On Defender of the Fatherland Day, it is customary to congratulate all men without exception and with age discounts. Man? Congratulations! So he deserved it. But only a few of them know what service is. An experienced officer's wife talks about how the military lives and serves.

To become a general's wife, you need to marry a lieutenant and travel with him to garrisons. But rare bird will fly to the middle of the Dnieper, which means that with a successful combination of circumstances you will meet old age with your colonel husband. Or you won’t if you escape earlier, unable to withstand all the hardships and hardships of military life.

C - Stability

She simply doesn't exist. You will never know how long you will live in one place and where you will be sent next. Most likely further away. The more remote the location, the higher the chance that you will go there.

Each time you need to start all over again and be prepared for the fact that the water is in the pump, and the amenities are on the street.

T - Patience

We need to find its inexhaustible source. And draw liters from there - one glass on an empty stomach for prevention, and in advanced cases, increase the dosage until the symptoms disappear.

O - Communication

With anyone, just not with my husband. Sometimes he leaves in the morning, as usual, for work and returns not even at night (this is great, by the way, and consider yourself lucky!), but two weeks later, simply because the Motherland said: “We must!” The wife's voice is advisory, but by no means decisive.

D - children

At first it’s difficult with them, grandparents are far away, often there is no one to help, you can only rely on yourself. But children grow up and become like cats! That is, they walk on their own. In a closed area where everyone knows each other, nothing bad will ever happen.

F - pity

Forget it! First, you will learn not to spare yourself, otherwise you will not survive, because the whole life is on you, and your husband has no time - he has a job. Then you will stop feeling sorry for others. And if you see that someone is not fulfilling their duties conscientiously enough, definitely do not remain silent. And that's right!

You probably won’t argue that we, military sailors, and civilians too, are the most vulnerable part of society in terms of safety family relations. I once read about a Norwegian woman, a conqueror of the Arctic, I don’t remember her last name, who said an interesting phrase. Its meaning boiled down to the fact that she conquered the North, but could never be a sailor’s wife, because not every woman will be able to withstand a long separation, nature will take its course, well, it is impossible for a young woman to be a nun in the world. I don’t know how to love a man in order to remain faithful to him when there are a bunch of hefty stallions with lances at the ready. But it happens that a woman remains on top, and a man is shit.

So here it is. We had an absolutely positive lieutenant on our ship; nowadays they call them “nerds.” Didn't smoke, didn't even drink beer, studied English language and perhaps knew him perfectly, at least English literature I read it in the original, I saw it myself. On vacation, my wife and I went to camp sites, where they went hiking and climbed the mountains. In general, there was not a single blemish on his “face of morality.”

It was this “nerd” that our special officer had his eye on. What else do you need? To the cause of the CPSU and Soviet government, like all of us, he is devoted, but, unlike us, he does not drink, does not smoke, and has not been found guilty of anything reprehensible. Hooray! And the special officer recommended him to his office as a future employee. And Vova the Botan gathered for knowledge in the city of Novosibirsk, for there neophytes were introduced to the great caste. But, before changing career guidance, I went on another vacation, as usual, to a camp site. With my wife.

Having had a vacation and gained the necessary amount of health, the family got ready for a new duty station. Vova says to his wife: “Darling, come straight to Novosibirsk, and I’ll send the container from home myself. There's no point in two people dragging along Far East, and then went to Novosibirsk.” The wife said: “Reasonable. I listen and obey."

But it’s not for nothing that they say that in the still waters, you know who is there. Once upon a time, Vova, as a first or second year naval cadet, dated a girl, and she simply dumped him when a fifth-year student loomed on the horizon. Also reasonable. It’s not for me to tell you - why the hell is a first- or second-year brat who needs to be educated and courted for several more years, and here is a ready-made lieutenant with a salary like that of an experienced miner! AND new family went to the Far East.

Vova married a very interesting girl, they had a daughter. According to his assignment, Vova ended up in the same place where the woman who abandoned him had lived for several years. With family, of course. Our town is small, they couldn’t help but meet. In general, feelings flared up again, and people can do a lot of stupid things because of feelings. In short: “If you drown, or get stuck, it will be difficult at first, but then you will get used to it.” Vova stuck and got used to it.

The fornicators decided that they would go to Novosibirsk together, and he would introduce her as his wife, and then, lo and behold, everything would settle down. The husband of Vovin’s passion was in military service. There were children left, she had two of them. But then the wives of officers always helped each other out. And this time the woman came to her friend and asked her to look after the children; she would go away for a day or two. There was nothing unusual in the request, and the friend agreed. In general, the wife runs away with a passing lieutenant, as in sentimental novels. The children stayed with a neighbor. The mother had no intention of returning. Why she did this still remains a mystery. And Vova, you understand, was stuck to the female genital organ and therefore did not understand anything.

But he was a noble man and a great fool. Before leaving, he writes a letter to his legal wife. The same as in sentimental novels: they say, I’m sorry, I loved only her all my life, and married you out of hopelessness and despair. It’s at least unpleasant for any woman to hear this, but Vova’s wife was not just an outwardly interesting woman, but, unlike his passion, she had something in her head. She did not tear up the letter received from her legal husband in annoyance, as a less intelligent woman would have done, but carefully preserved it. And she immediately returned back to her place of residence. There she appeared in a special department and, presenting a letter, made a fuss: “How did Felix Edmundovich teach you? Clean hands!!! A man abandoned his family and went with a whore to your holy of holies!!! How did you let this happen?!”

To the credit of the special officers, they reacted promptly and adequately. They were not afraid to stain the honor of their uniform. Although the order to enroll Vova in their camp was signed by the biggest boss, nevertheless, in a matter of days it was canceled, and Vova was expelled for low moral qualities. He returned to the ship, but there was already another person on his staff. Therefore, Vova was accepted back, but removed from the staff, that is, he received money only for his low rank. He was expelled from the party for the same moral qualities. At a party meeting, his uterus was masterfully and completely turned out, and this story became public, because only our party organs and Catholic inquisitors could take such pleasure in turning out a person’s insides and putting them on public display. Or am I wrong?

A neighbor, after babysitting the children for several days, raised the alarm. The husband was pulled from the ship in the Indian Ocean and urgently taken to his place of residence. Other relatives were also called... In general, the family united again. The lady returned to her husband. Who would dare throw a stone at her? He accepted it. And now they live, but I don’t know whether they are happy.

And Vova was placed in my cabin, and after some time we began to communicate, but we did not touch upon past events at all. He is reserved, and I don’t like to get into a person’s soul. And only once Vova asked:

– Do you think that if I try to return to my family, I will succeed?

- Don't know. – I said honestly. – Women tend to forgive, we should at least try.

Nothing worked out for Vova. Subsequently, he left for another ship, but, in my opinion, he rose only to the top. His wife lived alone, according to neighbors and friends, did not date anyone, and two or three years later she and her daughter left for their homeland.

* captain-lieutenant (captain)

Reviews

Anything can happen.
I had a friend - a marine officer somewhere near Vladik.
You know it yourself - marines on large ships, attached. They went on a hike, six months later he returned - there was a note on the table, his wife was gone.
Married for the second time. After the next trip - the same picture.
He never married again.

Grigory, this is not only among sailors.
Here is a typical episode for you.
Grozny. The second is Chechen. Communication point at Severny airport. They just opened, two booths, satellite connection, expensive. On the porch there is a crowd of all kinds: special forces, riot police, special forces, reconnaissance... They are chatting, flasks in a circle, smoke in a column.
One of the officers called home.
- Hello! Hello! Are you son?
Call mom!
- Mom is gone. Who are you?
- Like who? I am your dad!
- Nope. Dad is washing in the bathroom.
And you are an uncle.

I don’t know what kind of heart he came home with.

O

This is women's happiness...

Registration number 0089599 issued for the work:

A young, beautiful, young wife of an officer, she had just graduated from the pedagogical institute, I was barely twenty-two years old. We arrived at the border, to my husband’s unit. There are forests all around, nature is generous and beautiful, “the air is clean and fresh, like a child’s kiss,” but the wilderness is terrible! I’ll go teach at a garrison school, I’ll definitely find a place for myself, otherwise I’ll die of boredom! My husband is a rather nice, kind and reliable person. A bit soft, my girlfriends called him a “mattress,” but I didn’t care about their characteristics - I’ll live my life behind him, like behind a stone wall. Look, he will also become a general!

The first day in the garrison began stormy and good. We were received warmly and cordially. As I remember now: preparations are underway for the holiday, and we, having thrown our things into the room allocated to us in the officer’s house, happily join in the cheerful chaos. Among the new comrades there is one young officer, he immediately catches your eye: young, but already burdened with life experience, tall, handsome brunette with breathtaking blue eyes. A rare combination! He also looks at me furtively, but very often, I always bump into his gaze. In the huge aquamarine eyes there is admiration and poorly hidden passion. We don't say a word to each other, he laughs a lot, tells jokes and seems excited for no reason.

I am suddenly overcome by an incomprehensible excitement. Finally everyone sits down at the table, there are a lot of people, it’s fun. A strange married couple is present at the festival: a highly experienced general and his flirtatious young wife, frivolously shooting her eyes, as if on a shooting gallery, at the abundance of local young officers. Apparently, I'm tired of my gray-haired husband! They are guests of honor. rear O rovo! Music, youth! Maybe it's not as boring here as I thought? “I’ll still try for a teaching position!” - vouched for herself.

The dancing begins, and my husband is suddenly invited by the young general’s wife. Why she chose him out of all the variety of young interesting men still remains a mystery. The brunette officer immediately comes up to me and silently drops his head on his chest. With my eyes modestly downcast, I walk with him, and my heart begins to dance the Charleston. We are having this conversation.

HIM: “Maybe let’s start talking straight away?”

Me (flirtatiously): “It’s like we didn’t drink at the Brudershaft...”

HE (smiling): “The hint is clear.”

We are very close, his hot hand trembles slightly on my waist.

HE: “Let’s meet! Can you come when your husband falls asleep? I’ll wait until the morning at the very place where the two rivers confluence.”

I know a place with that name. It was shown to my husband and me as the only garrison attraction.

Me: “Okay!” I catch myself. “But no! Why do I need to run at your first call?”

HE: “You see, life is fleeting. You can’t waste time on all sorts of nonsense if you are convinced of the correctness of the decision, as I am now!”

In his words there is a hint of dangerous service, and I feel that he is not showing off at all, he is simply explaining the reason for his incontinence.

Me: “Such frivolity requires very good reasons, agree!”

HIM: “Yes, of course! I really liked you, moreover, I’m in love with you, in love with you... I understood right away, as soon as I saw you! Do you think love at first sight is a good enough reason?”

Me: “I don’t know... For an experienced heartthrob like you, a new officer’s wife is a tasty morsel... for one night. I don’t want that!”

HE: “A very bad hint, Katyusha, but, perhaps, fair. Still, believe me, believe at your own peril and risk, I have something to compare with! Your face, and smile, and light tenderness of words... Everything is in you - life, it’s hard for me to explain... “Tidbit” - it’s not said about you, rather, about the general’s wife. And you -. the only woman The secret I need is behind your eyelashes! But for now I can only offer a date against the backdrop of raging water, for now only a night under the stars. The day will come when I will conquer you, turn your head, and take you away from your husband! You are mine and no one else’s, and you won’t stay with this good guy, just know that!”

Me (trembling): “You’re romantic...”

HE: “In relation to you - yes... So will you come?”

His whisper is trembling, his breath is hot. The officer's mouth almost touches my ear, causing it to ignite and become purple and hot. I barely restrain myself from wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing my plump, painted ala Marilyn Monroe lips against the harsh, hard line of the handsome man’s lips.

All evening the officer doesn’t take his eyes off me, doesn’t dance with anyone else, watching me awkwardly waltz with my tipsy husband. Before leaving, she quietly whispers: “I’m waiting for you, Katyusha!” I know his name - Yuri Petrov, and he is single. However, I don’t care, even if it’s just one night, it’s mine, but there’s even twenty years of melancholy - it’s all the same! A tickling excitement takes over my being, I am shaking as if in a fever. There is no doubt - I am in love! I thought I would never lose my head again! It's hot!

My husband and I come home and he starts awkwardly harassing me. The husband is pretty drunk, breathing live vodka in his face. I weakly respond to his caresses, trying not to arouse suspicion, but he falls asleep right on top of me without doing anything. I carefully roll the softened guy onto his back and wait another ten minutes. I leave the house, I’m wearing a summer dress, a blouse on top, my hair is loose and disheveled from the light breeze, wet grass is whipping my legs. I quickly run across the field to the river. Here it is, the very place where two streams flowing in different sides, but towards each other. The shocked water forms a stormy funnel here, right above which a bridge is built. Looking at the whirlpool from above is both tempting and creepy.

The officer is waiting on the bridge, in his hands is a bottle of champagne (we didn’t drink at the Brudershaft) and a bouquet of wild flowers. I approach slowly, we look into each other's eyes, converge, and he hugs me. His strong, beautiful hands are busy, but his whole body is striving to meet me... No one has ever so silently and eloquently made me understand his thirst, no one has ever seduced me so fiercely and openly! I melt, lose control of myself, and flowers and champagne fly into the abyss of water; the man picks me up in his arms and carries me to the other side. There, in a haystack, under starry sky we spend the first night of love. Go to hell! His kisses drive you crazy, his dives are amazing, his hot confessions are mesmerizing! I rush around as if in agony, whisper crazy words, laugh and cry at the same time... May the morning never come!!!

I come home at dawn, shocked, tired, exhausted, and under the drunken snoring of my husband, I cry bitterly until I am completely dumb. I can’t believe: HE loved me, possessed me, I don’t want to believe: this will never happen again in my life!!! I fall asleep, sobbing... The morning wakes up sunlight and a knock on the door. My husband, groaning from a drinking binge, goes to unlock it, but I don’t want to open my eyes, I don’t want to lose the last remnants of happiness.

"Katyusha, pack your things, I'm coming for you!" - suddenly I hear a painfully familiar voice. He, Yuri Petrov! Without remembering myself, I jump up, muttering: “Yes, yes, yes!” With a groan, I throw myself on his neck.

“I’ve decided not to wait for an opportunity, not to look for prudent solutions, not to lie! I don’t want you to live a day without me!” my lover exclaims and anxiously interrupts himself: “My girl, will you marry me?”

"Yes, yes, yes!" - I repeat like a wind-up. I gather my things under the confused gaze of the one who just yesterday was considered my husband. But I know who my real betrothed is!

Yuri and I endured reproach, condemnation, accusations of immorality, and people’s gossip and survived without wavering. My ex-husband started drinking out of grief. Under New Year, when my beloved returned from a business trip, he again took me to our place. We threw a bottle of champagne into the whirlpool and took a sip. Carefully wrapping my hips in a sheepskin coat, Yuri took possession of me right on the bridge, and we conceived our boys, Volodya and Yaroslav. He said then: “Just as these seething waters do not freeze, so our love with you will never dry up, my Katyusha!” Yuri was again sent from his unit to a closed garrison, lost in the remote taiga. By sending him, the regimental authorities hoped to reconcile me with my husband. But I knew who my real and only husband was!

She continued to live in Officer Petrov’s room, teach at a local school (she finally achieved her goal) and burn with love. It's time to go on maternity leave, and we finally received permission to marry. The attempt to separate us, prevent “immorality” and “preserve the social unit” failed miserably. Only when my belly button climbed onto my nose did the commanders understand: we’re all serious! Yura was hastily returned from a long business trip, fearing that I might give birth to a straw widow. They say that the same general mentioned above said the final word in our defense; he was probably also making a fool of himself by taking the risk of marrying his young bird.

I didn’t see Petrov for five months and when he returned, I hardly recognized him. A thick scar cut through my native face, and my hair was completely grey! But his roughened appearance did not become less beautiful. How I loved him then! Yuri said that he turned gray from missing me and our child, but I didn’t believe him. Snow in my hair - it didn't go anywhere, but the scar... I cried all night.

Soon we had twins, Vovka and Slavik. The event was solemnly celebrated by the entire unit. Even ex-husband forgave me and brought gifts for the boys.

Garrisons, far and near. Borders, northern and southern. Service and teaching. Children and co-worker friends. This is our life in a few words. Sometimes it was not easy, but I don’t regret a minute or a second! Yuri and I still yearn for that beautiful place, the confluence of two rivers, it guides us through life... A whirlpool where water boils and foams, a bridge and a haystack on the opposite bank... A dream come true, a fairy tale in reality!

Our boys are completely different, like the two streams over which we conceived them. And yet, Vladimir and Yaroslav, although they are sailing in opposite directions, are moving towards each other. I believe that someday life will reconcile them. They have a difficult relationship different characters and passions, but the beginning is one - a bridge over stormy waters!

A few years later, a new entry appears in the diary: “We have not wandered around the garrisons for a long time, we settled in N , in my husband's homeland. The boys have become adults and are looking for their own paths in life! And Yuri and I still love each other, we still dream of getting out there, to our place. Look at the whirlpool, remember yourself young and in love. Maybe then our youthful happiness will return again..."

An ellipsis, a charming omission, an illogical hope... There is not a word more in the diary. Apparently, since then she had nothing to write. Everything is here, love and life.

This is women's happiness...

It just so happened that in the career of a naval lieutenant, wives played, are playing and will play a significant role. Tamara Adrianova knew this firsthand, because she was the daughter of Captain 1st Rank Adrianov, a third generation sailor. Her “great-great-great-grandfather” began building ships in the shipyards of Peter himself.

Tamara took after her mother in stature and face, and most importantly in character, who throughout her life was the commander of the quietest captain 1st rank Adrianov. She made a dizzying career for her husband by the standards of Soviet times.

Tamara was born in Leningrad, where the Adrianov couple moved from the most terrible place in the Northern Fleet - Gremikha - after two years of service. Next is the Leningrad naval base and the fast commander's shoulder straps of the Izhora Arsenal, and then a warm place at the weapons department of the Frunze Naval School. Techniques for the spouse’s career development were constantly being improved: from light flirting with superiors during a festive feast, a permanent meeting in women’s councils, and to writing reports on the advantages of the Soviet system, which were necessarily attended by the highest political leadership of the formation, base or school.

The daughter of captain 1st rank Adrianova hooked up with her future husband at a dance in naval school, where her father headed the department by the age of 50. The cadet's name was Slava Sukhobreyev, with a "completely stupid" surname for a naval officer, according to his future mother-in-law. At the registry office, fourth-year cadet Sukhobreev has already become Adrianov. A year later, as expected, with the birth of Artemka, the young family grew to an ordinary naval family of three people. The only unusual thing was that the family arrived at their first duty station consisting of 4 people: two-year-old Artemka, the beautiful Tamara with the most ordinary lieutenant and his extraordinary mother-in-law.

The wife of “comrade of the first rank” Adrianov pestered the lieutenant until he gave the order to the head of the KECH to allocate Adrianov a one-room apartment. To which the head of the KEC, Captain Dzozikov, quietly asked the head of the medical unit about the health status of the base commander. He answered him something along the lines of that the youngsters were completely “overpowered” and they were coming to serve with their mothers-in-law, and hence the possible health problems of Captain 1st Rank Dub himself, the commander of the base. Adrian's mother-in-law was a clone of Oak's wife, who wisely decided to give in on the small things so as not to lose on the big ones. The base commander had just graduated from the logistics academy, and had not yet forgotten strategy and operational art as a science.

Having received full instructions from her mother about the points of Lieutenant Adrianov’s career growth, Tamara and Artemka were left alone to wait for Slava, who went to sea the very next day after her mother appeared in Dub’s office. The rest of the young lieutenants: Ponamar, Fima and Starov, who were given two whole weeks to settle down as bachelors, “rejoiced for their friend” with a fairly decent beer, believing that the hasty departure to sea of ​​a “green lieutenant by the standards of the service” and the acquaintance of his mother-in-law with the command were phenomena same order. Friends sometimes dropped in on Tamara, helping to arrange her happiness in a separate family nest, which “according to the concepts and naval tradition” was reserved for lieutenants, with the only difference being that by that time they had become lieutenant-commanders. Young families lived in two or even three families in one apartment for 3-4 years. It all depended on how the couple endured “the hardships and hardships of military life.”

The return of Slava Adrianov coincided with his birthday, so Tamara, following her mother’s instructions on career growth tactics, decided to arrange everything on a grand scale, inviting captain 1st rank Dub and his wife and the head of the political department with his wife to visit, hinting that perhaps she would come from Peter and mom. Dub, having learned about this, called the “chief of medicine” into the office and after a two-hour meeting, agreeing with the doctor’s arguments, in confusion, washed down a blood pressure pill with an awl (pure alcohol - fl. slang) from a decanter that he kept in the commander’s safe.

Slava’s friends had to not only rush to the city for groceries, but also empty their pockets to arrange a grandiose table, giving away the last of the due allowances. The table turned out to be royal, and could decorate the reception of the Commander-in-Chief of the USSR Navy.

Finally, Slava returned “from the seas” three days late for his birthday, but this no longer mattered for the career start plan approved by the great mother-in-law over the phone. Mother Andrianova herself, to Vyacheslav’s quiet joy, could not come, but the cunning Tamara did not inform the base commander’s wife about this, and therefore Pyotr Andreevich Dub and his wife, the director of the military camp school, arrived, as befits a commander’s couple, at the time established by the regulations.

The unexpected fact of the presence of the base commander himself at the birthday party of the young lieutenant gave rise to many rumors: from the family ties of the Adrianov family with one of the members of the CPSU Central Committee, to the piquant details of the pranks of the fleet commander during his time as a lieutenant in Gremikha, and hence the birth of the illegitimate beauty Tamara.

Frida Romanovna was not only the head of the school - the cultural center of the village, but also a writer by vocation. For her, in addition to home and school, poetry evenings in the House of Officers were a necessary attribute of power, where she could outshine the “ignorant upstart” - the first lady of the formation, the admiral’s wife herself. Any feast for Frida turned into another creative idea, so the young lieutenants had to learn poetry for Adrian’s birthday in accordance with the editing and literary treatment of Frida herself. She liked to conduct rehearsals with young lieutenants on weekends, when her husband went hunting or fishing. It was rumored that she also indulged in “little pranks.” But that’s what a closed garrison is for, to give a reason to gossip, even for the sake of boredom. The fleet is strong in tradition, so why not?!

As expected, the innovations in the regulations for visiting the “star Adrianov family” were not entirely successful. The young part of the officer corps was too squeezed by the high presence at Slavka’s name day, and the “high presence” itself, understanding the idiocy of the situation, kept silent and leaned on the “Olivier”, showing that its mouth was busy and “it” did not intend to lavish pleasantries on the birthday boy. Mikhail Svetlov’s poems didn’t help either.

Starov tried, after short toasts to his colleague and his family, to pick up a guitar and growl to Vysotsky, but, faced with the disapproving glances of Toma and Frida, he fell silent, and never “Singed to the end...” Having recited their part of the montage, Fima and Ponamar ran away to kitchen, supposedly to smoke; but Starov, squeezed on one side by the elastic thigh of the wife of the head of the political department, and on the other by the skinny relics of Captain Dzozikov’s wife, thought sadly about the “free friends” who were “secretly” applying themselves at that moment to the neck of the steel awl. The birthday boy was sitting at the head of the table and, not knowing how to behave, pretended to pay attention to the idiotic reasoning of the quickly developed doctor about the possibility of women also participating in “autonomous missions” on submarines in the near future. So an hour passed in agony for everyone. To the horror of the hostess, Frida Romanovna, dissatisfied with the table behavior of some young girls leaning on the “dry”, whispered something in the ear of the satisfied Oak. The situation was aggravated by the sound of jackhammers and the rumble of an excavator in the yard.

Artemka saved the festive feast. He burst into the room from the street in a suit smeared with clay. The grimy face made cute faces. As he walked, tearing off his hat with a blue pompom, like his overalls, throwing off his wet and dirty mittens under his feet, he shouted loudly, not paying any attention to the guests: “Piss, mom. Quickly, pee!”

Artemka began to talk early, and by the age of 2.5 he spoke so clearly with amazing diction that in response to ordinary questions: “How old is yours?” he aroused surprise and a certain distrust among his neighbors, especially since he was a big man beyond his years.

Before being escorted outside, Artemka ran in to the guests. Frida Romanovna, leaning her powerful torso towards the cute boy, lisped and asked the traditional: “What are our names” - she was indescribably delighted with what she heard in pure Russian, and not in the gibberish of an infant: - Artem!

- Good God, what an admiral! – the table unanimously supported the enthusiastic remark of the base commander’s wife. The commander himself stopped chewing and moved to Starov’s place closer to the baby.

– Will you be an officer, like your father?! – Senior Adrianov proudly contemplated what was happening, spinal cord feeling that it has passed and the festive dinner has been saved.

- No, a football player - a hockey player! – Artemka shouted to enthusiastic applause, accepting the adults’ game.

- Did you go to the street?! – Asked a satisfied Frida. A curly little head with eyes like lakes swayed as a sign of approval of the affectionate question, and a plump finger ended up in the nose.

“We remove our fingers,” Frida Romanovna began to sing, “And I tell you what we saw on the playground,” gently removing her small hand from her beautiful face, as women like to say: “in bandages.” The little one hid his hand behind his back and said loudly:

– I saw that the hole was buried at X...!

The table froze and quietly exhaled, although the drunken doctor voiced a little louder the three Russian letters in which the sailors working in the yard had buried a hole. The cackle shook the room. Artemka, picked up strong hands the enthusiastic captain 1st rank Duba flew to the ceiling. Frida Romanovna, who instantly looked like Faina Ranevskaya, laughed merrily, leaning back on the sofa. Stunned by her son’s prank, Tamara sank helplessly into a chair. Artemka flopped around in Oak’s arms, “somewhere up there,” and burst into joy.

Starov realized that the baby had destroyed in a second the wall separating young families and families that had taken place in these harsh northern everyday life. He is the one for whom nuclear submarines and long voyages are needed! Artemka is the center of the universe, around which this complex world adults with their eternal questions of career and the harsh Soviet life of military camps.

Released, Artem, to the first ovation in his life, ran out into the street to the big “boys” and lonely pensioners - in one impulse, rejoicing that they managed to fill the hole in the yard, correctly (“before the severe northern frosts”).

Deep after midnight, a friendly song “about an island melting in the fog” rushed over a courtyard with shabby houses and flew to that same Rybachy Island. Oak in the kitchen with Ponamar and Slava were “sipping” from a flask of alcohol and smoking “Rhodopi”. Tamara was placing a pillow more comfortably under the head of the doctor, who was fast asleep to the sounds of sea songs. Fima passionately kissed Captain Dozikov's wife in the bathroom, and the captain himself squatted with the enthusiastic Artemka and rattled, playing excavator on the palace, which was portrayed by Lieutenant Starov.

The life of young lieutenants, thanks to Artemka Adrianov, was getting better. Unlike Ponamary, Starov and Fima, Slava received senior lieutenant three days earlier, but they still celebrated a year later all together in the presence of high authorities. Maybe because the Dubov couple liked the young lieutenants graduated in 1978, or maybe because Slavka’s mother-in-law came for such a significant event for her.

Journalist and writer Vasily Sarychev has been recording the memories of old-timers for fifteen years, recording the history of the western region of Belarus through their destinies. His new story, written specifically for TUT.BY, is dedicated to Soviet women, which in 1941 Soviet power left to the mercy of fate. During the occupation, they were forced to survive, including with the help of the Germans.

Vasily Sarychev is working on a series of books “In Search of Lost Time.” As the author notes, this is “the history of Europe in the mirror of a Western Belarusian city, told by old people who survived six powers” ​​( Russian Empire, German occupation during the First World War, the period when Western Belarus was part of Poland, Soviet rule, German occupation during the Second World War and again Soviet rule).

Fundraising for the publication of Sarychev’s new book from the series “In Search of Lost Time” ends on the “Beehive” crowdfunding platform. On the page of this project you can familiarize yourself with the contents, study the list of gifts and participate in the publication of the book. Participants will receive the book as a gift for the New Year holidays.

TUT.BY has already published Vasily about his incredible fate common man caught in the millstones big politics, "polite people" from 1939 and a naked escape from prison. New story dedicated to the wives of Soviet commanders.

When Western Belarus was annexed to the USSR, they came to our country as victors. But then, when their husbands retreated to the east with the active army, they turned out to be of no use to anyone. How did they survive under the new government?

I'm on you like I'm at war. Abandoned

“Let your Stalin feed you!”


Many years ago, in the sixties, there was an incident at the entrance of the Brest factory. The enterprise is predominantly female, after a shift the workers rushed home like an avalanche, and conflicts arose in the crush. They didn’t look at their faces: whether it was an editorial or a deputy, they applied it with proletarian directness.

At the turnstile, as in a bathhouse, everyone is equal, and the wife of the commander from the Brest Fortress, who headed the factory trade union - not yet old, not twenty years since the war, having survived the occupation - was pushing towards general principles. Maybe she hit someone - with her elbow or during distribution - and the young weaver, who had heard from her friends things that are not written about in the newspapers, lashed out: “German prostitute!” - and she grabbed them by the breasts and croaked: “If you had small children...”

So in one phrase - the whole truth about the war, with many shades from which we were carefully led away.

In conversations with people who survived the occupation, at first I could not understand when they made the remark “this is after the war” and began to talk about the Germans. For the Brest man in the street, military actions flashed in one morning, and then another government, three and a half years of deep German rear. Different categories of citizens - locals, Easterners, Poles, Jews, Ukrainians, party workers, prisoners who escaped from behind the wire, commander's wives, Soltys, policemen - each had their own war. Some experienced trouble at home, where neighbors, relatives, where walls help. It was very bad for those whom hard times found in a foreign land.

They arrived before the war in “liberated” western edge ladies - yesterday's girls from the Russian outback, who pulled out a lucky ticket (we are talking about the events of 1939, when Western Belarus was annexed to the USSR. - TUT.BY). Marrying a lieutenant from a dislocated regiment meant a jump in status. And here is the “liberation campaign” and in general a different world, where people, when meeting them, lift the brim of their hat and address themselves as “sir,” where in a store without an appointment there are bicycles with wonderfully curved handlebars, and private traders smoke a dozen varieties of sausages, and for a penny you can get at least five cuts on the dress... And all these people look at her and her husband with caution - they look right...

Nina Vasilyevna Petruchik - by the way, the cousin of Fyodor Maslievich, whose fate was already discussed in the chapter “Polite People of 1939”, recalled that autumn in the town of Volchin: “The commanders’ wives were in boots, printed cotton dresses, black velvet jackets and huge white scarves. At the market they began to buy embroidered nightgowns and, out of ignorance, wore them instead of dresses...”

Maybe the weather was like this - I’m talking about boots, but they meet you by clothes. This is how an eleven-year-old girl saw them: very poor people had arrived. People, laughing, sold their nighties, but laughter was laughter, and those who arrived became masters of life in the pre-war year and a half.

But life counts for random happiness. It was these women, perceived with hostility, with children in their arms, who, with the outbreak of the war, were left alone in an alien world. From a privileged caste they suddenly turned into pariahs, thrown out of queues with the words: “Let your Stalin feed you!”

This was not the case with everyone, but it happened, and it is not for us now to judge the methods of survival that young women chose. The easiest thing was to find a guardian who would warm and feed the children, and somewhere protect them.

“Limousines with German officers drove up to the building and took away young women, the inhabitants of this house.”


Photo is for illustrative purposes only.

A boy from the occupation times, Vasily Prokopuk, who was hanging around the city with his friends, recalled that on the former Moskovskaya (we are talking about one of the Brest streets. - TUT.BY) you could see young women with soldiers walking in the direction of the fortress. The narrator is convinced that it was not the local girls who “spaced” her by the arm, for whom such advances are more difficult to accept: there were parents, neighbors, in whose eyes she grew up, the church, and finally. Maybe Polish women are more relaxed? - “What are you talking about, Poles have arrogance! - answered my respondents. “There was a case when a lady was seen flirting with an occupier—the priest included this in his sermon...”

“The war is sweeping through Russia, and we are so young...” - three and a half years is a long time in a short Indian life. But this was not the main motive - the children, their eternally hungry eyes. The poor boys did not delve into the subtleties, they muttered contemptuously about the women from the former houses of the officers: “They found themselves...”

“In the center of the courtyard,” the author writes, “stood a rather exotic outbuilding in which a German major, our current commander, lived, along with a beautiful young woman and her small child. We soon learned that this was the ex-wife of a Soviet officer, left to the mercy of fate during the tragic days of June 1941 for the Red Army. In the corner of the barracks yard stood a three-story brick building, inhabited by abandoned families of Soviet officers. In the evenings, limousines with German officers and they took away the young women, the inhabitants of this house.”

The situation allowed for options. For example, weren’t the commander’s wives taken away by force? According to Ivan Petrovich, “it was a small barracks, converted into a residential building, with several apartments per floor. Young women lived here, most with small children. It is possible that before the war this was a command staff’s house, where families were caught up in the war: I did not see any guards or any signs of forced detention.

More than once or twice I witnessed how the Germans arrived here in the evening: our camp was across the parade ground from this house. Sometimes they dropped in to see the commandant, other times straight away. This was not a trip to a brothel - they were going to the ladies. They knew about the visit and smiled as if they were good friends. Usually the Germans arrived in the evening, went upstairs, or the women themselves came out dressed, and the gentlemen took them, one might assume, to a theater or restaurant. I didn’t have to witness the return; I don’t know who the children were with. But everyone in the camp knew that these were the commanders’ wives. They understood that for women it was a means of survival.”

That's how it happened. IN last days Before the war, commanders and party workers who wanted to take families out of the city were accused of alarmism and expelled from the party - and now the women were left for the use of Wehrmacht officers.

The son's name was Albert, the Germans came and became Adolf


Photo is for illustrative purposes only.

It would be wrong to say that the abandoned women were all looking for such support; it was just one of the ways to survive. Unpopular, overstepping the line beyond which lies gossip and piercing glances.

Women who came to Western Belarus from the east often lived in groups of two or three, which made it easier to survive. We went to distant villages (they didn’t give it to nearby villages anymore), but you couldn’t live on alms alone, and got a job washing carriages, barracks, and soldiers’ dormitories. A German once gave the wife of a political commissar from an artillery regiment a large postcard, and she hung it on the wall to decorate the room. Many years passed after the war, but the old women remembered the picture - they kept a watchful eye on each other during the war.

The wife of the battalion commander of the rifle regiment, which was stationed in the fortress before the war, at the beginning of the occupation transferred her little son from Albert to Adolf, she came up with this move, and after liberation she made him Albert again. The other widows moved away from her, turned away, but that was not the main thing for the mother.

Some will be closer to her truth, others - to the heroic Vera Khoruzhey, who insisted on going to occupied Vitebsk at the head of an underground group, leaving a baby and little daughter in Moscow.

Life is multifaceted, and those who survived the occupation recalled different things. And the romantically inclined person who was leaving the terrible SD building, clearly not after torture, and the German’s love for a Jewish girl, whom he hid to the last and went to the penal company for her, and the city plantation worker who hastily appeased the Wehrmacht soldiers nearby in the park, until she was gone shot by a client who had contracted a bad disease. In each case there was something different: where there was food, where there was physiology, and somewhere there was feeling, love.

Outside of service, the Germans became gallant, wealthy males. N., a bright beauty in her youth, told me: even if you don’t go beyond the threshold, they stick to you like ticks.

Statistics will not answer how many red-haired babies were born during the war and after the expulsion of the Germans from the temporarily occupied territory, as, indeed, with the Slavic appearance in Germany at the beginning of 46... This is a delicate topic to take deeply, and we went somewhere- then to the side...

Maybe it’s in vain to talk about commander’s wives at all - there were enough restless women of all statuses and categories, and they all behaved differently. Some tried to hide their beauty, while others, on the contrary, turned it to their advantage. The wife of the reconnaissance battalion commander, Anastasia Kudinova, who was older, shared shelter with young partners who had also lost their husbands in the fortress. All three of them with children are like a nursery. As soon as the Germans appeared, she smeared her friends with soot and kept them away from the window. I wasn’t afraid for myself, my friends joked, our old maid... They pulled their motherly burden and survived without the enemy’s shoulder, then they joined the fight.

They were not the only ones, many remained faithful, waiting for their husbands throughout the war and later. However, the contrasts - those who came, those who are here - are not entirely correct. Everywhere there are people who are cultured and those who are not, those with principles and those who are creeping, those who are pure and those who are vicious. And there are depths in any person where it is better not to look, the nature of all sorts of things is mixed up, and what will manifest itself with greater force largely depends on the circumstances. It so happened that since June 22, 1941, the most disadvantaged, stunned by these circumstances, were the “Easterns”.

We wouldn’t miss anything else—the reason. How did it happen that we had to flee to Smolensk and further, leaving behind weapons, warehouses, the entire personnel army, and in the border areas, also their wives, to the delight of the Wehrmacht officers?

Then there was noble rage, the science of hatred in journalistic execution and real, which increased tenfold in strength in battle. This hatred helped to fulfill combat missions, but surprisingly was not transferred to the direct culprits of much suffering.