«It seems to me, gentlemen, it was a comedy.»
(From the Soviet movie «The Man from Capuchin Boulevard»)
For the second week we are in the checkpoint near the Devil’s bridge. It is almost 4000 metres above sea level, a deserted road and a glacier that ends with a black deep abyss. What the hell we are here for, we don’t know. A few times a week only local caravans of horses, donkeys and camels pass by. We check their load and let them go.
The caravan guys put up with it and only watch, nodding, how the soldiers check their bags and sacks. Sometimes local people give us raisins and dry melon with bread and we give them some medicine from our first-aid kit.
This is a very deserted and calm place on the road that goes to Uzbekistan. Before, it was one of the routes of the Great Silk Way, and because of this there are signs of old times everywhere: on the huge boulders formed by glacier stones, on the ruins of some old building near our checkpoint, on the traces left by generations of people who walked this road sometime ago. It seems that we inhale thoughts and memories of the past while breathing this air.
A week and a half ago one local man showed us one sight on the glacier. This old man was guiding us for a long time on the edge of the ice to the place where a blue opening was visible in a deep crack in the ice.
It turned out later that we were lucky that the weather was fine. We took a good look at the clear ice without seeing a bloody thing in its depths. The old man was standing near us and cheerfully pointed his dried-up knotty finger that had the colour of smoked meet to the ice’s depths and talked some gibberish.
Suddenly a ray of the sun, standing high above the mountains, fell at the right angle…
Many years ago a terrible avalanche had found and buried a caravan here. Then water and time had made the ice clear. This sudden shaft of light exposed to us mutilated, dead bodies of humans and animals in the thick of the ice.
The mixed bodies hung in the ice as if in a state of weightlessness. Turned to us were faces of people with open eyes and mouths frozen in terrible screams. The sun was playing with light on the gilded clothes, weapons and harnesses. Then the sunlight flickered and the sudden vision disappeared, leaving us standing in front of a dull opening, that lead to the dark thickness of ice.
Heavy snow started to fall the next day. It was quite strange to see snow in summer. The snow covered the road, the checkpoint, cutting us off from the outer world. If it weren’t for the radio transmitter coming to life every hour it would have been possible to decide that we were alone in the world. The radio transmitter was on the table next to the flattened out shell, which served as a candle.
The snow fell for several days before it finished as suddenly as it had started. With the fast melting snow our food reserves were coming to an end and thus the first problem had appeared. The second problem was a bullet that hit the sandbag on the breastwork of the machine-gun position. In half an hour the next bullet went through the hand of soldier who grabbed a waterproof tent curtained at the toilet.
— We have got a problem, — I told Serega Beschastnyh by radio — A mongrel sniper starts to shoot every morning at ten o’clock. From a ricochet it seems like he shoots from 4100–4200 point. He is not seen in the snow because of the sun. He smashed the optic of our sniper. Serega, out food is also a goner!
— Tatar! Wait several days! We also have problems with the weather! You have the sun up there but we are under the clouds. How is the situation with petrol for the runner?
— We use it sparingly only for radio and battery charging. There is still some fuel for the stove. The snow is still high on top, but it is melting. We need to get rid of this bastard.
— Ok, Tatar! Take care! Don’t leave the checkpoint. If there are any locals, bring them in and search there. The main thing is not to miss weapons. Ok, over.
And one day was gone, then another and another. In the beginning we milled a pressed cubes of millet-peas concentrate with the stones and then baked bread from such rude flour. By the end of the fourth day we all could not bear the sight of it anymore.
— Tatar, I can’t handle it anymore! — Tolik had stood over a plate. — I will tear to pieces the cook or finish off the sniper with my bare hands!
— Take a seat, — I grinned.
— Be patient! Peas are a healthy and helpful food, — Vitka declared.
— Ye, peas are the only substance that turns into gas from solid without passing a liquid state, — began to laugh Vitalik.
— Well, chief, let’s hunt? We have seen goats, — could not stop Tolik.
— Did you forget about the sniper?
— We might also ambush him!
— Firstly you find the spot from where he shoots at us.
A most silent soldier, Tatar Fethyliev, tore himself away from the plate and said:
— There is a dead horse on the road, 200 metres down. Let’s cut meat and cook it.
We all exchanged glances with each other and swallowed our own saliva.
— Is that the dead horse that we saw before we went on watch? — I asked remembering that day.
… We felt the sweet- sickening smell of dead flesh approaching the checkpoint. When we went a little bit higher, we saw a huge dead body, with its sides swollen by the heat. When we were passing by we disturbed a swarm of big green-blue flies that lazily flew up, buzzing. That day I allowed myself to make a joke with the packing paratrooper:
— You have bred the flies! Watch out, they will grab you into the nest and eat you up…
— That’s the one, Tatar! That’s her!
I shuddered and remembered the big horse’s eye with a large, putrid fly in it.
— Ok, sergeant, let’s chop some meat, — stood up Tolik, his eyes shining greedily.
— What the hell…? We could poison ourselves. There is ptomaine in the meat! — I said perplexedly.
— Come on, Tatar… It will be OK after boiling…
— Well, the hell with it. Do what you want. After all, in the words of our instructor, «I’ll teach you how to eat such food that even a goat would puke." This is a chance to check out what kind of food goats puke.
Early in the early morning, when the sky had become overcast, two soldiers went to the dead horse’s body. We were in the checkpoint on our positions with guns and binoculars ready to cover our friends. We took a good look at the white slope in front of us and hoped that the sniper hadn’t taken up his position. But the bastard already had, and shot at Fethyliev. Tolik fell down in the snow and went quiet. The sniper started to fire one bullet after another hoping to hit our lads through the deep snow.
— Fire, fire! Quickly, damn it! — I shouted at the lads, despite the fact that they were changing magazines in a frantic haste and shooting at the mountain slope. Vitalik was about to cry and yelled:
— Where is he, son of a bitch?! We can’t see the shots!
We stopped firing. We fell silent, as well as the sniper and our boys 100 metres away from us.
— Hey! — We shouted from the checkpoint, — Is anyone alive?
A shot from the slope was the answer. And again it was aimed not at us but at the snow where our boys were hiding. All the guys looked at me, I looked at them with anger.
— Got bored of peas, — I hissed through my teeth, scolding myself inside, — We will be crammed-full of it soon.
— Come on, Tatar! — Sashka Fedotov put his hand on my shoulder, — What will we do? We have to take the lads out.
— What, what, — I grumbled thinking about the situation, — We will dig a trench in the snow.
We were digging snow for four hours. Changing each other, wet from sweat and ice, we cut compressed snow with shovels, dragging it away in waterproof tents. Finally we heard a low joking voice say:
— Stop! Who is it?
We fell in to the snow hole and embraced frozen but alive men.
— Well, how are you? What happened?
Fethyliev looked at me guiltily:
— Here.
I saw his thigh accurately wrapped up in blood-soaked pieces of Tolik’s striped vest. We prepared a bandage, released his thigh and saw a neat inlet above the knee.
— Oh damn it! — Was the only thing I could say.
— In comparison with thinking that he is dead, it is nothing, — added Fedotov.
We turned the wounded man carefully on his belly. There was the same outlet on another side of the thigh; blood oozed out from it.
— Well, let’s bandage him quickly and go home.
In the checkpoint we rinsed and re-bandaged the open wound again, injected antibiotics and just to make sure made an anti-tetanus injection. We made him lie down and covered him with a blanket. Then we sat down at the table.
— So, men, — I asked with acidity, — don’t you still want horsemeat? — And looked at Tolik.
He smiled.
— Well, now it is very simple! We should dig a trench to the horse and then we can take the meat!
— Yes, Tolik, — I smiled back, — necessity is the source of inspiration. So, let’s go and dig.
The trench was finished before the evening. We cut dark red pieces of frozen meat from the lower part of the horse. Half an hour later the meat lay in a kettle, under which a wild flame of fire shot out from the burner. Two slobbering soldiers on duty «danced» around it. Steam billowed up from under the lid and after some time everybody started to smell the air with a bit of confusion.
In the next half an hour no one could stand the stench. It cloaked the whole room and it seemed to me that my eyes were full of tears. Other guys, coughing and holding bulging Adam’s apples, started to go closer to the embrasures and the door.
— Motherfuckers! Where do you think you’re going? — I shouted. — Take the kettle, waterproof tent, kerosene stove and go behind the building.
Everybody went outside.
— Change the water more often, freaks! — I shouted groaning at the backs of soldiers. — You are going to kill me, idiots!
The kerosene stoves made much noise behind the wall, the strong smell of dead flesh and our burst of laughter reigned in the room.
We had to boil the meat all night through. In the morning I said that I wanted to die if it was not possible to eat the meat and tested it. My empty belly replied with satisfied rumbling. After some time, the soldiers on duty, squeezing their noses and putting pieces of cooked meat into salt, started to chew.
The days went by again one after another. We slept, went on duty to the machine-gun position and looked till the eyes were sore at the empty white space around us. In the next two weeks we made a big hole under the dead body and then I had an idea.
— Listen to me, guys. Tomorrow morning we will break up in pairs and go and sit inside the body of the dead horse for two hours with binoculars. The sun is on our side. The binoculars will not blink inside the corpse. We will probe the opposite flank of the hill.
— Tatar! We have nothing to shoot him with. He broke our optics. We cannot get him with automatic rifles or a machine gun.
I looked at the position of machine-gun though the embrasure.
— Shall we try it? — and pointed at the large-caliber DShK machine gun that was standing, pointing its aggressive barrel to the mountains.
— Cooool, said Mishka drawling. — but we will not be able to hit him, only to scare.
— Enough, — I slapped the table, at least we will see this bitch. We will decide what to do with him later.
The DshK machine gun was hidden in the body one night. At the checkpoint we put some army gauntlets on a small plank and made a convincing scarecrow from similar planks and sleeping bags. The first pair took up their place in the morning and the remaining one started to provoke the sniper.
During the whole day edges of helmets and gauntlets were coming into view from the buildings, fence and breastworks. Sometimes the scarecrow with the bulletproof jacket on was lifted to waist-height. The sniper was shooting sparingly and more or less at the target. Finally, a breathless Tolik crept out from a trench.
— That’s it sergeant, — he wheezed, leaning against the stonewall of the checkpoint fence. — The horse corpse has thawed out. It stinks! Rotten serum is dropping behind the collar…
I pushed him aside:
— Stop telling me your feelings about the universe. Back to business!
He smiled:
— Ok, Tatar, he is sitting in the cave! A little bit above us. According to the range finder the distance is around 800 metres.
I embraced him and covered with kisses both his bad-smelling cheeks. Then I crawled to the trench, went under the corpse and was hit by the bad smell.
— How can you survive here?
Mishka passed me the binoculars.
— Do you see the forked peak?
— I see, — I whispered for some reason.
Tolik climbed up on my legs and stuck his head and shoulders under the corpse.
— Here, look down and you will see a cave. He is sitting inside.
— Tolik, crawl back and ask to make some movements at the block post.
Tolik quickly went back and disappeared. In a few moments we heard a shot.
— SVD, — said Mishka confidently, — The shot is short and harsh. Well, have you seen it?
An imperceptible flash appeared for a moment in the black gullet of the cave, it almost merged with the bright white snow. The sound from the shot reached us.
— Yes, — I answered indistinctly and got soaked wet at once.
I moved the binocular higher and saw the long snow cornice. The image of the caravan covered by the avalanche appeared suddenly in my mind.
— Mishka, run quickly to the DShK machine gun!
— Where should I fire? -Moving the barrel to the target direction asked Mishka, — The cave’s like a dot from this position.
— Shut up, — I muttered indistinctly as before. — Can you see the snow cornice beetling above the cave?
— Yes.
— Give a long one along the whole cornice.
It began to roar so strongly in the closed space that we became deaf. Our ears were in pain. The sour smell of gunpowder stuffed our noses and throats and stung our eyes. We started to sneeze and cough and wipe our tears away with our fists.
— Oh, hell! — I guessed by the movement of Mishka’s lips.
The thunder of an avalanche reached us this moment. I looked up with the binoculars. Snow dust curled on the opposite slope and blazed up on the sun. A multicolored rainbow could be seen though the snow fog.
— A rainbow means good luck! — Mishka bawled into my deaf ears thoughtfully.
— Well, — I bawled in turn. What about the dead man?
— Brings luck too! — he laughed.
— It is not a fact that we killed him, — I shouted, — we have to check.
When the snow dust settled down we started to look over the hill’s slope feverishly, using the binoculars one by one. But the cave was gone under a large-tonnage mass of snow. We tried, but could not find anything on the clear, virgin-like snow.
— Yes, we have got him, — Tolik said indistinctly and lazily half an hour later. He was lying on the plank-made bed near me and playing with a chip in his teeth, — Damned horse-flesh! Apart from being rotten, it is difficult to chew also.
The radio transmitter on the table went online with the voice of lieutenant Beschastnyh:
— Swallow, Swallow, I’m the Nest, over!
— Nest, I’m the Swallow — I started to shout in the microphone pressing the button.
— Tatar! Stop shouting. I can hear you well. How are you? — Sergey asked gently.
— Fine! But we have got one «hundredth» (wounded). Nothing serious!
— What about the sniper?
— An avalanche caught him. You know, Sergey, you need to take care in the mountains!
— Ok! A chopper will come tomorrow morning with your replacements, they are also from the motorized infantry unit. You will hand over your checkpoint to them and go back. We are taken out. That is all, over!
Next morning I was woken up by the cries of the person on duty:
— It is coming!
Tolik and I went out and sat next to the exit and started to observe how the helicopter from below, as if without any wish, was slowly approaching and cutting the air with its blades. It hovered about 100 metres away from us, soldiers started to jump out from it into the deep snow and pass their rucksacks and boxes to each other. One of the guests, a tall, young lieutenant with a machine gun on his back came up to us, bending down from the blades' air-blast.
— I’m senior lieutenant Ivanitsky, — he introduced himself, adjusting his gun-belt in a war-like fashion. Who is in charge?
I had a look at him from top to toe. He had new clothes set with sandy camouflage, goldfinch like shoes with high legs, all crisp and clean.
— Come on, senior lieutenant, I will show you our household.
Moving aside the waterproof tent he bent down, went indoors and started to smell with confusion:
— What… What have you kept here? Was it a dead horse?
We exchanged glances with Tolik and could not hold back a smile:
— Exactly, a horse, and a dead one. But we did not keep it, we ate it! We had problems with food.
— Well, where did you get it here?
Tolik squinted cunningly:
— It will finish rotting soon and you will notice where, but do not throw it out, it might be useful!
… The helicopter unwillingly pulled its undercarriage out from the snow and with roaring engines made a full turn above the checkpoint.
For the last time in the illuminator we could see walls made from stone, the machine-gun’s position and the deep snow trench that ends up with a comma of a horse’s black-hoofed leg jutting out from the snow.
The pilot went out from the cabin, started to smell suddenly and shouted to me above the engines:
— What is that stench from you?
I looked at Tolik who was sitting next to me, pressing his forehead against the illuminator. His cheekbones were clenched tightly, but his lips shook as he hardly held back a laugh. Then he leaned against me and no less louder than the pilot, shouted in my ear.
— You see, we did not smell it!
The company’s chief waited for us on the helicopter pad. Soldiers lined up, put down RDs, and unloaded guns. The company’s chief walked up quickly to us and, as he was about to say something, started to smell at the air, after which he suddenly asked:
— Did you eat dead flesh there or what?
A blast of laughter was the answer. Exhausted, I sat down on my rucksack and hid my face in my knees.
Serega asked confusedly:
— Where did you dig it up?
I closed my eyes, full of tears from laughter, with my hand, and, between fits of laughter, managed get out:
— Dug…, dug out!
Sergey looked at the laughing soldiers, smiled and shook his head:
— Well, crazy, you are crazy!
Перевод Александра Краянова и Ильи Плеханова (апрель 2005).