943

The death of Malechkin decided the fate of many of us. The soldiers with machine guns were given to rifle regiments, the battalion headquarters and its rear services were disbanded, and the 4th separate guards machine gun battalion ceased to exist.

For a new assignment, I was called to the divisional headquarters. After a short conversation, I was offered to transfer to regimental intelligence.

Decide youself! Or intelligence, or a rifle company in a regiment! Go, take a walk and give an answer!

I went out, had a smoke and agreed to the regimental reconnaissance. I was sent to the 52nd Guards Rifle Regiment. | Chief of Staff, Major N. Denisov I knew by sight. We had previously met with him several times at the divisional headquarters. I was assigned to him as an intelligence assistant. I was not familiar with the regiment commander.|

Although, in the position of chief of staff of a machine-gun battalion, I did not leave the front line for a long time, but intelligence was an unfamiliar and new business for me.

In a conversation with the commander of the regiment, I learned that there is an acute shortage of people in the regiment.

While we are on the defensive, he explained. - Take a closer look at your soldiers, study the front line and don’t poke your nose at the Germans in vain. Organize observation and take into account!

Now your scouts are used to protect the command post and are on night watch. You don't touch them. Do not distract from service. The defense is extended. There are not enough people in the regiment.

Look here! - and he, on the map, showed the area of ​​\u200b\u200bdefense of the regiment.

Height 203, Seltso, Starina, Left bank of the river Voprya, Height 248, Rekta, Pochinok | He, on the map, showed the area of ​​\u200b\u200bdefense of the regiment. |.

The German edge of defense runs along the unfinished embankment of the railway, the villages of Sklyaevo, Morozovo, the village of Petrovo, Height 243, Otrya and Zabobury. Further to the station Kazarina, Losevo, Ryadyni and Shamovo.

The possibility is not ruled out that the Germans will carry out reconnaissance in force of our front line, letting up to a company of soldiers. The chief of staff will give you an escort. You will go to the regimental intelligence platoon. You will be there. Get to know people. What you need is to come to me.

The regimental commander called the chief of staff. Major |Denisov| gave me an escort sergeant | telephone operator |. We went to the front line with him.

It was the last days of March. The air smelled of dampness and rotting leaves. The end of March turned out to be quiet and warm. The fog picked up the rest of the snow. The sun licked off the remains of ice in ravines and hollows. The roads dried up, but there was dirt in the lowlands.

At the forefront of their own order of walking in open areas. In the morning, movement within the line of sight ceased. The soldiers leaned against the walls of their trenches, slowly smoked cigarettes, and, for greater importance, sometimes looked out over the parapet, looking in the direction of the Germans. The Germans did not shoot at night, but they shone intensely with rockets. During the day, shells and mines flew in our direction. Small caliber to the comfrey, and heavy - to the rear.

Spring mud lay on top of the ground. In color and appearance, it matches the color of a soldier's overcoat. The same faded and colorless gray. The rains did not have time to wash last year's dirt off the ground. Bare bushes and trees were everywhere.

The regimental reconnaissance platoon was located in a ravine not far from the front line. It was possible to walk through the bushes here into the ravine even during the day unnoticed. Three small dugouts, dug into the slope of the ravine, stuck to each other on a small plot of land. Along the dugouts there is not a wide strip of dry earth trampled down by soldiers' feet.

There used to be trees above the ravine. They were cut down, and they were lying around. Separately standing trees can serve as a good sighting guide for the Germans. At the forefront, they always tried to remove them in advance.

We went down a steep path into a ravine, and went in the direction of the dugouts. A sentry stood beside them.

A soldier with a machine gun sat on the trunk of a fallen birch. He bent his head down and was picking something in the ground with a twig. He didn't pay any attention to us. How many people are wandering around here doing nothing?

We approached him. He gave us a quick glance. There are many Slavs here. They go to the front line, then they come back. They didn’t set up a ravine here to protect it from their own. The Germans are another matter. The Germans have a different uniform. See them right away.

In appearance, the sentry was no different from a soldier in a rifle company. Take at least a machine gunner for comparison. You can always tell him by the bones, by the width of his shoulders, from the shooter. The handler too. Because he is dressed. On the belt, which is below his stomach, dangles like a collar.

Frankly, I did not think that this was a scout. And so I decided that we did not reach the place.

The sentry was wearing some kind of shabby, torn and dirty overcoat. The hat is pressed down with a pancake from above. He has an unshaven face, smoke-stained hands with a black stripe under the nails.

I looked at his feet. On his feet are tarpaulin boots with a torn-off sole tied with a telephone wire. And who just gave him a machine gun hanging on his shoulder? The machine gun on his shoulder distinguished him somewhat from a simple infantryman.

Well, here we come! said the sergeant.

The sentry, having heard "Got it!" realized that we were in reconnaissance. He reluctantly got up from the birch, wiped his nose with his palm, turned his face in our direction and smiled. Coughing a little, in a cold, hoarse voice, he asked:

Whom to wake the sergeant? No squad leader! The foreman is also gone! The platoon commander is sleeping in the dugout! He, having come from duty!

The sergeant came up and sat down on a fallen birch. He took out a pouch and asked the sentry:

Will you smoke?

Let's spin!

The sergeant tore off a piece of newspaper and handed it to the scout. The soldier put his dirty paw into the sergeant's pouch, took a pinch with his fingers, and, rustling with a piece of newspaper, deftly twisted and sealed the cigarette with saliva. He nudged the sergeant with his elbow and bent down to light a cigarette. The soldier took a couple of puffs and looked at me. He looked and for some reason took a deep breath.

It is here in these three dugouts that your scouts are located! said the sergeant.

Wake up the platoon commander! Tell! The new chief of regimental intelligence has arrived!

Tomorrow we will pick up your phone here! We will connect with the headquarters of the regiment directly!

Make yourself comfortable, comrade senior lieutenant, and I'll probably go with your permission.

Certainly go! I agreed with a shrug.

An awakened platoon commander crawled out of the passage of the dugout. The sergeant said goodbye and leaned back.

The platoon commander, in an overcoat thrown over his shoulders, hunched over and sleepy, approached me. He wanted to report, as it should be in the form, but I stood him up and invited him to sit down on a fallen birch. He sat down next to me and continued to rub his eyes with his palm, yawning plaintively and loudly.

Sorry! I just went to bed after duty! More than a day and everyone is on their feet!

Nothing! Go wash up!

My suggestion to wash him embarrassed and even embarrassed him. He didn't know what to say or how to say that they never wash here at all. And they don't have water for this business.

Okay, smoke! I said, understanding his predicament.

When will the platoon leader return?

Fyodor Fedorych?

His name is Fyodor Fedorych?

Yes! They went with the foreman for uniforms and should return by tomorrow morning.

To the regimental warehouse?

No, to the medical battalion! They take pictures of the dead! If not torn and not shabby, ours are taken. The guys got worn out. Some don't have boots at all. Look like Pryakhin.

From the conversation with the platoon commander, I learned little.

That's what the senior sergeant! I haven't slept in over a day either. Show me a place where I can lie down, and let's sleep well with you.

He led me to the dugout, we went down into the darkness. He showed me a free place on the bunk and I lay down on a layer of pine needles. Under the head, the senior sergeant gave me some kind of bag. I woke up late. It's dark inside. I looked around - there was no one in the dugout. I lay down and listened to the voices outside. A bright slit was visible from the edge of the rag hanging in the aisle. It is now filled with light, then it is covered with the shadow of soldiers passing by. From the ravine it smells of smoke, incomprehensible snatches of speech are heard. Somewhere nearby rustled a two-handed saw, ax strikes on the branches are heard. Someone was clattering the shutter, apparently checking and cleaning weapons.

What kind of boss came to us? Sleeping and not getting out!

Who knows? Start with weapons? Or by last name will call?

I slowly got up from the bunk, climbed out, breathed in the clean morning air and stretched with pleasure.

Soldiers were sitting, standing and walking in the ravine. There was no senior sergeant among them.

And where is the platoon? I asked the sentry.

Now another young soldier was on duty. He was neatly dressed, smart and looked more cheerful.

I sat up late with the soldiers, asking them about their service in intelligence.

Similar information.

A military thriller from the author of the bestselling books "Front Soldier", "A Tanker Lives Three Battles. Duel with “Tigers” and “Siberian. In reconnaissance and penal battalion. Soviet armored trains against German panzers. Stalin armor against Krupp steel. In civilian life, he was a simple driver and in 1941, together with his entire locomotive brigade, he was mobilized into the bepo (the army nickname for armored trains) "Kozma Minin". He miraculously survived near Moscow in an unequal battle against Nazi tanks. After the hospital - front-line reconnaissance, sabotage raids on the German rear: at any cost to destroy railway bridges, "tear the piece of iron", derail enemy trains. But experienced machinists are worth their weight in gold, the crews of armored trains suffer huge losses, and the scout is returned to the safe house - to the very hell, to the railway battery near Stalingrad ... The book was also published under the title “Armor. "This train is on fire..."

A series: Military Adventure Library

* * *

by the LitRes company.

Regimental intelligence

The hospital in Ryazan ended up in a former school building. The wards are former classrooms, with twenty beds. But on the other hand, silence, peace, mattresses on the beds, sheets - unseen for the war, just a luxury. And the feed is good.

Sergey quickly went on the mend. The organism was young, strong, the thirst for life was enormous.

On the fifth day, when the dizziness stopped, he began to get out of bed and go to the windows. Outside, summer is in full swing, the trees are green, girls and women are walking past on the sidewalk.

Soldiers and officers gathered in the corridor to listen to reports from the Soviet Information Bureau. The situation on the fronts was difficult, the Germans rushed to the Volga, to the Caucasus. The wounded are people with combat experience and felt everything that the announcer did not say. If Levitan read: "... stubborn defensive battles are going on near the city," then expect changes and, as a rule, the surrender of the city.

Someone tried to get to the hospital even with a trifling wound - to lie down, and then completely get into the rear units - as riders, into military mail, into repair and restoration teams. But these were in the minority. Others rushed to the front without even recovering. The enemy is advancing and must be stopped. They fought not for communist ideas, although there were also fanatics, but for their father's house, for their families, for their homeland.

Then Sergei began to recover his hearing. It returned to the right ear towards the end of the day, when the fatal explosion sounded, but the left ear did not hear for a long time.

The sounds returned gradually. First, the left ear began to hear loud sounds, and even then it was like through cotton wool. But the treatment and rest gave their results, and after two weeks Sergey began to distinguish speech. However, the whisper has not yet been heard.

“In ten days, hearing will be restored,” the ENT doctor said, “the eardrum was not completely damaged. You are still lucky, barotrauma is a serious matter, after it, as a rule, deafness happens.

Sergei winced. Being deaf is bad, but even worse is being blind. There was a fighter in their ward who had his eyes gouged out by fragments of a mine. It's better to lose an arm or a leg.

Once Sergei dreamed nightmare. At first he saw himself on the dead locomotive, in the place of the driver. Rails and sleepers fly under the wheels, the headwind in the face - it takes your breath away. And then - the image of a woman-mother, as on military posters. She is silent, does not open her mouth, and Sergey hears her voice in his head. And the voice is familiar, as if mother's:

“Do not be sad, Sergunka! You will also have a new locomotive after the war. And now it is necessary to take up arms, the Fatherland is in danger!

Nearby, a wounded man screamed in his sleep, and Sergei woke up with a beating heart. He got up, looked around. The chamber was lit by the dim light of a blue camouflage bulb hanging over the door. The wounded were sleeping: some were snoring, others were moaning, sometimes screaming in their sleep, remembering the horrors of the war.

What was this dream? A vision of a shell-shocked brain, or did someone prophesy from above? Sergei was a Komsomol member, like many in the depot. But he believed in God. Not for show, of course - for this you will fly out of the Komsomol in no time. But when he got into the armored train, his mother handed him an icon - a small one, the size of a matchbox.

“Take care, wear it near your heart, and Nikola the saint will take the bullet away,” she admonished him.

Sergei lay down again, but did not fall asleep until morning.

He was discharged two weeks later. Together with other recovered people, he was put into a truck and brought to the collection point. There were servicemen of various specialties: signalmen and mortarmen, tankers and artillerymen, sappers and drivers. Almost every day, "buyers" came to the collection point - that's what the representatives of military units. They selected a team for themselves and returned to the unit. With a shortage of specialists, they took everyone. You can’t quickly train a gunner, but a physically strong fighter will completely replace a carrier of shells to a gun. As written in the documents: untrained, fit for military service.

The Germans were not like that. The wounded after hospitals returned not only to their branch of service, but always to their regiment, their battalion. They were surrounded by familiar faces, familiar mechanics, and the military fraternity cannot be discounted.

There were instructions in the Red Army - tankers only in tank forces, pilots - in flight units, gunners, especially from IPTaps - in artillery. Sergey, with his specialty as a machinist, turned out to be alone. "Buyers" came, with the teams went to their units, and Sergei was stuck at the assembly point. As for the machinists, there were no special instructions, and the "buyers" chose experienced warriors who knew the equipment of a kind of troops. And Sergei went on an adventure.

Are there people who served in intelligence? - Asked another "buyer", and Sergei stepped forward: - Private Zaremba.

The lieutenant nodded and made a note on the list with a pencil.

There were six people who served in intelligence. The lieutenant ordered them to move aside, and another "buyer" had already taken his place in front of the formation.

Are there mechanic drivers?

Meanwhile, the lieutenant collected the soldiers' books and began to look through them. Along the way, I studied certificates from the hospital and, when it came to Sergey, I was surprised:

- You said - from intelligence, but it says here - he was enlisted in the crew of armored train No. 659.

“Comrade lieutenant, there is also intelligence on armored trains,” Sergey lied.

There was reconnaissance on armored trains, only artillery, and even then on heavy ones. And "Kozma Minin", where he served, belonged to medium armored trains. But the lieutenant did not know such subtleties, did not want to lose face, and therefore simply nodded.

So Sergey got into regimental intelligence. Together with the lieutenant, they rode in a battered lorry to the location of the unit. Having suffered significant losses in battles, the regiment stood in the rear for resupplying. The "technical" units - tankers, artillerymen, pilots - were assigned far to the rear, as a rule, to factories producing military equipment. There they received it and departed with it to the front. And why send an infantry regiment to the deep rear? The main backbone is there, and recruits are easier to bring to the regiment.

They settled in the barracks. For regimental reconnaissance, there was a separate nook, separated from the main part by a plywood partition.

The lieutenant turned out to be the commander of a reconnaissance platoon - he was the "buyer". Unlike ordinary infantrymen, scouts were not occupied with bayonet fighting and marching in formation.

On the second day after arrival, the lieutenant led his fighters to the shooting range.

- Our service is secretive, and there is no place for shooting in it. If it came to shooting, consider it a failure. Quietly passed the front line, took the language - and back. If the Germans find themselves in their rear, they will not let them leave. And if on the “neutral” they will fall asleep with mines, the machine gunners will not allow to raise their heads. But still sometimes clashes happen. So I want to see who is capable of what. For starters, trophy weapons.

The sergeant pulled out two captured machine guns from the box, and Sergei, who had been worried until that moment, calmed down a little. He did not have much experience in shooting, but during a skirmish with saboteurs, Victor at least showed him how to handle captured weapons. Therefore, Sergey equipped the store and stuck it to the weapon, having previously thrown back the butt.

“Get into firing position,” the sergeant commanded.

The second fighter lay down, and Sergey remained standing.

The lieutenant chuckled - shooting while standing is more difficult, and either the newcomer is showing off, or he is actually a cool shooter.

Empty tin cans from the regimental kitchen were set as targets. Distance - fifty meters, the range of effective combat from a submachine gun.

- Fire! commanded the sergeant.

Sergey cocked the shutter, took aim, pressed the start button and immediately removed his finger. The shot was single. It was our, Soviet, submachine guns that parted like sewing machines, and the "Germans" had almost half the pace. Therefore, even without moving the translator to a single fire, it was possible to make single shots.

Bach! One bank jumped. Bach! The second jumped up and rolled.

But the second fighter began to shoot bursts - short, economical, three or four rounds each, but the barrel still lifted up. He used up half the magazine, and the hit turned out to be one. Sergei had four hits out of five shots.

“Not bad,” said the lieutenant.

Then other newcomers fired. Who is worse, who is better, but no one has surpassed Sergei.

Then they put up a plywood shield with a real target for shooting from a pistol. The sergeant handed one of the fighters a revolver and seven rounds of ammunition.

“Reload, fire when ready.

The lieutenant casually glanced at his watch.

The fighter fiddled with loading the drum for a long time - without the skill to load the revolver quickly will not work. Then seven shots were fired.

The lieutenant looked at his watch and grimaced. It is clear that in combat conditions, weapons are loaded in advance.

- Get the target!

The fighter brought a shield. All the bullets hit the target, but its center, the ten, remained unaffected.

Sergei fired second. He had already drawn attention to the fact that the lieutenant imperceptibly notes the time, and therefore, having received cartridges, he acted quickly. With a retractable ramrod, he threw out the spent cartridges and drove the cartridges into the chambers. The revolver was a pre-war release, the so-called officer, with self-cocking - before firing, you can not cock it first, just pull the trigger. But then aimed shooting will not work.

Such self-cocking shooting is necessary when colliding with an enemy at a short distance, three to five meters, when it is difficult to miss. Therefore, Sergei decided to shoot, cocking the trigger with his finger. As soon as he slammed the drum door, he cocked the trigger with his thumb, and the front sight lay in the center of the target. Shot. Immediately cocked the trigger again - a shot! And so seven times in a row, until the cartridges in the drum ran out.

Finished shooting! he reported.

- Get the target!

Sergei cheerfully ran after the shield.

The lieutenant began to examine the target, and from behind his shoulder the sergeant was curious.

The platoon commander was clearly disappointed: two bullets in the "ten", nearby, and five - and "nine", with a spread, there is no accuracy.

“One second, Comrade Lieutenant. - The sergeant pulled out a pencil stub from behind the lapel of the cap and connected the holes on the target. It turned out a five-pointed star.

The lieutenant raised his eyebrows in surprise.

- I saw excellent shooters, but so on! Yes, you are a sniper!

Sergei himself did not expect such talents from himself. He held a revolver in his hands for the third time in his life, but it turned out to show a high class. Decided - accidentally lucky. A well-known case, fools, drunks and newcomers are lucky.

But from now on, a nickname stuck to him. Each scout had a nickname that was used on the other front line by the Germans. Someone chose it for themselves, others were given by colleagues, taking into account character traits and surnames. But it stuck to Sergey after the shooting range.

AT hand-to-hand combat Sergei screwed up. He had strength and dexterity, but there was no knowledge of techniques. Likewise in knife fight. The knife fight was conducted by Sergeant Ilyin, who turned out to be nimble and, as it were, fast. Each fight with him ended in a few seconds, when the knife was at Sergey's neck.

- Leave classes, get ready! commanded the lieutenant. - You saw your own mistakes and shortcomings. You have to stretch and train. A week later, the regiment goes to the front line, and there will no longer be time for classes, the command will demand the completion of tasks: take the “language” or establish the position of the battery, the numbers of the opposing units and their weapons. Any flaw here will end in losses. We will work from morning to evening, until the seventh sweat. Is everyone clear? Who is afraid, does not agree - tell me right away, I will send it to the infantry. And now for lunch.

The platoon marched in formation, but no songs were sung. What are the songs about the victories of the Budennov horsemen, when the Germans are rushing on all fronts?

After dinner, half an hour of rest was supposed, and at this time a sergeant approached Sergei:

Where did you learn to shoot like that?

- In Osoaviakhim, when I rented for the Voroshilovsky shooter badge.

“Hmm,” the sergeant chuckled incredulously, “let's do it this way: you teach me secrets, and I teach you how to fight with knives.”

Sergei nodded. And in fact, do not argue with the sergeant.

The next day, when after breakfast the platoon went to the shooting range, the regimental commissar came. He was talking to the lieutenant, but Sergei was standing nearby and heard the whole conversation.

- Ivanov, how are the replenishment?

- In general, they are good fighters, some of them have talents. For example, at Private Zaremba.

- What are they?

- Shoots well.

- Yes? I'll shake the old one ...

Apparently, the commissioner was an excellent shooter. There is a platoon of scouts around, decisive, courageous fighters, don’t put your finger in your mouth like that, they’ll cut off your arm to the elbow. And if he misses, the word will spread throughout the regiment.

The commissar took out a revolver from his holster:

- Drop it!

The sergeant tossed a tin can high into the air. It is very difficult to hit the target on the fly, but the commissar fired and hit. The can flipped over in the air from the impact of the bullet.

When the can fell, one of the scouts picked it up and brought it to the commanders. The commissioner examined the hole in the bank with satisfaction and turned to the lieutenant:

- This is your...

- Zaremba ...

Yes, Zaremba. Can he do that?

The lieutenant turned around.

- Zaremba, come to me!

Sergei ran up. As it should be according to the Charter of the military service, he raised his palm to his temple and reported to the senior commander in full form. He saw the commissar's shot and appreciated it.

- Can you do that?

Sergei shrugged.

I haven't tried it, but it's possible.

The lieutenant pulled out a captured German "Walter RR" from his pocket and handed it to Sergei:

- Hold on. The trigger does not need to be cocked, as in a revolver.

Sergei moved away from the commanders for five steps. The sergeant took the can and looked at Sergei:

The can flew into the air. Oh, and cunning lieutenant! The gun sat in the hand like a glove, and the recoil is comfortable.

Sergei fired a shot, a second, a third, until he had used up the entire magazine, until the pistol had reached the slide stop. After each shot, the bank flew up and turned over. The bullets did not let her fall, and with their help she overcame the force of gravity over and over again. But the cartridges ran out, and the bank fell.

There was silence. Everyone saw Sergey's hits with their own eyes and were shocked. This is simply unrealistic, no one could shoot like that.

The sergeant came first. He ran for the can and brought it to the commanders. The commissioner took the jar in his hands - it was all riddled.

How many rounds were in the magazine? - he asked.

The commissar counted the holes - everything fit together.

“Son,” he turned to Sergei, “yes, you’re just unique, you should perform in the circus.” Well done!

Sergei stretched out at attention:

- I serve the working people!

The commissioner hesitated, then unfastened the strap wrist watch, took them off and handed them to Sergey:

- Hold it, wear it with honor. Semyon Mikhailovich himself presented them to me for excellent service at army competitions.

Sergey took the watch:

Thank you, comrade regimental commissar.

The commissar patted Sergei on the shoulder and left, and his colleagues immediately approached Sergei.

“Let me see,” the lieutenant asked.

Sergei handed him the watch. The lieutenant twisted them, turned them over. On the back was engraved the inscription: "For excellent shooting."

After the lieutenant, the sergeant took the watch, and then they completely went from hand to hand.

When everyone admired the gift and the watch returned to its new owner, the lieutenant said instructively:

- This is how every soldier should shoot! Then we will chase the enemy.

They set to work. Sergei felt an unusual heaviness on his arm: he had never had a watch before. Like a bicycle, watches were not in every family. And a motorcycle, the ultimate dream, was generally a rarity.

But in the evening of the same day, the commissar appeared to the scouts in the barracks, but not alone. With him was a captain unknown to Sergei.

- Zaremba, in intelligence you will bury your talent in the ground. You need to go to sniper school. You are a ready-made sniper, - the captain began to process him.

- I served in intelligence, I want to continue, - Sergey rested.

Either service on a steam locomotive, then a hospital, now they are offering studies ... Sergei wanted to go to the front, beat the Nazis.

The captain talked to him for a quarter of an hour, but did not get his way.

It's a pity the talent is gone. You know, in reconnaissance, shooting is a mission failure. Who will work with a knife, we will find, we need snipers. On the regiment of the order - send two sensible fighters.

“It happened by accident, Comrade Captain.

- That's stubborn! You will regret it, service in intelligence is not sugar.

- So the sniper is no better.

The captain swore in annoyance and left.

The lieutenant came up and asked:

What did he want from you?

- He was a sniper.

- He is supposed to be the head of combat training. And you?

- Refused.

- Oh well…

The lieutenant clearly liked Sergei's refusal. The platoon commander himself chose and brought newcomers, why on earth should they be transferred to another unit?

The next day, they learned to throw knives, fight with sapper shovels, and throw grenades.

The scouts sharpened their shoulder blades to razor sharpness, so you can easily cut an enemy’s neck like with an ax. And to dig a shelter like a shallow trench if necessary. Prior to this, Sergei thought that the spatula was needed only for digging. But some craftsmen threw a sapper shovel at the target no worse than a knife, driving the blade into a log by a third. For a scout, a knife is more important than a machine gun, they can silently remove a sentry, kill a machine gunner. And therefore, a lot of time was devoted to training with a knife and a sapper shovel.

They were also taught to camouflage themselves on the ground, to crawl secretly, to detect mines. The Germans in no man's land always installed minefields with anti-personnel and anti-tank mines. There was a scout from the former sappers in the platoon, and it was his job to defuse the mine. But the scout himself had to find it and bypass it.

Often the Germans used jumping mines - our soldiers called them "frogs". If you stepped on one, the drummer cocked it, removed his leg, the expelling charge throws the mine up a meter, and it explodes there. An explosion on such a mine always crippled - the explosion tore off the legs. Often it was not possible to bandage, apply a tourniquet. And the triggered mine on the "neutral" is a signal for the Germans. Then they began to fill the no-man's land with mines from company mortars, and they did not spare the mines.

The shells from the cannon entered the ground thoroughly, leaving deep craters, and those around had a chance to survive. And the mine exploded as soon as it touched the ground, and fragments flew over the surface, hitting those lying.

And the machine-gunners on duty did not spare their cartridges, every few minutes they beat into the darkness with harassing fire. And if the "frog" worked! Rocket men illuminated the "neutral" with flares on parachutes, and machine gunners fired at any suspicious shadow, any movement.

All this the lieutenant and the sergeant told and showed to the soldiers. There was nothing new for the platoon's seasoned scouts, but others, like Sergei, listened intently. At the front, any mistake could lead to the death, and not only of one's own, but of the entire group.

For ten days, the scouts were trained, they were given the basics of service. The regiment was understaffed with recruits who had undergone initial training in the reserve regiments and sent in echelons to the front. Their regiment was replaced at night by another, badly battered, in the battalions of which there were barely 5070 fighters. The platoon and company commanders, as well as batteries, handed over to the replacements the location of German firing points, minefields, positions of mortar and artillery batteries. All information was put on maps, and the regiment, battered in battles, left its positions at night.

Settled in their own dugouts. The reconnaissance platoon occupied dugouts not far from the regimental headquarters, as often happened. For Sergei, as well as for other newcomers, it was unusual. Now the tracer line will fly by, then the flares soar up, illuminating the area with a deadly light.

In the morning, the lieutenant and the sergeant went to the front line to observe the enemy through binoculars. A map is good, but there was always a possibility that during the night the Germans could dig and equip a new machine-gun point, put additional mines. From our line of trenches and trenches to the German ones there were three hundred meters, you can’t make out with the naked eye, without binoculars and a stereo tube.

The sergeant and lieutenant returned in the evening, gloomy. Sitting in the dugout, the sergeant said:

- The positions are heavily fortified, and they have a sniper. Shoots accurately, bastard. I leaned out inadvertently - literally for a second, began to lower my head, and a bullet hit the parapet. So, lads, wind on your mustache.

In the evening, an order was already received - to take the "language". The lieutenant and the sergeant pondered over the map for a long time, deciding where it would be better to cross the German positions.

In the first line of trenches, there were usually privates. Officers' dugouts are located between the first and second lines of trenches. The officer is the best "language", he knows where and what units of the regiment are located, what actions the command is planning. And an ordinary, except for a corporal or sergeant major, often does not know anything. So it turns out that there is a lot of risk, but zero sense.

The group was to be led by a sergeant. He was in intelligence back in the Finnish campaign and fought since June 1941. With him were three of the experienced scouts. A lieutenant escorted them to our trenches.

The scouts put on German boots, took captured weapons and jumped. Sergei almost laughed: why jump? But colleagues explained that jumping was a test for noise. If a weapon or a knife in a case rattles somewhere, a grenade - be in trouble, they will find it.

When the group left, Sergei pestered with questions to the senior platoon, Corporal Sinitsyn:

- Why did you put on German boots?

- Their soles are different, and there are horseshoes, prints remain on the wet ground. If the prints of Soviet boots, the Germans will follow in the footsteps. In their near rear, the field police are active, geheimfeldpolizei. They are still pros, like our rear guard troops. And the worst thing is that they have shepherd dogs, they will definitely come out on the trail to the group. That's why they wear German boots and carry tobacco in their pockets. It is best to use shag, sprinkle traces, then the dogs will not take the trace.

The scout answered in detail, and Sergei was interested.

- Are the weapons German?

- If there was a clash, it would not be clear what kind of shooting. Our machine guns differ in sound from the German ones, and it immediately becomes clear to the Germans that the Russians are in the rear.

- Understood. And why grenades and cartridge bags behind the belt at the back?

- It's more comfortable to crawl. Shops still stick in boots. The Germans have wide boot tops, a bell, and each of them just fits into the store. In battle, it is always at hand, it is convenient to get it.

It seems like a trifle, but Sergei did not know them. Only these trifles can turn out to be significant, capable of changing the course of a sortie to the German rear.

The platoon went to bed - it was night time. And in the morning, at dawn, the lieutenant returned. He looked gloomy, preoccupied, and Sergey realized that something was wrong.

And so it turned out. Already in the morning, shooting broke out on the German positions.

The group did not return by morning, and the lieutenant, having reasonably reasoned, realized that the group had died. But the best, most experienced scouts left for the raid.

Nobody canceled the combat order to take the “tongue”, and the next night the capture of the “tongue” had to be repeated. Of course, the Germans will now be on their guard.

The lieutenant himself selected the group and decided to lead it. The group included two fighters with experience and Sergey. He was very worried, although he tried to hide his excitement.

He had the first entry into reconnaissance, but experienced wolves were also worried. One tried in vain to fall asleep, the other was aimlessly chiseling a twig.

Sergei checked, cleaned and lubricated the machine. It might not be necessary to shoot, but if there was a shootout, he must be sure of the weapon.

Sergey stuffed the magazine with cartridges, screwed the fuses into the grenades. I took not two, but three "F-1" - powerful, defensive grenades. And it is convenient to use them - unlike "RGD". The knife was sharpened to razor sharpness, first on a whetstone, then on a leather belt.

End of introductory segment.

* * *

The following excerpt from the book Armored train. Stalinist armor against Krupp steel (Yu. G. Korchevsky, 2015) provided by our book partner -

Home | Content | Chapter 21 The text of the chapter was typed [email protected]
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09/22/1983 (author's edit) Regimental intelligence
April 1943
The death of Malechkin decided the fate of many of us. The soldiers with machine guns were given to rifle regiments, the battalion headquarters and its rear services were disbanded, and the 4th separate guards machine gun battalion ceased to exist. For a new assignment, I was called to the divisional headquarters. After a short conversation, I was offered to transfer to regimental intelligence. - Decide youself! Or intelligence, or a rifle company in a regiment! Go, take a walk and give an answer! I went out, had a smoke and agreed to the regimental reconnaissance. I was sent to the 52nd Guards Rifle Regiment. |Chief of Staff Major Denisov N.I. I knew by sight. We had previously met with him several times at the divisional headquarters. I was assigned to him as an intelligence assistant. With the regimental commander I was not familiar.| Although, in the position of chief of staff of a machine-gun battalion, I did not leave the front line for a long time, but intelligence was an unfamiliar and new business for me. In a conversation with the commander of the regiment, I learned that there is an acute shortage of people in the regiment. “While we are on the defensive,” he explained. - Take a closer look at your soldiers, study the front line and don’t poke your nose at the Germans in vain. Organize observation and take into account! - Now your scouts are used to guard the command post and stand in the night patrols. You don't touch them. Do not distract from service. The defense is extended. There are not enough people in the regiment. - Look here! - and he, on the map, showed the area of ​​\u200b\u200bdefense of the regiment. - Height 203, Seltso, Starina, Left bank of the Voprya River, Height 248, Rekta, Pochinok. - The German edge of defense runs along the unfinished embankment of the railway, the villages of Sklyaevo, Morozovo, the village of Petrovo, Height 243, Otrya and Zabobury. Further to the station Kazarina, Losevo, Ryadyni and Shamovo. - The possibility is not ruled out that the Germans will carry out reconnaissance in battle of our front line, letting up to a company of soldiers. The chief of staff will give you an escort. You will go to the regimental intelligence platoon. You will be there. Get to know people. What you need is to come to me. The regimental commander called the chief of staff. Major |Denisov| gave me an escort sergeant | telephone operator | . We went to the front line with him. It was the last days of March. The air smelled of dampness and rotting leaves. The end of March turned out to be quiet and warm. The fog picked up the rest of the snow. The sun licked off the remains of ice in ravines and hollows. The roads dried up, but there was dirt in the lowlands. At the forefront of their own order of walking in open areas. In the morning, movement within the line of sight ceased. The soldiers leaned against the walls of their trenches, slowly smoked cigarettes and, for greater importance, sometimes looked out over the parapet, looking in the direction of the Germans. The Germans did not shoot at night, but they shone intensely with rockets. During the day, shells and mines flew in our direction. Small caliber to the comfrey, and heavy - to the rear. Spring mud lay on top of the ground. In color and appearance, it matches the color of a soldier's overcoat. The same faded and colorless gray. The rains did not have time to wash last year's dirt off the ground. Bare bushes and trees were everywhere. The regimental reconnaissance platoon was located in a ravine not far from the front line. It was possible to walk through the bushes here into the ravine even during the day unnoticed. Three small dugouts, dug into the slope of the ravine, stuck to each other on a small plot of land. Along the dugouts there is not a wide strip of dry earth trampled down by soldiers' feet. There used to be trees above the ravine. They were cut down, and they were lying around. Separately standing trees can serve as a good sighting guide for the Germans. At the forefront, they always tried to remove them in advance. We went down a steep path into a ravine, and went in the direction of the dugouts. A sentry stood beside them. A soldier with a machine gun sat on the trunk of a fallen birch. He bent his head down and was picking something in the ground with a twig. He didn't pay any attention to us. How many people are wandering around here doing nothing? We approached him. He gave us a quick glance. There are many Slavs here. They go to the front line, then they come back. They didn’t set up a ravine here to protect it from their own. The Germans are another matter. The Germans have a different uniform. See them right away. In appearance, the sentry was no different from a soldier in a rifle company. Take at least a machine gunner for comparison. You can always tell him by the bones, by the width of his shoulders, from the shooter. The handler too. Because he is dressed. On the belt, which is below his stomach, dangles like a collar. Frankly, I did not think that this was a scout. And so I decided that we did not reach the place. The sentry was wearing some kind of shabby, torn and dirty overcoat. The hat is pressed down with a pancake from above. He has an unshaven face, smoke-stained hands with a black stripe under the nails. I looked at his feet. On his feet are tarpaulin boots with a torn-off sole tied with a telephone wire. And who just gave him a machine gun hanging on his shoulder? The machine gun on his shoulder distinguished him somewhat from a simple infantryman. - Well, here we are! said the sergeant. The sentry, having heard "Got it!" realized that we were in reconnaissance. He reluctantly got up from the birch, wiped his nose with his palm, turned his face in our direction and smiled. Coughing a little, in a cold, hoarse voice, he asked: - Whom should the sergeant wake up? No squad leader! The foreman is also gone! The platoon commander is sleeping in the dugout! He, having come from duty! The sergeant came up and sat down on a fallen birch. He took out a pouch and asked the sentry: - Will you smoke? - Let's spin it! The sergeant tore off a piece of newspaper and handed it to the scout. The soldier put his dirty paw into the sergeant's pouch, took a pinch with his fingers, and, rustling with a piece of newspaper, deftly twisted and sealed the cigarette with saliva. He nudged the sergeant with his elbow and bent down to light a cigarette. The soldier took a couple of puffs and looked at me. He looked and for some reason took a deep breath. - It is here in these three dugouts that your scouts are located! said the sergeant. - Wake up the platoon commander! Tell! The new chief of regimental intelligence has arrived! - We'll pick up the phone for you tomorrow! We will connect with the headquarters of the regiment directly! - Make yourself comfortable, comrade senior lieutenant, and I'll probably go with your permission. - Certainly go! I agreed with a shrug. An awakened platoon commander crawled out of the passage of the dugout. The sergeant said goodbye and leaned back. The platoon commander, in an overcoat thrown over his shoulders, hunched over and sleepy, approached me. He wanted to report, as it should be in the form, but I stood him up and invited him to sit down on a fallen birch. He sat down next to me and continued to rub his eyes with his palm, yawning plaintively and loudly. - Sorry! I just went to bed after duty! More than a day and everyone is on their feet! - Nothing! Go wash up! My suggestion to wash him embarrassed and even embarrassed him. He didn't know what to say or how to say that they never wash here at all. And they don't have water for this business. - Okay, smoke! I said, understanding his predicament. - When will the platoon leader return? - Fyodor Fedorych? - His name is Fyodor Fedorych? - Yes! They went with the foreman for uniforms and should return by tomorrow morning. - To the regimental warehouse? - No, in the medical battalion! They take pictures of the dead! If not torn and not shabby, ours are taken. The guys got worn out. Some don't have boots at all. Look like Pryakhin. From the conversation with the platoon commander, I learned little. - That's what the senior sergeant! I haven't slept in over a day either. Show me a place where I can lie down, and let's sleep well with you. He led me to the dugout, we went down into the darkness. He showed me a free place on the bunk and I lay down on a layer of pine needles. Under the head, the senior sergeant gave me some kind of bag. I woke up late. It's dark inside. I looked around - there was no one in the dugout. I lay down and listened to the voices outside. A bright slit was visible from the edge of the rag hanging in the aisle. It is now filled with light, then it is covered with the shadow of soldiers passing by. From the ravine it smells of smoke, incomprehensible snatches of speech are heard. Somewhere nearby rustled a two-handed saw, ax strikes on the branches are heard. Someone was clattering the shutter, apparently checking and cleaning weapons. - What kind of boss came to us? Sleeping and not getting out! - Who knows? Start with weapons? Or by last name will call? I slowly got up from the bunk, climbed out, breathed in the clean morning air and stretched with pleasure. Soldiers were sitting, standing and walking in the ravine. There was no senior sergeant among them. - And where is the platoon commander? I asked the sentry.
Now another young soldier was on duty. He was neatly dressed, smart and looked more cheerful. I sat up late with the soldiers, asking them about their service in intelligence.

I woke up early, no one woke me up in the morning. I lay and looked at the bright streaks and spots of light that made their way from behind the edge of the tent fabric hanging in the aisle. I watched and thought about how my new service and future life would turn out, how things would go in the reconnaissance platoon, what are these people? Now I had to fight with them. I myself vaguely imagined the work of a scout, I did not know the details. Upon arrival at the regiment, I had a conversation with the commander of the regiment and the chief of staff. They asked me who I was, where I came from, how long had I been at the front? The task of reconnaissance was not even set for me. This, they say, is your own business and how to conduct reconnaissance, think for yourself. The time will come, they will demand a language from you, and how it is better to take it, how to track it down, and where it is better to do it, I must be able to and think all this myself. My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a cart rattling in a ravine. There was the snorting of a horse, the tinkling of a bridle, unfamiliar voices of soldiers, and a conversation between two people, apparently sitting on a cart. The platoon commander had arrived, I decided, got up from the bunk and went to the exit. Pulling back the curtain that hung at the entrance to the dugout, I went out into the white light and saw a cart. The carrier unharnessed the mare. He took off the bridle from the horse, untied the reins, and the mare poked her lips into his sleeve, pushed and waited until a crumbling crust of bread appeared from his pocket. The foreman also stood with his back to me by the cart. In a hoarse, calm voice, he gave the soldiers his commands, where to wear what and where to put what was brought. With the appearance of the foreman in the ravine, the scout soldiers perked up. I stood silently and watched them with interest. I watched as they approached the wagon, took worn-out soldier's clothes and carried them to the indicated place. From conversations it was possible to understand that now they would receive strong boots and replace overcoats burned through during the winter, tunics and trousers worn to holes. The very fact of these minor changes was an important event for them. A change of old, unusable clothes, and they have high spirits in their souls. Used, repaired boots and overcoats touched the soldiers' hearts. Everyone watched and kept an eye on in advance what he would get from the common heap. I looked at the soldiers and watched them in action, at their desire to throw off their holey clothes, take off their trampled boots. While I silently watched and pondered my observations, someone quietly approached me from behind and gently touched my shoulder with his hand. I turned around. Fyodor Fedorych stood before me.

I looked at Ryazantsev and thought: - How will my new service and work in intelligence work out. |- What kind of people with whom I fight together?| Until now, I did not quite clearly understand the work of regimental intelligence, I did not know all the subtleties in their daily affairs. I had experience in rifle and machine gun companies. In battles, more than once it was necessary to conduct reconnaissance of villages and heights. But that was reconnaissance in the company's offensive zone. And here? Regiment front. Having received the appointment, I not only needed to know this matter myself, but also to teach people the intricacies of regimental intelligence. The platoon commander, as I was told at the regimental headquarters, had also recently arrived at the platoon. Came from the rear from short-term courses. Consider there is no combat experience in the war. Experience in intelligence is very small. In a conversation with me, the regiment commander did not set specific tasks for reconnaissance. Probably everywhere. Think and decide for yourself. And how it is necessary - no one knows! There is no one to teach you! The authorities have no time to deal with this. It's none of his business. The front is not a piece of paper on which the report is written. The chiefs believe that the war is not up to study. When it will be necessary to take the tongue, they will tell me. - And how to take it? This is your business, brother! You won’t go to the language and just won’t grab it. Here you probably need to decompose everything and calculate in minutes and seconds. My thoughts were interrupted by the creak of a wagon, which drove into a ravine and stopped at the entrance of the dugout. The frequent breathing of a horse was heard, soldiers ran in. The platoon commander and the foreman arrived, I decided, and went to meet them. Turning around the dugout, I saw a cart and a foreman. The wagon driver ran up to the wagon and a flock of unraveling the reins. The horse poked with wet lips and fiddled with his sleeve. The foreman was standing by the cart with his back to me. He was talking about something to the soldiers. I stopped halfway and silently watched the soldiers. It was interesting for me to look at them and listen to what they have to say. From their conversations, one could understand that they received overcoats and boots, but there are very few of them and not many will throw off their holey overcoats and boots. Pushover. Worn overcoats. And in a person's life a whole event. Cast-offs taken from the dead stirred the soldiers. How little a man needs! | Each of them looked and wondered what he would get from this heap of things. The usual thing! Throw off your leaky clothes!| Someone put his hand into the cart and dragged his boots. The foreman quickly noticed, raised his finger and threatened without turning around. | Only in the work and in the case is revealed on the present soldier. Hurry, you won't recognize him in a hurry.
Someone came up behind me and gently touched my sleeve. I thought that the horse was pulling and asking for bread. I turned around and saw in front of me not a horse, but a platoon leader. The same one, Fyodor Fyodorych Ryazantsev, with whom I was to fight together. I already knew that there were many failures and losses in regimental reconnaissance. Successes are rare. They can be counted on the fingers.| I greeted him and immediately noticed that he was decently succumbing. But he pretended not to notice. I decided to myself that I would not even pretend. You never know what could happen to a person. You never know what made him drink. It is not worth starting a service with a conflict. Perhaps this is a random thing. It can happen to anyone if the authorities unfairly faked it. We went to a fallen birch, sat on its trunk and lit a cigarette. The conversation did not go well, we were both silent. I was waiting for it to start. And he decided that I would ask questions. - The regiment told me that you are also a Muscovite. - Yes! he replied. - Don't talk! I thought. Thus began our joint service. We were destined to fight together in intelligence for about a year. For a regimental scout, this is not a short period of time, considering that the period of stay on the front line is generally calculated in several weeks. The Almighty cut off a solid term for us Muscovites. A year in regimental intelligence is like eternity itself! Working behind the front line is hard and dangerous. It's not like sitting in a trench and scratching yourself with lice. Death every day pulls people out of our small reconnaissance group. In the regimental reconnaissance, together with me, Ryazantsev, foreman Voloshin, the wagon driver Valeev and the horse named "Manka", there are only twenty living souls. The next day, from a leisurely story by Fyodor Fedorych, I learned that before the war he lived in Moscow on Rozhdestvenka Street, house 2. The entrance is from the yard to the right. Now this two-story house is gone. After the war, the Children's World building was built in its place. “I worked as a carver,” he said. The work is dirty. Stone dust stands in a column, eats into the skin. After work, neither soap nor a brush can be scraped off. I really needed money. I drank every day. On the stone always had extra money. Let's take a private order. We cut out a pedestal and a tombstone from granite, polish it - drive the money on the table. Come on, take into account how many slabs I cut out of a block. My wife and daughter live in Moscow, on Rozhdestvenka there. But I got married badly. I'll tell you straight. I got a stubborn, scandalous and loud-mouthed woman. Where do these women come from? Scandal for no reason. She seems to have an illness. He only got rid of her when he went to the front as a volunteer. And at work I had armor from the army. We made tombstones for the higher authorities. I used to live in the village with my father. The family was big. They lived in poverty, there was not enough bread. There lived a craftsman in our village. So my father attached me to his craft to learn. At first I was a student on errands, then I was assigned to cut a stone. Cut stone, marble, granite. They cut down inscriptions, bas-reliefs and everything else. Soon our master was taken away and imprisoned, it seems that he was connected with the Socialist-Revolutionaries. Our artel broke up. I went to Moscow. I was there at various jobs. Drawn to the stone. Went as a carver. There was a small stone processing plant in Moscow at that time. Before the war he got married. I didn't know much about girls back then. They all seemed to me good for family life. And I ran into a fool with a tinned throat. I myself am not a particular fan of arguing and swearing. She will scream, and I will go and get drunk. I was accustomed to vodka from a young age. Stonecutters cannot work without vodka. Dust in the throat climbs. The blocks lie in the open air. In winter, snow and cold. Rain in autumn. It's hot in summer. In winter, granite blocks breathe cold. In the summer it is hot around them, there is nothing to breathe. I am not drawn to vodka at all. No, I don't care! And if there is - pour it! Why should I refuse it? The body is healthy. Every glass helps! Ryazantsev was strong and strong in his physique. Hard physical labor did its job. He was of small stature. Shoulders are wide. Callused hands. Hair blonde. The eyes are blue-grey. His face breathed health. There was a blush on her cheeks. The upper lip is protruded, pour and substitute an iron mug. By age, Ryazantsev was several years older than me. - In an open area where blocks are cut, - he continued, - There is such a rattle and clang that the voices of people are not heard. I was afraid to be deaf. Water is poured onto the edge of the disc cutters for lubrication and cooling. Hammers clatter nearby, chisels emit a shrill screech when struck. Granite dust on teeth and throat. You spit, you sneeze, and out of your mouth, like a black toad, fell out. You walk on water. Water splashes behind the collar. When you finish your shift, wash it off with water, lather it with soap, dirt stuck to your body. At home you go spitting cement. Of the men in the yard, I earned the most. The neighbors were jealous of my wife. I gave her my salary, and kept the left earnings with me in my pocket. Lately, I've been running away from home. She sees that I'm getting dressed, open the door and let's yell at the whole house. Waiting for the neighbors to get together. I am tired of this. I'm glad that I was taken into the army. Got rid of the fool. Here she was in my throat. Ryazantsev frowned and ran the edge of his hand over his throat. - If they do not kill, the war will end, I will not return to it. This matter is settled. You will marry, senior lieutenant, God forbid, if you come across such a fool. At the recruiting office, I was offered to go to a military school. Why do I think the brains of any science clog. But the comrades persuaded. The office is clean. That's how I became clean. When I arrived at the regiment, I was offered to go to reconnaissance. Here I am. - And how are you with general literacy? I asked. - Gramotenka, six classes. I can't walk in azimuth with a map. You better send me to the Germans for languages. Having finished the work, the foreman approached us. Greeted, sat down on a birch. So we sat for some time, discussing various matters. In the evening, Ryazantsev and I must go to the front line. I wanted to inspect the front line of the regiment's defenses. There are no more than a hundred soldiers in each battalion on the front line. The front line was greatly stretched. The soldiers were missing. The Germans could conduct reconnaissance in force at night and fall on the trench. The battalion commanders got the regiment commander to send scouts to night patrols. The scouts had one task, the protection of the headquarters of the regiment and night patrols. In intelligence, too, there were not enough people. One person was sent to the night patrols. - How so? I asked Ryazantsev. - Hurt someone or kill! And there is no one to give first aid. - What can I do? Reduce the number of posts? - Of course! If the Germans show up at night, they will still be discovered. After the distribution of food, we went to the front line with a small group of scouts. I asked the soldiers where and how they were observing. - We sit in funnels, before a dawn we leave back. - Are you moving forward far from the front line? - Three hundred meters, no more. - What can you see from there? - Lie down in the funnel and listen. The Germans are not visible. - Did you go under the embankment? - Went! The Germans patrol it at night. Hear how they talk. - It doesn't hurt to see where our soldiers are on duty at night! I said to Ryazantsev. - Let's go let's go! - Well, let's go then! We went with two soldiers to the place where they lay. Climbing out of the trench onto the soft ground, we squatted down and listened. You need to look at the neutral zone and choose a direction. That's how it's done. Each regimental intelligence has its own customs. Rising to our feet, we followed the soldiers who were walking ahead. Their dark figures glided silently down the slope. The soldiers stopped several times, squatted and looked around. Ryazantsev and I repeated their every move. But then the branches of the bushes began to whip in the face, the soldiers slowly crossed the ravine. Only three hundred meters, and at night they seem like a whole verst. You can't sneeze or cough. As soon as the scout stepped over the parapet, he should be completely silent. Neither ask nor answer. You go, repeat the movements of the front ones, who can give you a prearranged signal only with your hand. The soldiers slowed down, signaled with their hands and stopped. One of them bent down and sat down. Another signaled for us to come closer. They deepened the funnel somewhat. Two people could fit in it. Fresh earth, they poured into bags and before dawn they carried away with them and dumped near the trench. Do not leave fresh emissions near the funnel. By the heaps of fresh earth, the Germans can pinpoint the place of the night watch. During the day they will find out, and at night they will put a mine. Everything is logical. But the Germans have not yet come forward from their trench. In small groups they are afraid to walk. This, in fact, was my first exit with scouts into the neutral zone. I used to go, but then there were no scouts with me. We did not stay long with the soldiers. They remained on duty, and Ryazantsev and I returned back. I thought that later at the headquarters of the regiment I would have a conversation about night posts and patrols. I decided in advance to go out and see everything in place. I had little idea what exactly the scouts were guarding in the neutral zone. |What exactly? The front line or the dream of the soldiers of the shooters sitting in the trench. | Leaving the trench and moving forward is an unpleasant business at first. When you are sitting in a trench covered with earth from bullets, it seems to be more fun in your soul. And walking on the open surface of the earth under the noses of the Germans is dangerous, you can run into bullets or shrapnel and there is nowhere to hide. There are times when the bullet flies inaudibly, | as a mine on approach. | | This is yours. She knocks unexpectedly and consider that your song is sung. Or another case. You return to the trench. Here you can easily run into a bullet. Wakes up, what a black grouse, shoots with fright at you. Aiming, he will never hit. And so, waking up, be sure to plant. | Of the machine gun rezanut just in case. They'll think the shot was an alarm. Although everyone knows that our people are ahead. But anything happens. They will decide that they were slammed a long time ago and that there is a line behind the trench. Then such things will be told that regimental tactics and strategists will not understand. | Fyodor Fedorych said that one of the guys was killed like that. He received a bullet from his own. You don't expect a bullet from your own. You get it unexpectedly. You bow under German bullets. They shoot at the system. You are waiting for them and you know when to be on your guard. You count the seconds. You stand, you look and you decide whether they cut it or not. The Germans meet us and see us off with lead. We do not fight, we go to death every day and there seems to be no heroism in this. Such work is to go to death! The fear is not that the bullet will hit you. Fear in anticipation as she flies by. And when she hit, broke her leg, burned her neck, or turned her cheekbone, there was no more fear. The bullet didn't miss. | And if you have the strength to run, hobble or crawl to your own, hurry up. And then you lose a lot of blood. And if there is no strength, wait, lie down. You won't show up before dawn, they'll come for you and take you away. I got to my trench, they bandaged you, put bandages on you, you can take a break. Then the fear appears again, whether you have gangrene. But this will pass when they put you on a stretcher, lift you from the trench to the surface of the earth. You will again think about the bullets, shells and mines that the Germans launch so that the Slavs do not forget where they are. But then they dragged you to the ravine, put you on the ground, where you are waiting for the wagon. On the way to the sanitary battalion, the wagon may come under fire. You are lying on the wagon, looking at the sky, and the wagon driver dropped the reins, ran away and lay down in a ditch. He will lie there until the shelling ends. It is easier to deal with fear when you are on your feet than to lie helplessly like this and wait for a shell to explode nearby and fragments to hit you like a fan. It's good that you didn't get on the cart of the regimental convoy. Out to that big-faced guy with a whip behind his top and with a mug like a Moscow cab driver. He will throw you into a ditch. Lie there until the morning, while someone else picks up. And he will leave lightly at a gallop while the German shoots the place. Lucky you. You're alive, you made it to the operating table. They cut your clothes, unwound the bandages, undressed you, washed you, shaved where you needed to, and tied you to the table. They did not have time to give anesthesia, and German planes were in the sky. Doctors and sisters left in the “hole”, and you again look at the ceiling, left alone with your thoughts, fears and hopes. You are lying under a white sheet, and earth is pouring down on you from the ceiling. You mentally prepared for death, but she did not hurry. Fear in war is everywhere and everywhere. All experiences can be summed up in one word - fear. The one who fought knows the value of this word. That big-faced cabman's eyes popped out of fear. He had not just fear, but an animal. Only silly boys have more curiosity in their eyes than fear. They have not seen death, and when you don’t know what to be afraid of. The political officer Senkevich, when he fled from under Bely, leaving the soldiers, had a specific - panic fear for his life and skin. Then he went up the hill. Here's how it happens. Fears are also different. I'm talking about fear, but it would be necessary to recall our old Berezin to the point. He did not feel fear when eight thousand soldiers were captured by the Germans near Bely. He was afraid that he would be shot. And so, he covered himself with a soldier's overcoat and went towards the city and no one else saw him. And at the command post of the army headquarters, a car with people from counterintelligence was waiting for him. They were instructed to take him and take him where he needed to go. There is no fear when you give in to alcohol. Ryazantsev in a drunk look could go and climb over the German wire.| We have left the neutral zone. Twenty meters ahead is our trench. - Something cold back! By morning, the weather will probably change! Ryazantsev said. I also have chills under my shoulder blades. Behind us, German tracer bullets were rushing after us. An unpleasant feeling when you walk and feel lead in your back. On the way to the ravine it was possible to talk. I asked Ryazantsev: - What do you think? What is the purpose of the night watch? - What are they doing? Are they defending or guarding the infantry? - What is there to think? I was ordered, I delivered them! - What combat mission do you set for a scout? What should he be responsible for? - What should he do if the Germans go? - What? Run to wake up the infantry or fight back in your funnel? I asked. - I do not know! At headquarters, when ordered, I did not ask about it. The next day, I took one soldier with me and we went through a hollow overgrown with bushes to the headquarters of the regiment. A gasoline burner was burning in the major's dugout. When the major was sleeping or working, the cartridge case with the wick was not extinguished. The guard let me into the dugout. The major was sitting at the table sorting through some papers. When he saw me, he put aside his work. - Are you on business with me? I began to tell him my thoughts. - If the Germans make an attempt to cross the neutral zone, they will run into our guys. The scouts will not be able to retreat. They lie in small craters or simply on bare ground, hiding behind bushes. They will be killed all at once. The wounded will be captured by the Germans. I don't understand where we have a front line? Can the infantry be taken out of the trench, and our guys put there? The major looked at me silently. Perhaps he thought that I had said everything and came only on this issue. At this time, the major was called to the telephone. While he was talking, I remembered Ryazantsev. This Fedya is silent and agrees with everything. He will come to the major and start talking. The major will interrupt him and say: - Hire! OK Go! Ryazantsev will hesitate and leave. And on the way he will remember that he forgot to ask about boots. A conversation with the authorities knocked out his thoughts and sweat on his forehead. Sigh, wave your hand. Okay, another time. Then he does not go to the major, he sends a foreman. Two or three phrases made Fedya feel hot and cold. The major hung up and returned to the table. - How to understand all this? Who is defending? Rifle companies or scouts? There will be a shootout at night. Our machine gunners will fire in the direction of the Germans. After all, they will hit the scouts in the dark. - What do you think of it? I asked the major. The major was silent, and I continued: - Maybe I'm talking not business? In my opinion, patrols were put forward in the Civil War. Chapaev died relying on them. What combat mission should I assign to a scout? Go, they say, brother, lie down in the neutral zone until the morning! I paused and looked at the major. He shook his head and smiled. The regimental commander can order us to take up defensive positions in some sector. And to protect the battalion commanders and rifle companies, no one can give such an order. The reconnaissance platoon commander reports to me that one of the battalion commanders is already shouting at him. I have been at the front for the third year, I was a company commander, I managed to visit headquarters work, but I have never seen anything like this, the infantry is sleeping in a trench, and scouts are guarding it. When I was in the company. Battalion commanders tore three skins from me. For a piece of land they threatened to be shot. What's going on here? Maybe the battalion commanders are afraid | that the soldiers will go to the Germans at night. | Let the company commanders do not sleep, they themselves are on guard. Let the trenches circulate at night.| I ask the commander of the regiment to resolve this issue. Either I am in charge of the trench and receive an official order from the regimental commander and a section for defense, or tomorrow I am removing scouts from patrols. In a month they will demand from us to take the language, and in the platoon we have village watchmen with mallets instead of scouts. | Then they will carry me with my muzzle on the table, that they did not take the control prisoner. | One of these days I'm going to investigate. I see a soldier sitting on a fallen birch. He tucked his legs under him so that I couldn't see and was looking at me. His sole is tied with a telephone wire. And in the rear of the regimental tailors and shoemakers, at least a dime a dozen. - I have everything, comrade major. I ask you to report to the regimental commander on this issue as well. - You told me everything! I listened to you carefully. - It's bad with people in the regiment. Weapons and soldiers are missing. The front of the regiment is stretched. If you pick up your guys tomorrow, we'll expose the defense. - Rebuilding takes time! Let's do this - every subsequent night you will send two fewer soldiers to the night watch. You will shoot the last pair, as agreed, in a week. - The battalion commanders will rebuild their battle formations during this time. If you agree, I go to the regimental commander and get approval from him. Tomorrow we will send orders to the regiment and gradually withdraw the regimental reconnaissance. - You see, I not only understood you, I completely agree with you! - Well, do you agree? - I ask you to give instructions to the deputy at the expense of shoes and uniforms. on the rear. The major left with a report to the regiment commander. And I went outside, called my soldier and we went back to the ravine. Two weeks passed. The scouts were removed from their posts and from the night guard. The foreman organized a bath for the children and changed them into clean linen. To observe the enemy, a stereo tube was installed at the forefront. The scouts were divided into battle groups. And now each group received its own area for night search and probing of the German defenses. The first thing I encountered and that puzzled me. This is that the scouts did not know how to read and work with the map. He returns from the night search for soldiers, I tell him: - Show me on the map the place where you were at night, and what object did you observe under the wire? He cannot answer. Orientation on the ground, walking on the map and azimuth for the scout is the first thing. I had to organize classes. The wisdom of military science was slowly but surely assimilated by the soldiers. Scouts were not specially trained during the war. Volunteers were recruited from rifle companies for regimental intelligence. More often, young guys went into reconnaissance. It was impossible to let a fresh person into business right away. This is neither romance nor a game of Cossack robbers. This is dangerous and exhausting work. Volunteers were recruited for reconnaissance. They did not hide from the soldiers that a difficult and dangerous life awaited them. Ryazantsev personally checked everyone for spirit, hearing and vision. Spirit, this is the inevitable desire to become a scout, despite all the difficulties of this profession. Hearing! The scout should have an almost musical ear. He must distinguish neither flats nor sharps, but the rustling of the wind, the rustling of grass under the feet of the walker, the muffled conversation of sentries in the trench. Ryazantsev put the soldier with his back to him and, moving away from him about ten meters, uttered various obscene words and figures in a whisper. Well, the most important thing in the test was vision. Ryazantsev went out with a soldier at night to the area and pointing his finger into space asked: - What is this? - Where is what? - repeated the soldier. I suggested to Ryazantsev another method. Sailors call it a semaphore. When one passes the text to another with a hand signal. You put the soldier away from you, and let him repeat your movements with his hands. |, as agreed, raises and lowers his hands in order. And the subject must repeat everything. This is the first moment. Second! With eye fatigue, some soldiers show symptoms of night blindness. A lack of vitamins and a constant starchy diet cause this disease, but not for everyone. For some soldiers, it appears from time to time. Then it goes away on its own. The main thing for us is not the disease. The main refusal to go to the task. The very fact of rejection has a psychological effect on others. Causes doubt and undermines faith.| It's not the soldier's fault that he gets night blindness. After checking, the newcomer was assigned to the reconnaissance group, and he gradually entered the life and affairs of the regimental intelligence. Every soldier in the regimental intelligence served on a voluntary basis. Few returned to rifle companies. Although everyone knew that he had the right to leave the reconnaissance at any time and go into the arrows. The scouts had their own laws and customs. The rules of the game with death were not written or established by anyone. They were born and appeared in the process of combat work. | In a soldier's bowler hat appeared different thoughts and ideas. They were tested in practice and gradually entered into life as laws.| We went on a night search, ran into an ambush, came under fire, suffered losses, drank blood, now it became clear how to act. The Prophet Moses wrote the Talmud and the code of laws of the Jewish faith for the Jews. Ryazantsev and I were not visionaries. All our laws and customs were written with soldier's blood and death. The customs of the scouts were worse than the laws of war. There is a soldier under the German wire, not just to listen and lie down. He must bring valuable information every time. He must determine where it is better to take the language. He must track down his victim and check every last detail. According to him, a capture group will go into the German trench. When they take a German by the collar, it is necessary that he does not have time to blink or utter a word. All this requires intelligence, fortitude, fearlessness and rare courage, skill and subtle understanding, and knowledge of the environment. When the capture group went to the trench, it must die or take the language. When we accepted a recruit into our family, we told him everything without embellishment. - Our night work! We are a brother in the war night owls! - You must be sensitive, attentive, resolute and careful. At night, you need to be able to see and hear, to catch shadows, rustles and obscure sounds, to snatch a living target from the darkness of the night with a canine instinct. We walk silently at night like ghosts. A week will pass, another sometimes you will not see a bright day. So you will live like a bat in the dark. Leave in the evening, and return in the morning in the dark. Scouts and die at night. They sleep during the day. There is another important point. A scout must always and everywhere have his weapon in perfect condition. Neither I nor the platoon commander will check your weapons. Everyone takes care of their own weapons. The weapon is the last chance to stay alive. Anything can happen. A scout must be on the alert at any moment. Do you know what a check is? Unlike the soldiers of a rifle company, who carry guns behind their backs, a scout must always have a machine gun in his hands. Pistol cartridges. Bullets don't fly far. The lethal force is small. The machine gun throws heavily during firing. The mass of the shutter, which jumps during firing, does not allow accurate aimed fire. The dispersion is great. There is a lot of noise and cod, but little sense! The machine gun is good for close combat. There is no time to mess around with a sight and a front sight. Fire from it is carried out from the hands, from the hip or abdomen. I saw the target - shoot at close range! Do not fire at a distant target! Wrong business! Shooting in short bursts gives good results. You must know all this so that later the guys can understand perfectly. And another note. At night, in the twilight of the trench, the motionless figure of a German is hardly visible. The German can hide, and then drape out from under his nose. Seeing at night is a special science. An experienced scout can approach the German at twenty meters and he will not notice him. Then I will show you an example and explain why this is so. And one more thing to say about the scout. His pockets are stuffed with bandages and each pocket contains a grenade. If you see which of the guys has a knife of trophy origin dangling on a belt in a sheath, then know that knives are not allowed to be used in a night search. A scout needs a knife to open a bottle of schnapps or open a can of canned food. During the year of the war in intelligence, I never had to see a knife stained with German blood. What we need is not a fat German pig slaughtered with a knife, but a live and unharmed German. For us, language is of great value. He is our dearest guest! We dragged him to our dugout, we will treat him kindly, pour him two hundred times a day, feed him, give him a smoke, turn the goat's leg. With a captured German, we have exceptionally courteous treatment. We are with him wholeheartedly. Because it costs many lives of our guys. And then everything went without loss and without unnecessary noise. A German in a trench is taken for surprise, for fear, for fear. From one of our appearance, he paralyzes his legs and arms. He can only scream in fright. We will culturally cover his mouth with the palm of our hand. But this is to make it clear to him that yelling is useless. But more often it happens that the Germans find us on the way. The first one who comes across rushes to his heels and raises a cry like an uncut one. At the forefront, the Germans immediately raise a combat alert. Machine guns and mortars begin to roar. The neutral zone is cut by bursts of shells. Getting into such a bind is not a fun thing to do. Ours cannot suppress this furious fire. We have no guns and ammunition. They are afraid to shoot from guns at night. According to the flashes of guns, they will immediately be detected and suppressed. The instrumental intelligence of the Germans was at its best. Communication worked clearly. We have one stretching to the rear from the front line telephone wire. They have five, six wires. With us, in order to connect with artillery, you need to call through the battalion, and then you will get to the headquarters of the regiment. They have a direct connection with the firing positions of artillery. And all this is duplicated by communication wires. Regimental reconnaissance cannot rely on fire support from its own artillery. Nobody can refute this. | I can say it in the eyes of Levin Slavka, deputy. artillery regiment commander.| When and where did artillerymen support regimental reconnaissance with fire? So, one careless move, a trifling oversight or an absurd accident, often led to the death of people. And if a German gapes and you tumble into his trench, then just looking at you makes him numb with fear and horror. He himself throws the weapon on the ground and with delight, twisting his face, raises his paws and mutters - Hitler kaput! And the case, as you can see, does not reach the knife. He nodded his head to the side. Like, let's not make noise and climb upstairs and he understands everything without words, the bastard. He runs along the neutral zone on the hunt, he does not look back at his own. Everyone's life is precious! And if a German is on duty and accidentally, turning around, sees that you are walking at him with a naked knife, then you can be calm, he will put a bullet at point-blank range without any cry. Well, poke him with a knife! And then what? No one needs him pierced with a knife! The logic is simple. With knives, scouts run only to the movies. Approach the German imperceptibly and quietly, butt him in the side with a machine gun, put your finger to his lips and he will immediately understand who he is dealing with. Hit him with the front sight lightly under the ass, and he jumps out of the trench like a trained one. This is a classic example of how to take without the noise of a German sentry. A scout can’t do without a good, sharp knife in a combat situation either. It is necessary to cut off the German telephone connection, cut the boot when wounded in the leg, carefully cut the turf and put a mine. A German signalman will come running, stick to a broken wire, and the end of the wire to the fuse is tied up. They will think that he was blown up by his own mine.

The last snow came down in April. The color of the earth changed from brown to green. In April, we received a batch of camouflage suits made of thin material. Trousers with an elastic band, like pajamas, spotted and shirts with a hood with stains, with a greenish gauze cape on the face. It was still quite cold in April. Scouts in the neutral zone lay for a long time. Quilted quilted jackets were worn under camouflage coats. Winter hats were also in use. Only our foreman Voloshin wore a cap and did not take it off. He, like the cart driver, did not wear helmets. Speaking of helmets. In intelligence, it was not customary to wear iron helmets in niches. Except for the cases when the guys put on German helmets. In a German helmet at night you can’t tell who is walking along the German defenses, yours or someone else’s. The shape of the German helmets was special. Not like ours. You put it on a hat and you can come close to the Fritz, in the German trench. And then it is not needed. It can be reset. And for its own it is dangerous when you come back. At our front, soldiers, riflemen, artillerymen, telephonists, sappers, supplies, tailors and hairdressers, and other military specialists of the regimental rear, wore helmets. The gunners not only slept and ate in them, they are not Christs, they went into the bushes without taking them off. Gas masks and helmets were worn by everyone except the scouts. A soldier of any unit could not appear on the surface of the earth without a gas mask. If a soldier came across in the rear of the regiment without a helmet and a gas mask, then everyone immediately knew that a regimental scout was coming towards them. All the soldiers in the regiment were shaved bald. Only scouts and batmen of the big bosses were not subject to duping. The scouts were proud of this. You can't see your hair from under the helmet. The iron helmet interfered with the intelligence officer and on business. From under her, not only was her hair not visible, but she sat on her head like a yoke on a mare's neck. What are the noises of the night! Put on a helmet, and it buzzes with a ringing sound on your head. The wind sounds in it a sad melody. The steel helmet rings from the blow of a knot. In it you are like under a cap. She doesn't even think about it. And I want to point out. During the year of the war, we lost many from the reconnaissance platoon. But none of the guys were wounded or killed in the head. I myself was wounded five times. He had contusions and wounds in the face, neck, stomach and legs. The fragments are still sitting somewhere under the skin. But I have never been hit above the eyebrows. I didn't wear a helmet during the whole war. Everyone has their own destiny, you can’t guess what and where can happen. The scouts had their legs and arms torn off, their jaw twisted, bullets flew through their chests, but they never spoiled their hair. Maybe this is the nature of our work? Bullets most often hit only in the legs. I also have a lot of wounds on my legs. If you list all the rules adopted in regimental intelligence, then there will be no end to them. Every day there was something new, every night they brought something to sit and think about. Each time, an unusual situation and problems loomed. Yes, and the Germans began to come across different. After the total mobilization carried out in Germany, old men and youths appeared in the trenches of the Germans. We seem to breathe and turn our affairs easier. But we often ran into personnel divisions that arrived on the eastern front from Europe.

October 28, 1977 Some time has passed. We received an order from the division to capture a control prisoner. Everything was thought out and taken into account. Fighting groups every night went under the wire and took up their original position. The scouts had to get used to the idea that they had to go to the embankment and take the language. When a person first comes close to the enemy's trenches, he always has doubts and natural fear. Excitement passes with each new exit. Feelings get in the way. They must be overcome. Everything seems to be simple. Came unnoticed. Lie down somewhere in the hollow. Lie, watch, listen and see. And doubts gnaw at you. Three groups are leaving simultaneously for the neutral zone. They act together accordingly. Each group takes its original position. They study the object until the morning. They know that in one of these exits they have to climb up and go to the embankment. The trench where the Germans sit on the embankment is small. There are two Germans in it. You could go wild. | What's the point of a long tune? Each of the scouts can have a feeling of fear, fear and death throes.| You run into a machine gun and life is over. | Maybe the Germans do not have a machine gun - all doubts are in vain! Or maybe there is, from which they have never fired? But this does not happen that the Germans do not try their machine gun. It is among our Slavs that it can become rusty. Nobody will approach him. Since there is no desire to shoot. And the Germans are a people of discipline. That's what a machine gun is for shooting. And since there is no machine-gun fire, there is no machine gun!| I personally have also | Miscellaneous | doubts when you had to go and lie for a long time under the wire, under the noses of the Germans. One night, I could get up and calmly walk to this very embankment in order to see for myself everything. Look, listen, how is it, what is there? And another time, melancholy took over my soul, fear appeared, doubts tormented me. Although there was no particular reason for this. The only thing that oppressed us was the massive shelling of German artillery and the stubborn silence of our guns. We will return to the question of fear more than once. It is important to comprehensively find out who, where and when is afraid and when he doesn't give a damn about anything!| This time we followed the Germans long and hard. I called the intelligence department of the division. I was told not to rush. Every night we went forward in full readiness, and each time, for some reason, we postponed the capture of the language. Waiting, as they say, for the right moment. They expected a dark night, a light wind, a light fog, or a drizzle. It's easy to put off taking over a tongue. |But this is also not a very good thing. People get used to it, and then you won't lead them into shafts. Not everyone can take the last step in life. In desperation, a person can go for it. But intelligence is another matter. In intelligence, you need to stay alive and take the language. In intelligence, this must be done with skill. When should you take that first step. Cross the line into non-existence and into the unknown, and hope that you will step back. But how many times can you painfully wait, and how many times, pushing death away with your palm, do you do it? I can order the guys to carry out the operation today. People will go. And if at the same time a breakdown occurs, then my orders will then have no meaning, they will not cost anything! I give the order to seize the language when I myself mentally decide to go with them into the thick of it. That's when the scout will be resolute and adamant. It is easy for a division headquarters to give orders. Here's the order! Here is the date! The language must be taken by the specified date! The head of reconnaissance of the division wants to show off in front of the divisional commander. - Go! Try it, take it! And I'll take a look! - so I think when they start to put pressure on me from above. | It was not the fate of the German from the embankment to fall into our hands. In the evening before going on a mission, I was called to the regimental headquarters on an urgent matter. - The division, - said the regimental commander, - received an order to surrender its defenses. Our positions will be taken by another division. Remove reconnaissance and send it to the rear! And no noise! When changing parts, there must be absolute silence! Here on the edge of the forest is our concentration area! And the regiment commander showed me on the map forest road and the edge of the forest. - Rifle companies will arrive here! This is where the headquarters and our rears will be located! You will bring your people here and here, you will wait for my instructions! The scouts left the trench. We collected property in the ravine and set off into the forest. The change of rifle companies dragged on for a day. * * * (50 kb)
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The book about the war "Vanka company", written by A. Shumilin, a participant in the Battle of Rzhev, tells about the battles of the Red Army under the command of Zhukov near Rzhev, Bely with Hitler's German Wehrmacht, the 9th Army under the command of Model.

Reconnaissance, obtaining information about the enemy, is one of the most important types of combat support aimed at preventing an enemy surprise attack.

Reducing the effectiveness of his strikes, if the attack occurred, as well as the creation of favorable conditions for an organized and timely entry into the battle and its successful conduct.

On November 22, 1942, the Main Intelligence Directorate (GRU) of the General Staff of the Red Army was divided into two departments: the GRU of the Red Army (intelligence abroad and in the occupied territory), which was subordinate to the People's Commissar of Defense and the Military Intelligence Directorate (UVR) of the General Staff of the Red Army. On April 18, 1943, the Directorate of Military Intelligence was transformed into the Intelligence Directorate, which, in addition to directing military intelligence, was also responsible for the leadership of intelligence in the occupied territories, transferred from the GRU.

"A good intelligence officer must, first of all, have psychological stability. The main thing is that in very difficult and crucial moments he does not panic ... More often they kill the inexperienced, because they panic earlier, they are the first to be noticed and killed. And then you need to get used to to the idea that at any moment you can be killed. Get used to it. If you think how to survive, you are already unreliable. This will be a "mediocre scout". He is not a coward, but you will not take him on a responsible task, "noted scout Ivanov M.B. (A. Drabkin "I went behind the front line" Revelations of military intelligence officers).

From the memoirs of scout V.F. Bukhenko: “I think that scouts and sappers had a very dangerous job in the war. Of course, it was scary to go to the rear of the Germans. But the worst thing, of course, was in the infantry. there are a maximum of 3 attacks in the ranks ... Even for us, scouts, the only thing they could threaten with was transfer to the infantry ... From the composition of our reconnaissance company, which was when I first got into it, 20 people reached Berlin, and in infantry only 3 attacks ... "

"You understand, after the Kursk Bulge, there were still almost two years of terrible massacre ahead, where it was unrealistic for an infantryman or reconnaissance officer to survive ... At least on my example, you can see this. I spent almost nine months on the front line" pure time " - and during this period he was wounded three times, and it was the usual "infantry standard" - almost no one could hold out on the "front" for more than three months - either killed or maimed ... And the holder of three orders of Glory, the fearless intelligence officer Ali Karimovich Karimov went through the war without injury, he was incredibly lucky in the most disastrous battles and when performing the most difficult reconnaissance missions, "recalls the scout of the 222nd Order of Lenin Guards Rifle Regiment of the 72nd Guards Rifle Krasnograd Red Banner Division. Sergeant Malikin L.S.

Observation, eavesdropping, search, raid, ambush, reconnaissance in force are the main methods of conducting military reconnaissance. During the years of the Great Patriotic War searches and ambushes in defense were the most common and effective ways reconnaissance to capture prisoners, documents, samples of weapons and military equipment. However, the capture of prisoners and documents was not the only task of reconnaissance groups behind enemy lines and reconnaissance in force.

During the years of the Great Patriotic War, Soviet military intelligence accumulated vast experience. Intelligence is the eyes and ears of a regiment, division, etc. The formulation of a combat mission and its implementation always require timely study of the terrain, where the scouts neglected to study the terrain, it was far from always possible to solve the task, and very often, due to insufficient knowledge of the terrain, it was not fully used during the reconnaissance itself. In addition, reconnaissance of the area should not be carried out in general, but specifically for the fulfillment of certain assigned tasks.

"Senior Lieutenant Saburov A.I., commander of the 104th separate motorized rifle reconnaissance company 29 rifle division, January 19, 1943, it was ordered to reconnoiter the firing points and the fire system in front of Peschanka and in Peschanka (the defeat of the German group near Stalingrad). Art. Lt Saburov A.I. performed this task with honor, he entered Peschanka with a company of scouts, captured 60 Nazis and personally destroyed 14 Germans who resisted. Fulfilling the order of the division commander - to find out where the enemy sat down, where his centers of resistance, senior lieutenant Saburov A.I. and this task was carried out with honor. At the turn of the river The queen, personally, with a small group of scouts, reconnoitered and revealed pockets of German resistance, up to 2 infantry battalions, settled in buildings and structures.

Later, by order of the division commander, the company was ordered to conduct reconnaissance and advance along one of the streets of Stalingrad; the company commander correctly organized the offensive; the company cleared many houses from the Nazis, captured about 1500 Germans - soldiers and officers, himself senior lieutenant Saburov A.I. with one fighter he broke into the basement and captured 130 Nazis, in addition, he captured the headquarters of the 1st Romanian Cavalry Division, led by General C. Bratescu.

Reconnaissance in force is carried out with the aim of clarifying the nature of the enemy's defense, revealing his system of fire and obstacles, and also determining the presence of troops in the first position. This method of reconnaissance provided the most reliable and accurate information about the grouping of enemy troops, their preparation for an offensive, and the system of fire. In all cases, reconnaissance in force forced the enemy to disclose the fire weapons at his disposal and the grouping of troops, which he had previously carefully concealed. Reconnaissance in combat is carried out only when it is not possible to obtain reconnaissance data by other means. To open enemy firing points, the scouts were forced to call fire on themselves, risking being shot, so the soldiers called this method of reconnaissance "death reconnaissance."

“Reconnaissance in force was carried out by the forces of a divisional reconnaissance company, our regimental reconnaissance platoon and an attached rifle company. If the Germans spotted the regimental reconnaissance on "neutral", then immediately they began to hit us from all trunks, and the artillery reconnaissance only had time to mark the discovered firing points on their maps. I remember, in mid-April 1943, we went on a search, led us platoon commander. We studied the area where we were to work well in advance. At midnight we got out of the trenches of the 2nd battalion. It was assumed that we would go out to our own at dawn, possibly in the defense sector of the 1st battalion. The commander of the 2nd battalion Sagaida warned about this night, gouge out your eyes, it was cold, windy, a fine rain sprinkled. We crossed the river. flank rumbled explosions fired by the enemy to intimidate mines. They listened: no, nothing, it seems quiet. We also thought that today the search will be successful. Then the rain stopped, but the wind blew harder. And then something trembled in the impenetrable darkness, and shots rang out - one, two, three, and machine guns rattled at once. In the sky above the "no-man's" land, "bubbles" of illuminating rockets began to "burst", which took off into the air continuously. And then mines and shells whistled, German artillery joined the machine gunners. We froze on the ground, it became clear that they had discovered us, and they were trying to cut off our escape routes. And then, covering us, divisional artillery entered the battle, machine guns began to speak along the entire line of defense of our Guards Regiment, suppressing enemy firing points. We didn’t take the “language” at that time, but the reconnaissance in force turned out to be very effective. "- from the memoirs of intelligence officer L.S. Malikin

The search consists in a covert approach of a subunit (group) to a pre-planned and studied enemy object, a surprise attack on it and the capture of "language", documents, weapons and equipment. During the Great Patriotic War, searches were carried out at different times of the day. At the same time, it is characteristic that in the first years of the war, searches were carried out, as a rule, at night. Subsequently, in connection with the transition of the enemy to a system of continuous trenches, densely covered by a significant number of engineering obstacles, as well as an increase in his vigilance at night, conducting searches at night became more difficult.

Beginning in 1943, daytime searches began to be widely practiced in parts of the Red Army. Most often they were held one to three hours after dawn. At dawn and in the afternoon, the Germans' vigilance was blunted, which was widely used by our scouts to achieve surprise actions. A capture group and a support group were recruited into the search. If the task is complex, then there could be two support groups. Later, three groups began to be used: attack, capture and support. To conduct the search, a reconnaissance or motorized rifle unit was assigned from a squad to a reinforced platoon, or a group of specially selected military personnel. The size of such a group most often ranged from 6 to 16 people.

In addition, the effectiveness of the search depended on the thoroughness of the preparation of the action, the training of the personnel search party, courage and decisiveness of the actions of scouts. Training in hand-to-hand combat, practicing the ability to use a knife, move silently through the forest, etc. were mandatory in all reconnaissance groups. The life of a scout depended on all these skills in a war, so they prepared thoroughly. Even experienced scouts continued to train in their free time, teaching the young to conduct reconnaissance at the forefront, set up ambushes, overcome obstacles, the art of camouflage, conduct a "search" and much more.

Search is the most difficult method of reconnaissance, and in conditions of direct contact with the enemy, it cannot be stereotyped; it often requires the manifestation of reasonable initiative, resourcefulness and courage, combined with skillful calculation. To take the "language" is the work of intelligence on the defensive. And during an offensive, for example, a reconnaissance platoon always goes first.

"A group of scouts led by the assistant commander of a platoon of the 75th Guards Orr, Guards Sergeant P.A. Panezhda, was ordered to reconnoiter the front line of the enemy north of Borodaevka, on the right bank of the Dnieper.

At dawn on September 25, 1943, scouts crossed the river in a boat. For three days the group of P.A. Panezhdy made raids into the depths of the German defenses, obtaining valuable information for the command. During this time, the entire reconnaissance company crossed the river. The reconnaissance company, headed by the intelligence chief of the headquarters of the 72nd Guards Rifle Division Guards. Major Kalmykov E.I., following the fiery shaft of artillery, approached the firing positions of the Nazis, threw grenades at them and seized the bridgehead, after which the main forces of the division began forcing the Dnieper.

The scout Z. Pilat spoke about the difficulties of conducting a search as follows: “There were sections on the fronts where for three months in a row it was not possible to take a control prisoner in the strip of an entire army. from a killed German. Hundreds of scouts died, but there was no result. Here, it was no longer an officer who was "ordered", but at least someone. And this happened ... "

From the memoirs of the military doctor Gudkova Galina Danilovna “They will live!”: “In November 1942, a group of divisional intelligence officers went behind enemy lines from the location of the 106th Infantry Regiment to capture the“ language ”. , Mikhail Efimovich Tatarinov.The scouts studied the front line of the enemy's defense well, everyone was experienced, physically strong, people who did not get lost in a difficult situation.

The group got out of the trenches of the 106th Infantry Regiment at twelve o'clock in the morning. It was assumed that she would return no later than five or six in the morning, and it was not excluded that she would leave at the defense sector of a separate training rifle battalion. Captain Yurkov warned the company commanders about this, demanded that they be extremely careful and provide assistance to the scouts, if necessary.

The night was dark. It got colder, grains fell from the invisible sky, a breeze rose: it cut the face and neck. We listened warily to familiar sounds: the hiss of a rocket taking off nearby, a sudden burst of machine-gun fire somewhere on the right flank, an unexpected burst of mines fired by the enemy to intimidate. No. Nothing. Quiet. Looks like the scouts are in luck...

Yurkov asked me if everything was available at the first-aid post to help the scouts and the "tongue" if, unfortunately, he was wounded or dented in the battle. I reassured the battalion commander: enough is enough.

It is necessary that the dragged person remains alive, - Yurkov answered. - Now "tongues" are worth their weight in gold. And perhaps even more expensive!

Something already trembled in the impenetrable darkness, it seemed to become thinner, looser, and the grains stopped pouring, only the wind pulled harder when shots rang out - one, two, three, and machine guns rattled at once. Having jumped out of the gap, we saw that bubbles of enemy missiles were bursting in the sky above the "no man's land", we heard how fascist mortars and guns began to hit, how mines and shells whistled. And the rockets went up and up. It began to get light, only the shadows frantically rushed about, reminding that the day had not yet come. And then the guns of the division roared, machine guns came into action along the entire line of our defense. We guessed; scouts come out at the battalion's sector, the enemy has discovered them, trying to cut them off, the division's artillery suppresses the enemy's firepower, and the companies cover Tatarinov's retreat.

The roar of shots, the roar of explosions of enemy mines and shells began to subside about half an hour later. Only our guns were still firing and the machine guns were not silent, either our own or those of others. And then we heard the clatter of feet, muffled, excited voices.

Quiet, Slavs, quiet. Here ... - I heard. - Doctor, where are you? Sister!

Here, here! I called.

The soldiers dragged the wounded man, carefully lowered the cape with the motionless body to the ground. The hefty foreman took a breath:

Doctor, do whatever you want, just save!

Who is injured?

Our commander. Senior lieutenant.

Tatarinov?!

From the blood on his tunic and trousers, it could be assumed that Tatarinov had more than one wound.

Shine!

By the light of pocket flashlights, she unfastened the senior lieutenant's waist belt, lifted her tunic and saw an extensive shrapnel wound to the abdomen. She ripped open the tops of boots, breeches. There are many bleeding wounds with bone damage on the left shin. On the right thigh - an open fracture with displacement of bone fragments.

The sergeant muttered abruptly:

- "Language", this bastard, was delivered whole. And comrade senior lieutenant with two guys was the last to crawl away, covering us. And there was little left!

Projectile, mine?

Mina... Will he live, doctor?

Tatarinov lay motionless, pale, with a haggard face. His feet were wrapped in flannel footcloths, his ripped trousers, together with mesh tires, were bandaged to his legs, but there was nothing to cover the senior lieutenant: the raincoat did not warm well! Until they drag him deeper to the rear, until the cars wait, until they take him to the medical battalion, he will freeze. Without hesitation, I took off my overcoat, wrapped up Tatarinov, and ordered the foreman to urgently find some kind of car.

Later they said: the scouts did not wait for the cars to arrive. Having picked up a stretcher, they carried the wounded commander to the rear, hoping to find transport along the road, to gain time. They calculated correctly: having moved a kilometer away, they stopped a truck that brought shells to a battery of 76-mm cannons, and a senior lieutenant was taken to the medical battalion on it. But, alas, it's too late. It was already a little left to go, when the soldiers accompanying the company commander felt - the end. And yet they believed that the doctors would perform a miracle: they themselves dragged the stretcher into the operating tent, asked to be operated on, saved ... ".

Here is an example of a successful quick search. "On the night of February 13-14, 1944, fulfilling the combat order of the division command to capture the "language", the commander of the reconnaissance platoon of the 75th guards. orr guards lieutenant Zlatokrylts Rafail Izrailevich, commanding the night search group, in the area 800 meters west of Sosivka, discovered a group enemy sappers, numbering 8 people, who carried out the mining of the front line. When the group approached the Germans at a distance of 100 m. Guards Lieutenant Zlatokrylts quickly decided to capture a group of Germans prisoner. For this purpose, he sent a cover group to the left, and he himself acted with by a capture group.Having quickly and decisively attacked a group of Germans, Guards Lt. Goldenwing with a capture group, captured the oberefreytor, and the rest were destroyed. gave valuable information.

An ambush as a reconnaissance method consists in the advance and covert location of a subunit (group) on the expected or probable path of movement of single enemy soldiers or small groups of the enemy for a surprise attack on them in order to capture prisoners, documents, weapons, military equipment or equipment.

During the Great Patriotic War, ambushes were arranged both in preparation for an offensive and in the course of hostilities at any time of the day and in any weather. Places for ambushes were chosen near trails, roads, deliberately damaged wire lines, near water sources, crossings, bridges, in barrier passages, communications and other places. Where the appearance of single soldiers (a messenger, an ammunition carrier), officers or small enemy groups on foot or on ground vehicles is most likely to appear: reconnaissance, security units, etc.

Depending on the situation, ambushes were arranged at the front line of the enemy, in front of the front line of our forward (guarding) units, in the disposition of friendly troops, and also in the depths of the enemy's disposition.

“We didn’t work according to one template. We could set up an ambush in the German near rear, or cut the telephone wire and wait until our“ client ”appears - a signalman going to a wire break. Our withdrawal routes also constantly changed, the Germans are also not complete fools," they cooked a bowler hat, God forbid everyone, they set up their ambushes at the edge of the coast or right on the "neutral", there more than one reconnaissance group fell into these traps "- from the memoirs of intelligence officer Malikin L.S.

An ambush has a number of advantages over other methods of reconnaissance. A group in ambush always has great opportunities for a surprise attack, since the enemy, unaware of the danger, suddenly falls into the hands of scouts and is unable to offer organized resistance. Operating from cover at close range, scouts can successfully complete a task and inflict losses on the enemy with small forces and in a short time. During the Great Patriotic War, a surprise attack from an ambush in most cases ended successfully. But even this method of reconnaissance required constant creativity, ingenuity, and daring from people.

"Guards foreman Zhurenkov D.S., assistant platoon commander of the 75th Guards Orr, was tasked to capture on the night of April 25-26, 1943, to capture a control prisoner in the area of ​​​​the village of Bezlyudovka (the southern ledge of the Kursk Bulge). Having carefully prepared the capture group and a support group, under the cover of evening darkness, the scouts silently crossed the Seversky Donets River. the German caught up with the ambush, the guards of the station Zhurenkov gave a signal to capture. Having disarmed and captured the German, under the cover of a support group, the scouts silently retreated and delivered the prisoner to headquarters. "

"The deputy commander of the 75th Guards Orr, Guards Lieutenant Portnov I.M., on May 9, 1943, was tasked with preparing an operation to capture a control prisoner in the area of ​​​​the settlements of Pristen (9236) and Pulyaevka (9432). After two days of observation of opponents and careful study of the scheme of action, on the night of May 11-12, 1943, a group of scouts secretly crossed the Northern Donets and organized an ambush.Three Germans went into the ambush, two of whom were killed, and the third was captured to our territory."

From the award list for the Assistant Chief of the 2nd Department of the Headquarters of the 72nd Guards. sd - guards. Senior Lieutenant V.I. Oglu: “During the period of fierce fighting in the area of ​​the Sev. Donets River, Comrade Oglu was constantly on the NP of the division and in the battle formations of a separate reconnaissance company.

In the period from 5.7 to 15.8.43 Comrade. Oglu uninterruptedly organized and conducted reconnaissance at the forefront and in the depths of the enemy's defenses.

During this period, all types of reconnaissance took 66 prisoners and valuable documents of the enemy, thus the grouping and numbering of enemy units in front of the front of our division was revealed in a timely manner.

When the front was not continuous, Soviet formations and units carried out reconnaissance behind enemy lines with the help of reconnaissance groups. If there were significant gaps between the German strongholds, experienced scouts quietly penetrated the nearest rear of the enemy and successfully solved the tasks assigned to them. As a rule, in the rear, enemy soldiers are more careless compared to military personnel who are at the forefront. In the rear, it is more often possible to capture a single soldier or officer, while at the front line, each soldier or double patrol, who is on guard, can be supported by their own units at any time with firepower and manpower. Operating behind enemy lines, reconnaissance groups usually conducted reconnaissance by observation, raids, ambushes, eavesdropping on enemy telephone conversations, photographing, and, under favorable conditions, committed sabotage.

Usually, the command assigned the following tasks to such groups: identifying areas where enemy troops were concentrated; hidden road surveillance; capture of documents from messengers: foot, horseback, motorcyclists, etc.

Soviet intelligence officers sent behind enemy lines, trying to complete their tasks, usually did not get involved in battle with the enemy, since he had a numerical superiority, and the group could be destroyed. In addition, so as not to reveal yourself.

From the award list for the assistant platoon commander of the 75th Guards. orr gv. Sergeant Biryukov Mikhail Konstantinovich: “On the night of April 23, 1943, Sergeant Biryukov with a group of three people, performing a combat mission, forcing the water line in the Bezlyudovka area (8642), passed his defenses without being noticed by the enemy, deepened into the rear of the enemy up to ten kilometers.

Through covert surveillance, the number of enemy troops, the location of troops and its firepower were established. Being three days behind enemy lines, the task was completed without a single loss, and returned to the unit with valuable information about the enemy at the appointed time.

Trying to remain unnoticed, reconnaissance groups usually moved at night, while maintaining careful camouflage, bypassing settlements and big roads. It is very difficult to operate behind enemy lines - there is always a danger of meeting with him, therefore secrecy and surprise are the most important principles for the actions of a reconnaissance group behind enemy lines. The effectiveness of the actions of reconnaissance and sabotage groups depended on the degree of their preparedness and the correct consideration of a number of factors: the method of crossing the front line, the route of exit to the object, the return return of the scouts, the location of the group until the moment of connection with our troops, etc.

From the award list for the squad leader of the 75th Guards Orr Guards. Sergeant Linnik I.M.: "... for 6 months he performed combat missions of reconnaissance behind enemy lines, 7 times went behind enemy lines to a depth of 15-20 km, commanding a group of 4-5 people. And having completed the task, he returned Comrade Linnik has 9 prisoners on his account.

12/21/44 Comrade. Linnik was tasked with crossing the river. Ipel, go behind enemy lines for 12 km with the task of establishing the presence of tanks, artillery, engineering barriers and capturing a prisoner on the way back ... Comrade. Linnik leading a group of 4 people. crossed the river Ipel (whose width is 1.5 km) and went to the indicated area. On the way of movement and on the NP chosen by him behind enemy lines, he looked through every hollow, settlements. Having established the presence of tanks in the Kyurt Pusta area, artillery and defensive structures ...

Approaching the vil. Kovachev, conducted reconnaissance of the village and the warehouse, the RG discovered the enemy's trenches, where there was an easel machine gun. Tov. Linnik deployed his forces near the OT (firing point) and himself, with Nepeyvod's scout, crawled in a plastun way to the enemy's machine-gun point.

Tov. Linnik muffled a machine gunner with a butt, captured him with an easel machine gun and a rifle, and threw grenades at 3 soldiers and destroyed them. Having handed over the prisoner and trophies to the comrades who ran up, and he himself, with Nepeyvod's scout, covered the retreat from easel machine gun captured from the enemy. When the RG retreated, the enemy opened heavy machine-gun fire on the RG from the flanks. But tov. Linnik suppressed enemy fire and successfully reached the Ipel River. The prisoner and trophies were delivered to the headquarters, which opened the enemy grouping."

Such an experience did not immediately appear, therefore military scouts, especially at the beginning of the war, paid a huge price for it - life.

Local residents and partisans also actively helped in conducting reconnaissance. So at the end of April 1943, two friends, namesakes Anokhin Alexander Yakovlevich and Anokhin Sergey Leontyevich voluntarily arrived in a unit from the fighter detachment of the Shchebitinsky RO NKVD with a desire to help the Red Army in conducting reconnaissance behind enemy lines. Swimming across the North. Donets imperceptibly from the enemy went to his rear. In the afternoon, having passed through the designated points and having completed the task, they returned to our shore. For their endurance and courage, two friends were awarded medals "For Military Merit". In the future, they remained to serve in the 75th guards.

An indispensable condition for the success of any reconnaissance group is the experience of the reconnaissance commander in organizing and conducting reconnaissance operations. Such a commander will not be at a loss in the most difficult situation and will find the right solution, while demonstrating willpower, ingenuity and cunning.

"The officer commanded a platoon of foot reconnaissance, whom everyone called by his patronymic - Kuzmich, or addressed him like this -" T-sh senior lieutenant. "Middle height, a man of unlimited endurance, was an example for us in any battle or search. He had a strong will, he was extremely demanding of scouts. Like all scouts, he was constantly under the yoke of great physical and moral stress, and even mortally tired, he returned from the search with a wonderful feeling, spoke about everything that had passed with humor, encouraged us in difficult times, realizing that in the war all our torment, suffering and death of comrades become everyday, everyday phenomena that gradually undermine the soldier’s faith in what that he can win and survive. And if Kuzmich saw that one of us was beginning to "wedge", he would shout at the scouts without choosing expressions. But in a rare, for us, free time, Kuzmich was attentive and sympathetic, he was good knew the way to a soldier's heart, always tried to make us laugh, had an inexhaustible supply of witty jokes, fables and funny stories, he had an unshakable authority.

The platoon had its own political instructor - a scout, a Jew, lieutenant Ilya Solomonovich Melnikov. It was a real commissar who never said - "It must be done", but constantly repeated - "Do as I do." The person is very strong-willed and courageous. In battle, he had limitless endurance. There was no post of assistant platoon commander in regimental intelligence, but these duties were performed by the most experienced intelligence officer, foreman Ali Karimovich Karimov, whom we called Alik. A brave and competent fighter, Ali Karimov, personally took part in the capture of Field Marshal Paulus, along with headquarters in Stalingrad. Karimov became my blood brother, and when I was seriously wounded, he saved my life. And the work of the regimental scouts of the PNSh for intelligence was led by Senior Lieutenant Kurovsky Bronislav Ivanovich, a wonderful person. A tall, well-behaved officer, he possessed incredible patience and courage. The whole regiment valued and respected him extremely "- from the memoirs of intelligence officer Malikin L.S.

From the award list for the Translator of the 29th Rifle Division, quartermaster technician of the 1st rank V.I. while showing courage and bravery.

Intelligence had its own laws, its own rules. The basic law - in no case should you leave your wounded and dead to the enemy. "Sergeant Major Ali Karimov asked me a question -" Do you know the Iron Law of intelligence officers? We do not leave our own, neither the wounded nor the dead, to the enemy, "- from the memoirs of intelligence officer Malikin L.S.

"On the night of April 19-20, 1943, a reconnaissance group under the command of Guards Junior Lieutenant Sindyukov Leonid Nikolaevich, acted to capture a control prisoner in the area of ​​\u200b\u200bDacha Korovinskaya (the southern ledge of the Kursk Bulge). During the crossing over the Sev. Donets, the group was discovered by the enemy and fell into an ambush organized by him. The scouts were forced to engage in hand-to-hand combat with a superior enemy and, inflicting significant damage on him, taking out the wounded from the battlefield, retreated in full force to their side of the coast. "

"There was a case when they left a dead soldier in a German trench, under very serious circumstances. The search turned out to be unsuccessful. In May 1943, we were given the task of taking the" language "without regard for anything. We planned in advance a firing point in which we decided to grab the German "We studied all the approaches. Ten of us went, crossed the river in a boat. Four in the capture group - Karimov, platoon commander Kuzmich, I, another guy, can't remember his last name, he just recently arrived at our place to replenish. Six people remained in cover. Through passed the German defenses quietly, unnoticed. From the rear they crawled to the firing point. Nearby they found a dugout, which we did not know about before. Between them, a German was dozing behind an MG-34 machine gun. We crawled closer, and at the moment when we got up for the last dash to the trench ", the German woke up and instantly fired a burst at us. The platoon commander was seriously wounded and the intelligence officer, the fourth in our group, was killed. A firefight ensued, I wounded the German, and still managed to throw a grenade through the window of the dugouts and to kill the Germans inside her, who had already managed to wake up. I pulled the wounded German by the legs, after gagging him in his mouth. And then we notice that Kuzmich is seriously wounded, he cannot walk or crawl on his own ...

There were only two of us left in the capture group, and we physically could not carry out from the second German trench - and a seriously wounded platoon commander, a wounded German machine gunner, and a killed comrade. I had to stab the “tongue” with a knife. I took the documents from him, removed the shoulder straps and cap from the corpse. And the enemy, immediately after the grenade explosion and a short skirmish, realized that Russian intelligence officers were operating on their front line, organized a pursuit. We, firing back, began to retreat to the cover group, carrying a wounded platoon leader. The killed scout had to be left behind. The Germans almost rushed after us in a crowd, but then a cover group entered the battle and “cut off” the pursuers from us. But the Germans covered the entire edge of the coast with artillery and machine-gun fire, cutting off our escape routes. The support group ferried us with the wounded in a waiting boat to the east bank, and then, continuing the battle, pulled the boat back on a cable, and swam across the river to our bank. The wounded commander was immediately taken to the medical battalion. And according to the documents and signs of the kind of troops taken from the killed German, it was established that a chemical unit appeared on the side of the enemy in front of our regiment, ”recalls intelligence officer Malikin L.S.

Front-line military intelligence during the Great Patriotic War made a huge contribution to the success of many military operations.