On the Lulu boundary and Missilemen 55

Nice sunny day. The river airfield is working:

I had a good nap on the slope not far from this place. Young curious snake waked me up:

After this I went hope to type the continuation. Missilemen 55

One day in September 1974 Kuzya addressed to me:

“Let’s go to Moscow? It’s becoming dull here”.

“Are you going to take part in the parade?” – I asked him back.

Our regiment was a parade regiment and two times on every year, once on the First of May and another one on the Seventh of November, representative of our military unit took part in the parade on the Red Square.

“Yes! Why not? It will be a good rest”.

“No, I will no survive all these drills” – was my negative reply.

But Kuzya managed to survive all these drills and three times visited Moscow on the parade occasion. He told us the stories about exercises on the Central Airfield and very good rest in nearest café Lira on Leningradsky Prospect.

“Have you seen Breghnev” – I asked him one day after his return from this trip.

“Yes, of course! And even drank for his health same moment when my truck passed the Mausoleum tribune I got my flask with cognac and made couple of swallows”.

Same fall Gena and his battery carried out the real missile launch in Kapustin Yar. I envied him because not all of us had the chance to push the Start button for real rocket launch. They traveled there by echelon taking the missile from their stock and all battery equipment including launch table.

“What bring for you back?” – asked Gena before this trip.

“Big spider” – I am joking.

“Okay” – Gena promised seriously.

And he kept his promise bringing back big spider in 3-liter glass container. It lived in the hostel with us all the winter. Cockroaches were his major food and we had no problem to catch these insects in battalion canteen. Sometime his menu was diversified by flies occasionally caught in our places of work and dwelling. One sunny day in spring we allowed our spider to walk outside his container in the empty lot not far from our hostel. The hens from the neighbor’s backyards were wandering here too digging the dust ground. One of them paid attention to our pet and started to sneaking up moving sideway and looking at us slyly.

“Take spider back!” – I tell Gena – “It gobbles him!”

“It’s not known who will gobble whom!” – Gena put a good face on.

Everything happened so fast that we had no chance to prevent the sad event. Hen mad powerful acceleration from its place and with one jump-flight attacked spider from the air. It swallowed it in two motions.

The time of our service was flying too in training and simple entertainments.

Nettle, Burdock, Russian Orthodox Easter and Missilemen 54

These plants are very important for my head hears and joints:

There is only one midow on the Lulu where you can find them. And I know the spot very well. Today is Orthodox Easter and the best place on the island to celebrate it is here:

Beautiful camellias make the event even better:

And I continue my story, Missilemen 54

Different accidences happened with Sergey often. He sheared a hostel room with Gena Schekov. One day in the morning I met Gena in the washing room. Gena made his eyes round as usually when he had something very exiting to tell you:

”Hi! Do you know what an oddly thing Serega made this night?”

“Of course not! What’s up?”

Gena told me the story with pleasure. It happened that Serega got drunk in the restaurant together with his Sevastopol friends last night. Approximately at 11 pm he came to the hostel and got into his bed there. In an hour he felt sick with his stomach, started to groan, waked up Gena, got up and went to the washroom. The sound of his puking there was heard well in the room. Then this stopped and silence returned back to the sleeping hostel. But through short period of time Gena heard that Serega’s loud swearing and the noise if somebody shook the metal bed with spring grid. The opponent voice was heard too. This stopped soon too but Serega didn’t return home. Gena was worried about this. He got up and went for the search. The washroom was empty. The hostel has a long central corridor with the washrooms at its ends. All dwelling rooms had similar doors and were equipped with the same kind of furniture. The sound of familiar snoring came from neighbor room and Gena opened the door there. He had seen Serega on one of the beds scattering above the blanket. Unknown man was sleeping on the other bed. Gena waked up Serega:

“Get up! Let’s go home!”

Serega recognized Gena and started to apology and complain:

“Sorry that I took your bed. Fucked somebody lies in my place. I can’t make him away! Let’s punch him in his muzzle!”

“Quiet! Quiet” – Gena tried to calm Serega – “Get up. I will show you your place”.

Somehow Gena managed to take Serega to his room.

But the most interesting thing happened this day later. When we arrived to our battalion it was announced that new regiment political commander in deputy takes his job and while his house is not ready yet he is dwelling in our hostel. Luckily this guy was not scandalous, I can say, even understanding one. This story had no continuation.

Hard drinking was usual and wide spread phenomenon in the life of the Soviet officers. However many of two year conscript officers avoided this and spent two years for self education and preparation for the future career. Volodya Nikolenko, for example, studied COBOL programming language. In those times it was not interesting for me. But just in several years I started to learn more complex PL/1. However this is another story. During these two years I studies English. I had very nice textbook with exercises that helped to increase my vocabulary and technical texts understanding. Several interesting Soviet issued books with original texts from American military magazines were available too. All this helped me later in my future civil life and career.

Cosmonautics Day and Missilemen 53

We had a good walk on a Good Friday in this area:

Nice weather and quiet waters:

Nobody knows here what the day is April the 12th. But heroes of my story knew this very well. Missilemen 53

In the bus Captain Kulik looked at us slyly and made a comment:

“It seems to me that you had a good swimming. Soon I will retire and have a chance to go there for fishing and beer drinking often”.

We nodded our heads approving his saying. More than sixty percent of the officers in Strategic Missile Force of 70s had Captain Rank. The standard career development steps were like this: senior operator, battery department chief, deputy battery commander, battery commander, deputy battalion commander, battalion commander, deputy regiment commander, regiment commander – what gave a chance to be in Major Rank only after fifteen years of military service and Colonel Rank only after twenty five years after graduation from military school in Lieutenant Rank, theoretically impossible time period, because adding military school years (four or five) you get 29 or even 30 years of military service at age of fifty or more. But in accordance with the Soviet legislation officers had to be retired at age 45 after 25 years of military service. It looks like the shortage of senior officers had a place in Strategic Missile Forces and somewhere inside Defense Ministry the decision was made to accelerate career development of young officers. Therefore in the middle of 70’s military school graduates were placed to position of deputy battery commander and, if they managed to fulfill the duties with good quality, in two years they became battery commander, what is Major Rank. In this case they had a chance to become Generals. But the captains with ten – fifteen years of service understood clearly that they have no chance now at all and will finish army service in Captain Rank. Such kind of human resource policy leads to the situation when Captains started to feel themselves as marginal who has nothing to loose “except their chains” and no future career. The hard drinking was very common between these military guys.

This is real sketch from one of the regiment officer meeting, which was organized by Lieutenant General, division commander.

“Captain, a … forget his last name, who always drink, stand up!” – General addresses to the all regiment officers in regiment meeting hall.

I am in this hall too and see like every second officer starts, because every second was in Captain Rank and all of them have a habit of hard drinking.

In the same meeting same General had an idea to publicly punish Sergey Tsyplakov, two year officer from Sevastopol, tough guy who liked to drink and fight. And General would like to punish him for the fight with locals that Sergey arranged in the Lebedin Cultural Center, in billiard room, where finally he was caught by Lebedin’s militia and transferred to military commandant.

“Come and stay here!” – General commands Segey to climb the officer club stage – “Tell us, how you managed to live this life, with whom you were fighting there being drunk, why militia arrested you? Do you know that it is very stupid idea to fight with locals? Do you know that last year locals beaten our division box champion? They tied him to the fence after this and left for the night there. And who are you, drunk!”

Sergey started to justify himself:

“I weren’t’t drunk. They started first. And I know nothing about our boxing champion”.

“Let’s make the decision” – General proposes – “Do we expel him from the Soviet Army or send him to the lock-up for fifteen days?”

“Let me ask him” – the Captain Rostovtsev, the head of regiment sport department, attracts General’s attention to himself.

“OK” – General allows.

“Tell me, what was the reason for this fight?” – Captain addresses his question to Sergey.

“I do not know, they started to bully me. I push off one of them, punched other, and they jumped on me with knifes”.

“And how in happened that you beaten all of them?”

“I used cue, broke couple of their arms as they said. I climbed the billiard table and defended my self from there, while militia arrived”.

“Who did win?” – Captain asks the key question.

“I, of course” – Sergey answer with broad smile.

“Okay, last time they won, this time we. The score is one to one. Maybe ten days in lock-up will be enough?” – Captain addresses to General now.

“OK, ten days will be enough” – General agrees – “But you have to give up drinking and avoid militia arrests in the future”.

Smell and juice of the spring, Missilemen 52

The name of this plant is skunk’s cabbage:

Looking tasty, but the smell, real skunk smell, prevents you to chew the leaf.

Really tasty stuff is in blossom only:

Very soon, in a month, these flowers will be juicy salmon berries. But we have something what is ready for consuming now. This is a sap of birch tree. And this powerful trunk is full of it:

The spring is late this season, but summer is coming and my story is about one of the summer days in other life. Missilemen 52

The complex drills, the major exercises for permanent readiness keeping, were executed usually in two of four battalion batteries. As training missiles occupied real launch tables, the schedule of possible real launche was changed during these exercises for these particular batteries. Ones, when the tenth and eleventh batteries were in “war”, Kuzya and I took sunbath near battalion club building. The headquarter head, Major Usenko, saw us and waived his hand, attracting our attention to him:

“I know that you have civilian clothing in the hostel” – he starts the conversation.

We nod our heads with a surprise.

“Change, take pistols, cartridges and go for patrol to Mikhailovsky hill”.

We look at the Major being stunned. He understands that we didn’t catch the idea and starts to explain:

“These guys will be in the state of full readiness at least two hours. The heads in shiny thermo-covers will jut out above the forest. Do not allow anybody to make photos from Mikhalovsky hill. Take away films. And arrest foreigners”.

There was no more need to persuade us:

“Yes, Sir! We will arrest all foreigners!” – was the reply and we run to the hostel.

“Let’s do not take these fucking pistols” – I am making the proposal – “It will be easier without them to bathe in the river and drink beer”.

“Okay” – Kuzya agrees.

After clothing change we are heading to the entrance check-point missing headquarter building where our handguns are kept. In the outside after hundred meters by the road I turn from the tarmac into the forest.

“Where are you heading?” – asks Kuzya.

“To the village. Look, this is the path. My soldiers showed me this shortcut. They use it sometime being in absence without leave to buy moonshine” – I explain him.

“Good, let’s go” – Kuzya comments with satisfaction.

The August pine forest pours us with the smell of conifer. The ground is covered by the gold of fallen needles. Very high flowers, bluebells, are seen around. In twenty minutes of quiet walk we found ourselves on the beach of Psel River, in vicinity of the bridge that leads to Mikhailovka. The beach is very nice with sandy ground. We put off the clothing and jump in the water which is warm and has light smell of milk fresh from the cow, or smell of cow manure. After good swimming we dry on the beach, put clothing on, cross the bridge and come into café that is situated in shabby building of barrack type. Suma beer on the tap is mixed with Akhtyrka bottle one. The life becomes even better. At 5 pm we were back in our battalion, changed the clothes and took the place in the bus that delivered us to Lebedin after another hard day of service defending our motherland from external enemies.