Yuri Vasilievich Bondarev

"Hot Snow"

Colonel Deev's division, which included an artillery battery under the command of Lieutenant Drozdovsky, was, among many others, transferred to Stalingrad, where the main forces of the Soviet Army were concentrated. The battery included a platoon commanded by Lieutenant Kuznetsov. Drozdovsky and Kuznetsov graduated from one school in Aktobe. At the school, Drozdovsky "stood out for his underlined, as if innate bearing, with an imperious expression of a thin pale face - the best cadet in the division, the favorite of the military commanders." And now, after graduating from college, Drozdovsky became the closest commander of Kuznetsov.

Kuznetsov's platoon consisted of 12 people, among whom were Chibisov, the gunner of the first gun Nechaev and senior sergeant Ukhanov. Chibisov managed to be in German captivity. They looked askance at people like him, so Chibisov tried his best to serve. Kuznetsov believed that Chibisov should have committed suicide instead of surrendering, but Chibisov was over forty, and at that moment he was thinking only of his children.

Nechaev, a former sailor from Vladivostok, was an incorrigible womanizer and, on occasion, liked to look after the medical officer of the battery, Zoya Elagina.

Before the war, Sergeant Ukhanov served in the criminal investigation department, then graduated from the Aktobe military school together with Kuznetsov and Drozdovsky. Once Ukhanov was returning from AWOL through the toilet window, stumbled upon the battalion commander, who was sitting on the push and could not hold back his laughter. A scandal erupted, because of which Ukhanov was not given the officer's rank. For this reason, Drozdovsky treated Ukhanov with disdain. Kuznetsov, on the other hand, accepted the sergeant as an equal.

Medical instructor Zoya at every stop resorted to the carriages in which Drozdovsky's battery was located. Kuznetsov guessed that Zoya came only to see the battery commander.

At the last stop, Deev, the commander of the division, which included Drozdovsky's battery, arrived at the train. Next to Deyev, “leaning on a stick, walked a lean, slightly uneven gait, an unfamiliar general.<…>It was the commander of the army, Lieutenant General Bessonov. " The general's eighteen-year-old son was missing on the Volkhov front, and now every time the general's gaze fell on a young lieutenant, he remembered his son.

At this stop, Deev's division unloaded from the echelon and moved on on horse-drawn traction. In Kuznetsov's platoon, the horses were driven by sleds Rubin and Sergunenkov. At sunset we made a short rest. Kuznetsov guessed that Stalingrad remained somewhere behind his back, but did not know that their division was moving "towards the German tank divisions that had launched an offensive in order to unblock Paulus's army of many thousands surrounded in the Stalingrad region."

The kitchens fell behind and got lost somewhere in the rear. People were hungry and instead of water they were collecting trampled, dirty snow from the roadside. Kuznetsov talked about this with Drozdovsky, but he sharply besieged him, saying that it was at the school that they were on an equal footing, and now he is the commander. "Every word of Drozdovsky<…>raised in Kuznetsovo such unconquerable, dull resistance, as if what Drozdovsky did, spoke, ordered him to were a stubborn and calculated attempt to remind him of his power, to humiliate him. " The army moved on, in every way scolding the elders who had disappeared somewhere.

While Manstein's tank divisions began to break through to the grouping of Colonel-General Paulus surrounded by our troops, the newly formed army, which included Deev's division, was thrown south on Stalin's orders to meet the German strike group Goth. This new army was commanded by General Pyotr Aleksandrovich Bessonov, a middle-aged introverted man. “He didn’t want to please everyone, didn’t want to seem pleasant for everyone to talk to. Such a petty game with the aim of winning sympathy has always sickened him. "

Recently, it seemed to the general that "the whole life of his son passed monstrously imperceptibly, slipped past him." All his life, moving from one military unit to another, Bessonov thought that he would still have time to rewrite his life completely, but in a hospital near Moscow he “for the first time had the thought that his life, the life of a military man, could probably only be in a single version, which he himself chose once and for all. " It was there that his last meeting with his son Victor, a freshly baked junior lieutenant in the infantry, took place. Bessonov's wife, Olga, asked him to take his son with him, but Victor refused, and Bessonov did not insist. Now he was tormented by the knowledge that he could save his only son, but he did not. "He felt more and more sharply that the fate of his son was becoming his father's cross."

Even during the reception at Stalin's, where Bessonov was invited before the new appointment, the question arose about his son. Stalin was well aware that Victor was part of the army of General Vlasov, and Bessonov himself was familiar with him. Nevertheless, Stalin approved the appointment of Bessonov as general of the new army.

From 24 to 29 November, the troops of the Don and Stalingrad fronts fought against the encircled German group. Hitler ordered Paulus to fight to the last soldier, then an order was received for Operation Winter Thunderstorm - breaking through the encirclement of the German army Don under the command of Field Marshal Manstein. On December 12, Colonel-General Goth struck at the junction of the two armies of the Stalingrad Front. By December 15, the Germans had advanced forty-five kilometers towards Stalingrad. The introduced reserves could not change the situation - German troops stubbornly fought their way to the encircled group of Paulus. The main task of Bessonov's army, reinforced by a tank corps, was to detain the Germans and then force them to retreat. The last frontier was the Myshkova River, after which a flat steppe stretched right up to Stalingrad itself.

At the command post of the army, located in a dilapidated village, an unpleasant conversation took place between General Bessonov and a member of the military council, divisional commissar Vitaly Isayevich Vesnin. Bessonov did not trust the commissioner, believed that he was sent to look after him because of a fleeting acquaintance with the traitor, General Vlasov.

In the middle of the night, Colonel Deev's division began to dig in on the banks of the Myshkova River. Lieutenant Kuznetsov's battery dug guns into the frozen ground on the very bank of the river, scolding the foreman, who had lagged behind the battery for a day along with the kitchen. Sitting down to rest a little, Lieutenant Kuznetsov recalled his native Zamoskvorechye. The lieutenant's father, an engineer, caught a cold while building in Magnitogorsk and died. Mother and sister remained at home.

Having dug in, Kuznetsov, together with Zoya, went to the command post to Drozdovsky. Kuznetsov looked at Zoya, and it seemed to him that he “saw her, Zoya,<…>in a house comfortably heated for the night, at a table covered with a clean white tablecloth for the holiday ”, in his apartment on Pyatnitskaya.

The battery commander explained the military situation and said that he was dissatisfied with the friendship that arose between Kuznetsov and Ukhanov. Kuznetsov objected that Ukhanov could have been a good platoon leader if he had received the rank.

When Kuznetsov left, Zoya stayed with Drozdovsky. He spoke to her "in the jealous and at the same time demanding tone of a man who had the right to ask her like that." Drozdovsky was unhappy that Zoya visited Kuznetsov's platoon too often. He wanted to hide from everyone his relationship with her - he was afraid of gossip that would start walking around the battery and seep into the headquarters of a regiment or division. Zoya was bitter to think that Drozdovsky loved her so little.

Drozdovsky was from a family of hereditary military men. His father died in Spain, his mother died the same year. After the death of his parents, Drozdovsky did not go to an orphanage, but lived with distant relatives in Tashkent. He believed that his parents had betrayed him and was afraid that Zoya would betray him too. He demanded from Zoya proof of her love for him, but she could not cross the last line, and this angered Drozdovsky.

General Bessonov arrived at the Drozdovsky battery, awaiting the return of the scouts who had gone for the "language." The general understood that the turning point of the war had come. The testimony of the "tongue" was supposed to give the missing information about the reserves of the German army. The outcome of the Battle of Stalingrad depended on this.

The battle began with a Junkers raid, after which German tanks attacked. During the bombing, Kuznetsov remembered the gun sights - if they were broken, the battery would not be able to fire. The lieutenant wanted to send Ukhanov, but realized that he had no right and would never forgive himself if something happened to Ukhanov. Risking his life, Kuznetsov went to the guns together with Ukhanov and found there the sleds Rubin and Sergunenkov, with whom the seriously wounded scout lay.

Having sent a scout to the NP, Kuznetsov continued the battle. Soon he no longer saw anything around him, he commanded the weapon "in evil rapture, in a reckless and frantic unity with calculation." The lieutenant felt "this hatred of possible death, this fusion with a weapon, this fever of delusional fury, and only out of the corner of his mind understanding what he was doing."

Meanwhile, the German self-propelled gun hid behind two destroyed tanks by Kuznetsov and began to fire point-blank at the neighboring gun. Assessing the situation, Drozdovsky handed Sergunenkov two anti-tank grenades and ordered him to crawl to the self-propelled gun and destroy it. Young and frightened, Sergunenkov died without fulfilling the order. “He sent Sergunenkov, having the right to give orders. And I was a witness - and for the rest of my life I will curse myself for this, ”thought Kuznetsov.

By the end of the day, it became clear that the Russian troops could not withstand the onslaught of the German army. German tanks have already broken through to the northern bank of the Myshkova River. General Bessonov did not want to bring fresh troops into battle, fearing that the army would not have enough strength for a decisive blow. He ordered to fight to the last shell. Now Vesnin understood why there were rumors about Bessonov's cruelty.

Having moved to KP Deev, Bessonov realized that it was here that the Germans sent the main blow. The scout, found by Kuznetsov, reported that two more people, along with the captured "tongue", were stuck somewhere in the German rear. Soon Bessonov was informed that the Germans had begun to surround the division.

The chief of the army's counterintelligence arrived from the headquarters. He showed Vesnin a German leaflet containing a photograph of Bessonov's son, and told how well the son of a famous Russian military leader was looked after in a German hospital. The headquarters wanted Bessnonov to stay permanently in the command post of the army, under supervision. Vesnin did not believe in the betrayal of Bessonov Jr., and decided not to show this leaflet to the general for now.

Bessonov brought the tank and mechanized corps into battle and asked Vesnin to go to meet and hurry them. Following the general's request, Vesnin died. General Bessonov never found out that his son was alive.

Ukhanov's only surviving gun fell silent late in the evening, when the shells obtained from other guns ran out. At this time, the tanks of Colonel General Goth crossed the Myshkova River. With the onset of darkness, the battle began to subside behind his back.

Now, for Kuznetsov, everything "was measured in different categories than a day ago." Ukhanov, Nechaev and Chibisov were barely alive from fatigue. "This is the one and only surviving weapon<…>and there are four of them<…>were rewarded with a smiling fate, the occasional happiness to survive the day and evening of an endless battle, to live longer than others. But there was no joy in life. " They found themselves in the German rear.

Suddenly the Germans began to attack again. By the light of the rockets, they saw a human body a stone's throw from their firing area. Chibisov shot him, mistaking him for a German. It turned out to be one of those Russian intelligence officers whom General Bessonov had been waiting for. Two more scouts, together with the "tongue", hid in a crater near two knocked-out armored personnel carriers.

At this time, Drozdovsky appeared at the calculation, along with Rubin and Zoya. Without looking at Drozdovsky, Kuznetsov took Ukhanov, Rubin and Chibisov and went to the aid of the scout. Following Kuznetsov's group, Drozdovsky also linked up with two signalmen and Zoya.

A captured German and one of the scouts were found at the bottom of a large crater. Drozdovsky ordered to look for a second scout, despite the fact that, making his way to the crater, he attracted the attention of the Germans, and now the entire area was under machine-gun fire. Drozdovsky himself crawled back, taking with him the "tongue" and the surviving scout. On the way, his group came under fire, during which Zoya was seriously wounded in the stomach, and Drozdovsky was concussed.

When Zoya was brought to the check-in on an unfolded overcoat, she was already dead. Kuznetsov was like in a dream, “everything that kept him in unnatural tension these days<…>suddenly relaxed in him. " Kuznetsov almost hated Drozdovsky for not saving Zoya. “He cried so lonely and desperately for the first time in his life. And when he wiped his face, the snow on the sleeve of the quilted jacket was hot from his tears. "

Already late in the evening, Bessonov realized that the Germans had not been able to push off the northern bank of the Myshkova River. By midnight, the fighting had stopped, and Bessonov wondered if this was due to the fact that the Germans had used all their reserves. Finally, a "tongue" was delivered to the command post, which reported that the Germans had indeed brought in reserves into battle. After interrogation, Bessonov was informed that Vesnin had died. Now Bessonov regretted that their relationship “through his fault, Bessonov,<…>did not look what Vesnin wanted and what they should have been. "

The front commander contacted Bessonov and said that four tank divisions were successfully entering the rear of the Don army. The general ordered an attack. Meanwhile, Bessonov's adjutant found a German leaflet among Vesnin's belongings, but did not dare to tell the general about it.

Forty minutes after the start of the attack, the battle reached a turning point. Following the battle, Bessonov could not believe his eyes when he saw that several guns had survived on the right bank. The corps brought into battle pushed the Germans back to the right bank, captured the crossings and began to surround the German troops.

After the battle, Bessonov decided to drive along the right bank, taking with him all the available awards. He awarded everyone who survived this terrible battle and the German encirclement. Bessonov "did not know how to cry, and the wind helped him, gave vent to tears of delight, sorrow and gratitude." The Order of the Red Banner was awarded to the entire crew of Lieutenant Kuznetsov. Ukhanov was hurt that Drozdovsky also received the order.

Kuznetsov, Ukhanov, Rubin and Nechaev sat and drank vodka with orders lowered into it, and the battle continued ahead. Retold Julia Peskovaya

As a blacksmith, with his fellow students, he is supposedly going to the Western Front, but after a stop in Saratov, it turned out that the entire division was being transferred to Stalingrad. Shortly before unloading at the front line, the locomotive makes a stop. The soldiers, waiting for breakfast, went out to warm up.

Medical instructor Zoya, in love with Drozdovsky, the battery commander and Kuznetsov's classmate, constantly came to their cars. At this parking lot, Deev, the division commander and Lieutenant General Bessonov, the army commander, joined the composition. Bessonov was approved at a personal meeting by Stalin himself, presumably because of his reputation as cruel, ready to do anything for the sake of victory. Soon the entire division was unloaded from the composition and sent to meet the army of Paulus.

The division went far ahead, and the kitchens were left behind. The soldiers were hungry, eating dirty snow, when the order came to join the army of General Bessonov and go out to meet the fascist strike group of Colonel General Goth. Before the army of Bessonov, which included Deev's division, the country's supreme leadership was tasked with keeping the army of Goth by any sacrifice and not letting them into Paulus's grouping. Deev's division digs in at the line on the banks of the Myshkova River. Fulfilling the order, Kuznetsov's battery dug in guns near the river bank. After Kuznetsov takes Zoya with him and goes to Drozdovsky. Drozdovsky is unhappy that Kuznetsov is making friends with another of their classmates, Ukhanov (Ukhanov could not get a worthy title, like his classmates, only because, returning from an unauthorized absence through the window of a men's toilet, he found the general sitting on the toilet and laughed for a long time). But Kuznetsov does not support Drozdovsky's snobbery and communicates with Ukhanov as an equal. Bessonov comes to Drozdovsky and waits for the scouts who left for the "language." The outcome of the battle for Stalingrad depends on the denunciation of the "language". The fight begins unexpectedly. The Junkers swooped in, followed by tanks. Kuznetsov and Ukhanov make their way to their guns and find a wounded scout with them. He reports that the "tongue" with two scouts is now in the fascist rear. Meanwhile, the Nazi army is encircling Deev's division.

In the evening, all the shells at the last surviving rooted gun, behind which Ukhanov stood, ran out of shells. The Germans continued to attack and move forward. Kuznetsov, Drozdovsky with Zoya, Ukhanov and several other people from the division find themselves in the rear of the Germans. They went to look for scouts with a "tongue." They are found at the crater from the explosion and are trying to get them out of there. Under shelling, Drozdovsky is concussed and wounds Zoya in the stomach. Zoya dies and Kuznetsov blames Drozdovsky for this. Hates him and cries, wiping his face with snow hot from tears. The "language" delivered to Bessonov confirms that the Germans have introduced reserves.

The turning point that influenced the outcome of the battle was the guns dug in the shore and by a lucky chance they survived. It was these guns, dug in by Kuznetsov's battery, that drove the Nazis to the right bank, held the crossings and allowed the German troops to be encircled. After the end of this bloody battle, Bessonov collected all the awards that he had in his possession and, having driven along the banks of the Myshkova River, awarded everyone who survived in the German encirclement. Kuznetsov, Ukhanov and several other people from the platoon sat and drank.

Features of the problematics of one of the works of military prose The Impressive Power of Realism in Hot Snow The Truth of War in Yuri Bondarev's Novel Hot Snow Events of Bondarev's novel "Hot Snow" War trouble dream and youth! (based on the work "Hot Snow") Features of the problematics of one of the works of military prose (Based on the novel by Yu. Bondarev "Hot Snow")

Colonel Deev's division, which included an artillery battery under the command of Lieutenant Drozdovsky, was, among many others, transferred to Stalingrad, where the main forces of the Soviet Army were concentrated. The battery included a platoon commanded by Lieutenant Kuznetsov. Drozdovsky and Kuznetsov graduated from one school in Aktobe. At the school, Drozdovsky "stood out for his underlined, as if innate bearing, with an imperious expression of a thin pale face - the best cadet in the division, the favorite of the military commanders." And now, after graduating from college, Drozdovsky became the closest commander of Kuznetsov.

Kuznetsov's platoon consisted of 12 people, among whom were Chibisov, the gunner of the first gun Nechaev and senior sergeant Ukhanov. Chibisov managed to be in German captivity. They looked askance at people like him, so Chibisov tried his best to serve. Kuznetsov believed that Chibisov should have committed suicide instead of surrendering, but Chibisov was over forty, and at that moment he was thinking only of his children.

Nechaev, a former sailor from Vladivostok, was an incorrigible womanizer and, on occasion, liked to look after the medical officer of the battery, Zoya Elagina.

Before the war, Sergeant Ukhanov served in the criminal investigation department, then graduated from the Aktobe military school together with Kuznetsov and Drozdovsky. Once Ukhanov was returning from AWOL through the toilet window, stumbled upon the battalion commander, who was sitting on the push and could not hold back his laughter. A scandal erupted, because of which Ukhanov was not given the officer's rank. For this reason, Drozdovsky treated Ukhanov with disdain. Kuznetsov, on the other hand, accepted the sergeant as an equal.

Medical instructor Zoya at every stop resorted to the carriages in which Drozdovsky's battery was located. Kuznetsov guessed that Zoya came only to see the battery commander.

At the last stop, Deev, the commander of the division, which included Drozdovsky's battery, arrived at the train. Next to Deyev, “leaning on a stick, walked a lean, slightly uneven gait, an unfamiliar general. It was the commander of the army, Lieutenant General Bessonov. " The general's eighteen-year-old son was missing on the Volkhov front, and now every time the general's gaze fell on a young lieutenant, he remembered his son.

At this stop, Deev's division unloaded from the echelon and moved on on horse-drawn traction. In Kuznetsov's platoon, the horses were driven by sleds Rubin and Sergunenkov. At sunset we made a short rest. Kuznetsov guessed that Stalingrad remained somewhere behind his back, but did not know that their division was moving "towards the German tank divisions that had launched an offensive in order to unblock Paulus's army of many thousands surrounded in the Stalingrad region."

The kitchens fell behind and got lost somewhere in the rear. People were hungry and instead of water they were collecting trampled, dirty snow from the roadside. Kuznetsov talked about this with Drozdovsky, but he sharply besieged him, saying that it was at the school that they were on an equal footing, and now he is the commander. "Every word of Drozdovsky raised such an unbreakable, dull resistance in Kuznetsov, as if what Drozdovsky did, said, ordered him to were a stubborn and calculated attempt to remind him of his power, to humiliate him." The army moved on, in every way scolding the elders who had disappeared somewhere.

While Manstein's tank divisions began to break through to the grouping of Colonel-General Paulus surrounded by our troops, the newly formed army, which included Deev's division, was thrown south on Stalin's orders to meet the German strike group Goth. This new army was commanded by General Pyotr Aleksandrovich Bessonov, a middle-aged introverted man. “He didn’t want to please everyone, didn’t want to seem pleasant for everyone to talk to. Such a petty game with the aim of winning sympathy has always sickened him. "

Recently, it seemed to the general that "the whole life of his son passed monstrously imperceptibly, slipped past him." All his life, moving from one military unit to another, Bessonov thought that he would still have time to rewrite his life completely, but in a hospital near Moscow he “for the first time had the thought that his life, the life of a military man, could probably only be in a single version, which he himself chose once and for all. " It was there that his last meeting with his son Victor, a freshly baked junior lieutenant in the infantry, took place. Bessonov's wife, Olga, asked him to take his son with him, but Victor refused, and Bessonov did not insist. Now he was tormented by the knowledge that he could save his only son, but he did not. "He felt more and more sharply that the fate of his son was becoming his father's cross."

Even during the reception at Stalin's, where Bessonov was invited before the new appointment, the question arose about his son. Stalin was well aware that Victor was part of the army of General Vlasov, and Bessonov himself was familiar with him. Nevertheless, Stalin approved the appointment of Bessonov as general of the new army.

From 24 to 29 November, the troops of the Don and Stalingrad fronts fought against the encircled German group. Hitler ordered Paulus to fight to the last soldier, then an order was received for Operation Winter Thunderstorm - breaking through the encirclement of the German army Don under the command of Field Marshal Manstein. On December 12, Colonel-General Goth struck at the junction of the two armies of the Stalingrad Front. By December 15, the Germans had advanced forty-five kilometers towards Stalingrad. The introduced reserves could not change the situation - German troops stubbornly fought their way to the encircled group of Paulus. The main task of Bessonov's army, reinforced by a tank corps, was to detain the Germans and then force them to retreat. The last frontier was the Myshkova River, after which a flat steppe stretched right up to Stalingrad itself.

At the command post of the army, located in a dilapidated village, an unpleasant conversation took place between General Bessonov and a member of the military council, divisional commissar Vitaly Isayevich Vesnin. Bessonov did not trust the commissioner, believed that he was sent to look after him because of a fleeting acquaintance with the traitor, General Vlasov.

In the middle of the night, Colonel Deev's division began to dig in on the banks of the Myshkova River. Lieutenant Kuznetsov's battery dug guns into the frozen ground on the very bank of the river, scolding the foreman, who had lagged behind the battery for a day along with the kitchen. Sitting down to rest a little, Lieutenant Kuznetsov recalled his native Zamoskvorechye. The lieutenant's father, an engineer, caught a cold while building in Magnitogorsk and died. Mother and sister remained at home.

Having dug in, Kuznetsov, together with Zoya, went to the command post to Drozdovsky. Kuznetsov looked at Zoya, and it seemed to him that he "saw her, Zoya, in a house comfortably heated for the night, at a table covered with a clean white tablecloth for the holiday," in his apartment on Pyatnitskaya.

The battery commander explained the military situation and said that he was dissatisfied with the friendship that arose between Kuznetsov and Ukhanov. Kuznetsov objected that Ukhanov could have been a good platoon leader if he had received the rank.

When Kuznetsov left, Zoya stayed with Drozdovsky. He spoke to her "in the jealous and at the same time demanding tone of a man who had the right to ask her like that." Drozdovsky was unhappy that Zoya visited Kuznetsov's platoon too often. He wanted to hide from everyone his relationship with her - he was afraid of gossip that would start walking around the battery and seep into the headquarters of a regiment or division. Zoya was bitter to think that Drozdovsky loved her so little.

Drozdovsky was from a family of hereditary military men. His father died in Spain, his mother died the same year. After the death of his parents, Drozdovsky did not go to an orphanage, but lived with distant relatives in Tashkent. He believed that his parents had betrayed him and was afraid that Zoya would betray him too. He demanded from Zoya proof of her love for him, but she could not cross the last line, and this angered Drozdovsky.

General Bessonov arrived at the Drozdovsky battery, awaiting the return of the scouts who had gone for the "language." The general understood that the turning point of the war had come. The testimony of the "tongue" was supposed to give the missing information about the reserves of the German army. The outcome of the Battle of Stalingrad depended on this.

The battle began with a Junkers raid, after which German tanks attacked. During the bombing, Kuznetsov remembered the gun sights - if they were broken, the battery would not be able to fire. The lieutenant wanted to send Ukhanov, but realized that he had no right and would never forgive himself if something happened to Ukhanov. Risking his life, Kuznetsov went to the guns together with Ukhanov and found there the sleds Rubin and Sergunenkov, with whom the seriously wounded scout lay.

Having sent a scout to the NP, Kuznetsov continued the battle. Soon he no longer saw anything around him, he commanded the weapon "in evil rapture, in a reckless and frantic unity with calculation." The lieutenant felt "this hatred of possible death, this fusion with a weapon, this fever of delusional fury, and only out of the corner of his mind understanding what he was doing."

Meanwhile, the German self-propelled gun hid behind two destroyed tanks by Kuznetsov and began to fire point-blank at the neighboring gun. Assessing the situation, Drozdovsky handed Sergunenkov two anti-tank grenades and ordered him to crawl to the self-propelled gun and destroy it. Young and frightened, Sergunenkov died without fulfilling the order. “He sent Sergunenkov, having the right to give orders. And I was a witness - and for the rest of my life I will curse myself for this, ”thought Kuznetsov.

By the end of the day, it became clear that the Russian troops could not withstand the onslaught of the German army. German tanks have already broken through to the northern bank of the Myshkova River. General Bessonov did not want to bring fresh troops into battle, fearing that the army would not have enough strength for a decisive blow. He ordered to fight to the last shell. Now Vesnin understood why there were rumors about Bessonov's cruelty.

Having moved to Deev's command post, Bessonov realized that it was here that the Germans sent the main blow. The scout, found by Kuznetsov, reported that two more people, along with the captured "tongue", were stuck somewhere in the German rear. Soon Bessonov was informed that the Germans had begun to surround the division.

The chief of the army's counterintelligence arrived from the headquarters. He showed Vesnin a German leaflet containing a photograph of Bessonov's son, and told how well the son of a famous Russian military leader was looked after in a German hospital. The headquarters wanted Bessnonov to stay permanently in the command post of the army, under supervision. Vesnin did not believe in the betrayal of Bessonov Jr., and decided not to show this leaflet to the general for now.

Bessonov brought the tank and mechanized corps into battle and asked Vesnin to go to meet and hurry them. Following the general's request, Vesnin died. General Bessonov never found out that his son was alive.

Ukhanov's only surviving gun fell silent late in the evening, when the shells obtained from other guns ran out. At this time, the tanks of Colonel General Goth crossed the Myshkova River. With the onset of darkness, the battle began to subside behind his back.

Now, for Kuznetsov, everything "was measured in different categories than a day ago." Ukhanov, Nechaev and Chibisov were barely alive from fatigue. “This is the only surviving weapon, and four of them were rewarded with a smiling fate, the occasional happiness to survive the day and evening of an endless battle, to live longer than others. But there was no joy in life. " They found themselves in the German rear.

Suddenly the Germans began to attack again. By the light of the rockets, they saw a human body a stone's throw from their firing area. Chibisov shot him, mistaking him for a German. It turned out to be one of those Russian intelligence officers whom General Bessonov had been waiting for. Two more scouts, together with the "tongue", hid in a crater near two knocked-out armored personnel carriers.

At this time, Drozdovsky appeared at the calculation, along with Rubin and Zoya. Without looking at Drozdovsky, Kuznetsov took Ukhanov, Rubin and Chibisov and went to the aid of the scout. Following Kuznetsov's group, Drozdovsky also linked up with two signalmen and Zoya.

A captured German and one of the scouts were found at the bottom of a large crater. Drozdovsky ordered to look for a second scout, despite the fact that, making his way to the crater, he attracted the attention of the Germans, and now the entire area was under machine-gun fire. Drozdovsky himself crawled back, taking with him the "tongue" and the surviving scout. On the way, his group came under fire, during which Zoya was seriously wounded in the stomach, and Drozdovsky was concussed.

When Zoya was brought to the check-in on an unfolded overcoat, she was already dead. Kuznetsov was like in a dream, "everything that kept him in unnatural tension for these days suddenly relaxed in him." Kuznetsov almost hated Drozdovsky for not saving Zoya. “He cried so lonely and desperately for the first time in his life. And when he wiped his face, the snow on the sleeve of the quilted jacket was hot from his tears. "

Already late in the evening, Bessonov realized that the Germans had not been able to push off the northern bank of the Myshkova River. By midnight, the fighting had stopped, and Bessonov wondered if this was due to the fact that the Germans had used all their reserves. Finally, a "tongue" was delivered to the command post, which reported that the Germans had indeed brought in reserves into battle. After interrogation, Bessonov was informed that Vesnin had died. Now Bessonov regretted that their relationship "through his fault, Bessonov, did not look what Vesnin wanted and what they should have been."

The front commander contacted Bessonov and said that four tank divisions were successfully entering the rear of the Don army. The general ordered an attack. Meanwhile, Bessonov's adjutant found a German leaflet among Vesnin's belongings, but did not dare to tell the general about it.

Forty minutes after the start of the attack, the battle reached a turning point. Following the battle, Bessonov could not believe his eyes when he saw that several guns had survived on the right bank. The corps brought into battle pushed the Germans back to the right bank, captured the crossings and began to surround the German troops.

After the battle, Bessonov decided to drive along the right bank, taking with him all the available awards. He awarded everyone who survived this terrible battle and the German encirclement. Bessonov "did not know how to cry, and the wind helped him, gave vent to tears of delight, sorrow and gratitude." The Order of the Red Banner was awarded to the entire crew of Lieutenant Kuznetsov. Ukhanov was hurt that Drozdovsky also received the order.

Kuznetsov, Ukhanov, Rubin and Nechaev sat and drank vodka with orders lowered into it, and the battle continued ahead.

Yuri Bondarev

HOT SNOW

Chapter one

Kuznetsov could not sleep. More and more it knocked, thundered on the roof of the carriage, the overlaps of the wind were blowing like a blizzard, the barely guessed window above the bunks was more and more densely packed with snow.

A steam locomotive with a wild roar tearing apart a blizzard drove the train in the night fields, in the white turbidity rushing from all sides, and in the thunderous darkness of the car, through the frozen screeching of wheels, through alarming sobs, muttering in a soldier's sleep, this roar was heard continuously warning someone locomotive, and it seemed to Kuznetsov that there, ahead, behind the blizzard, the glow of the burning city was already dimly visible.

After staying in Saratov, it became clear to everyone that the division was urgently being transferred to Stalingrad, and not to the Western Front, as was initially supposed; and now Kuznetsov knew that there were several hours to go. And, pulling the hard, unpleasantly wet collar of his overcoat on his cheek, he could not get warm, gain warmth in order to fall asleep: a piercing blow was blowing into the invisible cracks of the visible window, icy drafts walked along the bunks.

“So, I won't see my mother for a long time,” thought Kuznetsov, cringing from the cold, “they drove us by…”.

What was the past life - the summer months in a school in hot, dusty Aktyubinsk, with hot winds from the steppe, with the screams of donkeys choking in the sunset silence, so accurate in time every night that platoon commanders in tactical exercises, languishing with thirst , not without relief, were checking their watches against them, marches in the stupefying heat, sweaty tunics and whitewashed in the sun, the creak of sand on their teeth; Sunday patrol of the city, in the city garden, where in the evenings a military brass band played peacefully on the dance floor; then graduation to the school, loading on alarm on an autumn night into wagons, a gloomy forest in the wild snows, snowdrifts, dugouts of the formation camp near Tambov, then again on alarm at the frosty pinking December dawn, a hasty loading into the train and, finally, departure - all this unsteady , the temporary life controlled by someone has dimmed now, remained far behind, in the past. And there was no hope of seeing his mother, and quite recently he had almost no doubt that they would be taken west through Moscow.

“I’ll write to her,” Kuznetsov thought with a sudden heightened sense of loneliness, “and I’ll explain everything. After all, we have not seen each other for nine months ... ".

And the whole carriage was asleep under the screeching, screeching, under the cast-iron rumble of scattered wheels, the walls swayed tightly, the upper bunks were shaking at the furious speed of the train, and Kuznetsov, shuddering, finally vegetating in the drafts near the window, unfolded his collar, looked enviously at the commander of the second platoon sleeping next to him Lieutenant Davlatyan - his face was not visible in the darkness of the bunk.

“No, here, near the window, I will not sleep, I will freeze to the front line,” Kuznetsov thought with annoyance at himself and moved, stirred, hearing the frost crunching on the boards of the carriage.

He freed himself from the cold, prickly tightness of his seat, jumped off the bunk, feeling that he needed to warm up by the stove: his back was completely numb.

In the iron stove on the side of the closed door, shimmering with thick frost, the fire had long since extinguished, only the air was blowing red with a motionless pupil. But it seemed a little warmer down here. In the gloom of the carriage, this crimson glow of coal faintly illuminated the new felt boots, bowlers, and duffel bags under their heads, variously sticking out in the aisle. The orderly Chibisov slept uncomfortably on the lower bunk, right on the soldiers' feet; his head to the top of his cap was hidden in a collar, his hands were tucked into his sleeves.

Chibisov! - called Kuznetsov and opened the door of the stove, which breathed from the inside with a barely perceptible warmth. - Everything went out, Chibisov!

There was no answer.

Daytime, do you hear?

Chibisov threw himself up in fright, sleepy, rumpled, a cap with earflaps pulled down low, tied with ribbons at his chin. Not yet awakening from sleep, he tried to push the earflaps from his forehead, to untie the ribbons, crying out in confusion and timidly:

What am I? Did you fall asleep? Rovno stunned me with unconsciousness. I apologize, Comrade Lieutenant! Wow, it got me to the bone in a nap! ..

We fell asleep and the whole carriage was cooled down, ”Kuznetsov said reproachfully.

Yes, I didn’t want to, Comrade Lieutenant, by chance, without intent, ”Chibisov muttered. - It knocked me down ...

Then, without waiting for orders from Kuznetsov, he fussed with excessive vigor, grabbed a board from the floor, broke it on his knee and began to push the debris into the stove. At the same time, stupidly, as if his sides were itching, he moved his elbows and shoulders, often bending down, busily peering into the blower, where the fire crawled in lazy reflections; the revived face of Chibisov, stained with soot, expressed a conspiratorial servility.

Now, comrade lieutenant, I’ll catch up warmly! Let's get hot, it will be exactly in the bathhouse. I'll cuff myself for the war! Oh, how cold, every bone aches - no words! ..

Kuznetsov sat down opposite the open stove door. He disliked the exaggeratedly deliberate fussiness of the orderly, this clear allusion to his past. Chibisov was from his platoon. And the fact that he, with his immoderate diligence, always trouble-free, lived for several months in German captivity, and from the first day of his appearance in the platoon was constantly ready to serve everyone, aroused watchful pity for him.

Chibisov softly, like a woman, sank down on the bunk, his unspent eyes blinking.

So we're going to Stalingrad, Comrade Lieutenant? According to the reports, what a meat grinder is there! Aren't you scared, Comrade Lieutenant? Nothing?

We will come - we will see what kind of meat grinder, - Kuznetsov sluggishly responded, peering into the fire. - Are you afraid? Why did you ask?

Yes, we can say that there is no fear that it used to be, ”Chibisov replied with a fake cheerfulness and, sighing, put his small hands on his knees, spoke in a confidential tone, as if wishing to convince Kuznetsov:“ After that, as ours freed me from captivity , they believed me, Comrade Lieutenant. And I spent three whole months, exactly a puppy in shit, sat with the Germans. They believed it ... It's a huge war, different people are fighting. How can you immediately believe something? - Chibisov squinted cautiously at Kuznetsov; he was silent, pretending to be busy with the stove, warming himself with its living warmth: with concentration he squeezed and unclenched his fingers over the open door. - Do you know how I was taken prisoner, Comrade Lieutenant? .. I didn’t tell you, but I want to tell you. The Germans drove us into the ravine. Near Vyazma. And when their tanks came close, surrounded, and we have no more shells, the commissar of the regiment jumped to the top of his "emka" with a pistol, shouting: "Better death than being captured by fascist bastards!" - and shot himself in the temple. It even spurted from my head. And the Germans are running towards us from all sides. Their tanks are strangling people alive. Here and ... the colonel and someone else ...

And what's next? - asked Kuznetsov.

I couldn't shoot myself. They bunched us together, yelling "Hyundai hoh". And they led ...

I understand, ”Kuznetsov said with that serious intonation that clearly said that in Chibisov’s place he would have acted completely differently. - So, Chibisov, they shouted "Hyundai hoh" - and you surrendered your weapons? Did you have a weapon?

Chibisov answered, timidly defending himself with a strained half-smile:

You are very young, comrade lieutenant, you have no children, you have no family, one might say. Parents I suppose ...

What do children have to do with it? - said Kuznetsov with embarrassment, noticing a quiet, guilty expression on Chibisov's face, and added: - It doesn't matter.

Why not, Comrade Lieutenant?

Well, maybe I didn’t put it that way ... Of course, I have no children.

Chibisov was twenty years older than him - "father", "father", the oldest in the platoon. He was completely subordinate to Kuznetsov on duty, but Kuznetsov, now constantly remembering the two lieutenant cubes in his buttonholes, immediately burdened him after school with a new responsibility, nevertheless felt uncertainty every time when talking with Chibisov, who had lived his life.

Are you awake, lieutenant, or are you dreaming? Is the stove on? came a sleepy voice overhead.

There was a fuss on the upper bunks, then senior sergeant Ukhanov, the commander of the first gun from Kuznetsov's platoon, jumped down to the stove heavily, like a bear.

Chapter one

Kuznetsov could not sleep. More and more it knocked, thundered on the roof of the carriage, the overlaps of the wind were blowing like a blizzard, the barely guessed window above the bunks was more and more densely packed with snow.
A steam locomotive with a wild roar tearing apart a blizzard drove the train in the night fields, in the white turbidity rushing from all sides, and in the thunderous darkness of the car, through the frozen screeching of wheels, through alarming sobs, muttering in a soldier's sleep, this roar was heard continuously warning someone locomotive, and it seemed to Kuznetsov that there, ahead, behind the blizzard, the glow of the burning city was already dimly visible.
After staying in Saratov, it became clear to everyone that the division was urgently being transferred to Stalingrad, and not to the Western Front, as was initially supposed; and now Kuznetsov knew that there were several hours to go. And, pulling the hard, unpleasantly wet collar of his greatcoat on his cheek, he could not get warm, gain warmth in order to fall asleep: a piercing blow was blowing into the invisible cracks of the noticeable window, icy drafts walked along the bunks.
“So, I won't see my mother for a long time,” thought Kuznetsov, cringing from the cold, “they drove us by…”.
What was the past life - the summer months in a school in hot, dusty Aktyubinsk, with hot winds from the steppe, with the screams of donkeys choking in the sunset silence, so accurate in time every night that platoon commanders in tactical exercises, languishing with thirst , not without relief, were checking their watches against them, marches in the stupefying heat, sweaty tunics and whitewashed in the sun, the creak of sand on their teeth; Sunday patrol of the city, in the city garden, where in the evenings a military brass band played peacefully on the dance floor; then graduation to the school, loading on alarm on an autumn night into wagons, a gloomy forest in the wild snows, snowdrifts, dugouts of the formation camp near Tambov, then again on alarm at the frosty pinking December dawn, a hasty loading into the train and, finally, departure - all this unsteady , the temporary life controlled by someone has dimmed now, remained far behind, in the past. And there was no hope of seeing his mother, and quite recently he had almost no doubt that they would be taken west through Moscow.
“I’ll write to her,” Kuznetsov thought with a sudden heightened sense of loneliness, “and I’ll explain everything. After all, we have not seen each other for nine months ... ".
And the whole carriage was asleep under the screeching, screeching, under the cast-iron rumble of scattered wheels, the walls swayed tightly, the upper bunks were shaking at the furious speed of the train, and Kuznetsov, shuddering, finally vegetating in the drafts near the window, unfolded his collar, looked enviously at the commander of the second platoon sleeping next to him Lieutenant Davlatyan - his face was not visible in the darkness of the bunk.
“No, here, near the window, I will not sleep, I will freeze to the front line,” Kuznetsov thought with annoyance at himself and moved, stirred, hearing the frost crunching on the boards of the carriage.
He freed himself from the cold, prickly tightness of his seat, jumped off the bunk, feeling that he needed to warm up by the stove: his back was completely numb.
In the iron stove on the side of the closed door, shimmering with thick frost, the fire had long since extinguished, only the air was blowing red with a motionless pupil. But it seemed a little warmer down here. In the gloom of the carriage, this crimson glow of coal faintly illuminated the new felt boots, bowlers, and duffel bags under their heads, variously sticking out in the aisle. The orderly Chibisov slept uncomfortably on the lower bunk, right on the soldiers' feet; his head to the top of his cap was hidden in a collar, his hands were tucked into his sleeves.
- Chibisov! - called Kuznetsov and opened the door of the stove, which breathed from the inside with a barely perceptible warmth. - Everything went out, Chibisov!
There was no answer.
- Daily, do you hear?
Chibisov threw himself up in fright, sleepy, rumpled, a cap with earflaps pulled down low, tied with ribbons at his chin. Not yet awakening from sleep, he tried to push the earflaps from his forehead, to untie the ribbons, crying out in confusion and timidly:
- What am I? Did you fall asleep? Rovno stunned me with unconsciousness. I apologize, Comrade Lieutenant! Wow, it got me to the bone in a nap! ..
“We fell asleep and the whole carriage was cooled,” said Kuznetsov reproachfully.
“Yes, I didn’t want to, Comrade Lieutenant, by chance, without intent,” Chibisov muttered. - It knocked me down ...
Then, without waiting for orders from Kuznetsov, he fussed with excessive vigor, grabbed a board from the floor, broke it on his knee and began to push the debris into the stove. At the same time, stupidly, as if his sides were itching, he moved his elbows and shoulders, often bending down, busily peering into the blower, where the fire crawled in lazy reflections; the revived face of Chibisov, stained with soot, expressed a conspiratorial servility.
- I now, comrade lieutenant, will catch up warmly! Let's get hot, it will be exactly in the bathhouse. I'll cuff myself for the war! Oh, how cold, every bone aches - no words! ..
Kuznetsov sat down opposite the open stove door. He disliked the exaggeratedly deliberate fussiness of the orderly, this clear allusion to his past. Chibisov was from his platoon. And the fact that he, with his immoderate diligence, always trouble-free, lived for several months in German captivity, and from the first day of his appearance in the platoon was constantly ready to serve everyone, aroused watchful pity for him.
Chibisov softly, like a woman, sank down on the bunk, his unspent eyes blinking.
- So we are going to Stalingrad, Comrade Lieutenant? According to the reports, what a meat grinder is there! Aren't you scared, Comrade Lieutenant? Nothing?
“We’ll come and see what kind of meat grinder it is,” Kuznetsov replied sluggishly, peering into the fire. - Are you afraid? Why did you ask?
`` Yes, you can say that fear does not exist that before, '' Chibisov replied in a false cheerful manner, and, sighing, put his little hands on his knees, spoke in a confidential tone, as if wishing to convince Kuznetsov: released, they believed me, Comrade Lieutenant. And I spent three whole months, exactly a puppy in shit, sat with the Germans. They believed it ... It's a huge war, different people are fighting. How can you immediately believe something? - Chibisov squinted cautiously at Kuznetsov; he was silent, pretending to be busy with the stove, warming himself with its living warmth: with concentration he squeezed and unclenched his fingers over the open door. - Do you know how I was taken prisoner, Comrade Lieutenant? .. I didn’t tell you, but I want to tell you. The Germans drove us into the ravine. Near Vyazma. And when their tanks came close, surrounded, and we have no more shells, the commissar of the regiment jumped to the top of his "emka" with a pistol, shouting: "Better death than being captured by fascist bastards!" - and shot himself in the temple. It even spurted from my head. And the Germans are running towards us from all sides. Their tanks are strangling people alive. Here and ... the colonel and someone else ...
- And what's next? - asked Kuznetsov.
- I couldn't shoot myself. They bunched us together, yelling "Hyundai hoh". And they led ...
“I see,” Kuznetsov said with that serious intonation that clearly said that in Chibisov’s place he would have acted completely differently. - So, Chibisov, they shouted "Hyundai hoh" - and you surrendered your weapons? Did you have a weapon?
Chibisov answered, timidly defending himself with a strained half-smile:
- You are very young, comrade lieutenant, you have no children, you have no family, one might say. Parents I suppose ...
- What do the children have to do with it? - said Kuznetsov with embarrassment, noticing a quiet, guilty expression on Chibisov's face, and added: - It doesn't matter.
- How does it not, Comrade Lieutenant?
- Well, maybe I didn’t put it that way ... Of course, I have no children.
Chibisov was twenty years older than him - "father", "father", the oldest in the platoon. He was completely subordinate to Kuznetsov on duty, but Kuznetsov, now constantly remembering the two lieutenant cubes in his buttonholes, immediately burdened him after school with a new responsibility, nevertheless felt uncertainty every time when talking with Chibisov, who had lived his life.
“Are you awake, lieutenant, or are you dreaming? Is the stove on? came a sleepy voice overhead.
There was a fuss on the upper bunks, then senior sergeant Ukhanov, the commander of the first gun from Kuznetsov's platoon, jumped down to the stove heavily, like a bear.
- Frozen like a tsutsik! Are you getting warm, Slavs? Ukhanov asked with a drawn-out yawn. - Or are you telling fairy tales?
Shuddering his heavy shoulders, throwing back the floor of his greatcoat, he walked to the door along the swaying floor. With force he pushed aside the clattering bulky door with one hand, leaned against the crack, looking into the blizzard. Snow swirled like a blizzard in the carriage, cold air blew, the ferry swept along my legs; along with the roar, the frosty squealing of the wheels, the wild, menacing roar of a steam locomotive burst in.
- Eh, and a wolf's night - no fire, no Stalingrad! - Shrugging his shoulders, uttered Ukhanov and with a bang slid the door upholstered in the corners with iron.
Then, tapping with his boots, grunting loudly and in surprise, he walked over to the already glowing stove; his mocking, bright eyes were still drowsy, the snowflakes gleamed white on his eyebrows. He sat down next to Kuznetsov, rubbed his hands, took out a pouch and, remembering something, laughed, flashed his front steel tooth.
- I dreamed of grub again. Either I slept, or I didn’t: as if some city was empty, and I was alone ... I entered some bombed-out store - bread, canned food, wine, sausage on the shelves ... So, I think, now I’m going to cut it! But he froze like a tramp under a net and woke up. It's a shame ... The whole store! Imagine, Chibisov!
He turned not to Kuznetsov, but to Chibisov, clearly hinting that the lieutenant was not like the others.
“I don’t argue with your dream, Comrade Senior Sergeant,” replied Chibisov, and breathed in the warm air through his nostrils, as if the aromatic smell of bread was coming from the stove, meekly looking at the Ukhanovsky pouch. - And if you don't smoke at all at night, the savings are back. Ten shortcuts.
- O-you are a huge diplomat, dad! - said Ukhanov, thrusting the pouch into his hands. - Roll up even as thick as a fist. Why the devil save? Meaning? - He lit a cigarette and, exhaling smoke, poked a board in the fire. - And I'm sure, brothers, it will be better with food on the front line. And the trophies will go! Where there are Fritzes, there are trophies, and then, Chibisov, the whole collective farm will not have to sweep the lieutenant's rations. - He blew on the cigarette, narrowed his eyes: - How, Kuznetsov, the duties of a father-commander are not heavy, eh? It's easier for the soldiers - answer for yourself. Do you regret that there are too many gavrikov on your neck?
“I don’t understand, Ukhanov, why weren’t you awarded the title?” - said Kuznetsov, somewhat offended by his mocking tone. - Can you explain?
Together with senior sergeant Ukhanov, he graduated from the military artillery school, but for some unknown reason, Ukhanov was not allowed to take the exams, and he arrived in the regiment with the rank of senior sergeant, was enrolled in the first platoon as a gun commander, which extremely embarrassed Kuznetsov.
“I've dreamed all my life,” Ukhanov chuckled good-naturedly. - I got it in the wrong direction, Lieutenant ... Okay, take a nap for about six hundred minutes. Maybe the store will be dreaming again? A? Well, brothers, if anything, consider not returning from the attack ...
Ukhanov threw his cigarette butt into the stove, stretched himself, getting up, heading to the bunks, jumping heavily onto the rustling straw; pushing aside the sleeping, he said: "Come on, brothers, free up living space." And soon he was quiet upstairs.
“You should go to bed too, Comrade Lieutenant,” Chibisov advised with a sigh. - The night is short, you see, it will be. Don't worry, for - for God's sake.
Kuznetsov, with his face flaming in the heat of the stove, also stood up, adjusted the pistol holster with a practiced marching gesture, and said to Chibisov in an ordering tone:
- They would perform better the duties of the orderly! “But, having said this, Kuznetsov noticed Chibisov’s timid, dazed gaze, felt the unjustification of the commanding harshness - he had been accustomed to the command tone for six months at the school - and suddenly recovered in an undertone:
- Just so that the stove does not go out, please. Do you hear?
- Yasnenko, comrade lieutenant. Do not hesitate, you might say. Restful sleep ...
Kuznetsov climbed onto his bunk, into the darkness, unheated, icy, creaking, trembling from the frantic running of the train, and here he felt that he would freeze again in the draft. And from different ends of the carriage came snoring, sniffing of soldiers. Slightly pressing Lieutenant Davlatyan sleeping next to him, sobbing sleepily, smacking his lips like a child, Kuznetsov, breathing into the raised collar, pressing his cheek to the wet, prickly pile, shrinking chilly, touched his knees with large, like salt, frost on the wall - and this made colder.
Caked straw slid under him with a damp rustle. The frozen walls smelled iron-like, and everything smelled and smelled in the face as a thin and sharp stream of cold from the gray window overhead blocked by blizzard snow.
And the steam locomotive, with an insistent and menacing roar tearing the night apart, rushed the echelon non-stop in the impenetrable fields - closer and closer to the front.

Yuri Bondarev

HOT SNOW

Chapter one

Kuznetsov could not sleep. More and more it knocked, thundered on the roof of the carriage, the overlaps of the wind were blowing like a blizzard, the barely guessed window above the bunks was more and more densely packed with snow.

A steam locomotive with a wild roar tearing apart a blizzard drove the train in the night fields, in the white turbidity rushing from all sides, and in the thunderous darkness of the car, through the frozen screeching of wheels, through alarming sobs, muttering in a soldier's sleep, this roar was heard continuously warning someone locomotive, and it seemed to Kuznetsov that there, ahead, behind the blizzard, the glow of the burning city was already dimly visible.

After staying in Saratov, it became clear to everyone that the division was urgently being transferred to Stalingrad, and not to the Western Front, as was initially supposed; and now Kuznetsov knew that there were several hours to go. And, pulling the hard, unpleasantly wet collar of his overcoat on his cheek, he could not get warm, gain warmth in order to fall asleep: a piercing blow was blowing into the invisible cracks of the visible window, icy drafts walked along the bunks.

“So, I won't see my mother for a long time,” thought Kuznetsov, cringing from the cold, “they drove us by…”.

What was the past life - the summer months in a school in hot, dusty Aktyubinsk, with hot winds from the steppe, with the screams of donkeys choking in the sunset silence, so accurate in time every night that platoon commanders in tactical exercises, languishing with thirst , not without relief, were checking their watches against them, marches in the stupefying heat, sweaty tunics and whitewashed in the sun, the creak of sand on their teeth; Sunday patrol of the city, in the city garden, where in the evenings a military brass band played peacefully on the dance floor; then graduation to the school, loading on alarm on an autumn night into wagons, a gloomy forest in the wild snows, snowdrifts, dugouts of the formation camp near Tambov, then again on alarm at the frosty pinking December dawn, a hasty loading into the train and, finally, departure - all this unsteady , the temporary life controlled by someone has dimmed now, remained far behind, in the past. And there was no hope of seeing his mother, and quite recently he had almost no doubt that they would be taken west through Moscow.

“I’ll write to her,” Kuznetsov thought with a sudden heightened sense of loneliness, “and I’ll explain everything. After all, we have not seen each other for nine months ... ".

And the whole carriage was asleep under the screeching, screeching, under the cast-iron rumble of scattered wheels, the walls swayed tightly, the upper bunks were shaking at the furious speed of the train, and Kuznetsov, shuddering, finally vegetating in the drafts near the window, unfolded his collar, looked enviously at the commander of the second platoon sleeping next to him Lieutenant Davlatyan - his face was not visible in the darkness of the bunk.

“No, here, near the window, I will not sleep, I will freeze to the front line,” Kuznetsov thought with annoyance at himself and moved, stirred, hearing the frost crunching on the boards of the carriage.

He freed himself from the cold, prickly tightness of his seat, jumped off the bunk, feeling that he needed to warm up by the stove: his back was completely numb.

In the iron stove on the side of the closed door, shimmering with thick frost, the fire had long since extinguished, only the air was blowing red with a motionless pupil. But it seemed a little warmer down here. In the gloom of the carriage, this crimson glow of coal faintly illuminated the new felt boots, bowlers, and duffel bags under their heads, variously sticking out in the aisle. The orderly Chibisov slept uncomfortably on the lower bunk, right on the soldiers' feet; his head to the top of his cap was hidden in a collar, his hands were tucked into his sleeves.

Chibisov! - called Kuznetsov and opened the door of the stove, which breathed from the inside with a barely perceptible warmth. - Everything went out, Chibisov!

There was no answer.

Daytime, do you hear?

Chibisov threw himself up in fright, sleepy, rumpled, a cap with earflaps pulled down low, tied with ribbons at his chin. Not yet awakening from sleep, he tried to push the earflaps from his forehead, to untie the ribbons, crying out in confusion and timidly:

What am I? Did you fall asleep? Rovno stunned me with unconsciousness. I apologize, Comrade Lieutenant! Wow, it got me to the bone in a nap! ..

We fell asleep and the whole carriage was cooled down, ”Kuznetsov said reproachfully.

Yes, I didn’t want to, Comrade Lieutenant, by chance, without intent, ”Chibisov muttered. - It knocked me down ...

Then, without waiting for orders from Kuznetsov, he fussed with excessive vigor, grabbed a board from the floor, broke it on his knee and began to push the debris into the stove. At the same time, stupidly, as if his sides were itching, he moved his elbows and shoulders, often bending down, busily peering into the blower, where the fire crawled in lazy reflections; the revived face of Chibisov, stained with soot, expressed a conspiratorial servility.

Now, comrade lieutenant, I’ll catch up warmly! Let's get hot, it will be exactly in the bathhouse. I'll cuff myself for the war! Oh, how cold, every bone aches - no words! ..

Kuznetsov sat down opposite the open stove door. He disliked the exaggeratedly deliberate fussiness of the orderly, this clear allusion to his past. Chibisov was from his platoon. And the fact that he, with his immoderate diligence, always trouble-free, lived for several months in German captivity, and from the first day of his appearance in the platoon was constantly ready to serve everyone, aroused watchful pity for him.

Chibisov softly, like a woman, sank down on the bunk, his unspent eyes blinking.

So we're going to Stalingrad, Comrade Lieutenant? According to the reports, what a meat grinder is there! Aren't you scared, Comrade Lieutenant? Nothing?

We will come - we will see what kind of meat grinder, - Kuznetsov sluggishly responded, peering into the fire. - Are you afraid? Why did you ask?

Yes, we can say that there is no fear that it used to be, ”Chibisov replied with a fake cheerfulness and, sighing, put his small hands on his knees, spoke in a confidential tone, as if wishing to convince Kuznetsov:“ After that, as ours freed me from captivity , they believed me, Comrade Lieutenant. And I spent three whole months, exactly a puppy in shit, sat with the Germans. They believed it ... It's a huge war, different people are fighting. How can you immediately believe something? - Chibisov squinted cautiously at Kuznetsov; he was silent, pretending to be busy with the stove, warming himself with its living warmth: with concentration he squeezed and unclenched his fingers over the open door. - Do you know how I was taken prisoner, Comrade Lieutenant? .. I didn’t tell you, but I want to tell you. The Germans drove us into the ravine. Near Vyazma. And when their tanks came close, surrounded, and we have no more shells, the commissar of the regiment jumped to the top of his "emka" with a pistol, shouting: "Better death than being captured by fascist bastards!" - and shot himself in the temple. It even spurted from my head. And the Germans are running towards us from all sides. Their tanks are strangling people alive. Here and ... the colonel and someone else ...

And what's next? - asked Kuznetsov.

I couldn't shoot myself. They bunched us together, yelling "Hyundai hoh". And they led ...

I understand, ”Kuznetsov said with that serious intonation that clearly said that in Chibisov’s place he would have acted completely differently. - So, Chibisov, they shouted "Hyundai hoh" - and you surrendered your weapons? Did you have a weapon?

Chibisov answered, timidly defending himself with a strained half-smile:

You are very young, comrade lieutenant, you have no children, you have no family, one might say. Parents I suppose ...

What do children have to do with it? - said Kuznetsov with embarrassment, noticing a quiet, guilty expression on Chibisov's face, and added: - It doesn't matter.

Why not, Comrade Lieutenant?

Well, maybe I didn’t put it that way ... Of course, I have no children.

Chibisov was twenty years older than him - "father", "father", the oldest in the platoon. He was completely subordinate to Kuznetsov on duty, but Kuznetsov, now constantly remembering the two lieutenant cubes in his buttonholes, immediately burdened him after school with a new responsibility, nevertheless felt uncertainty every time when talking with Chibisov, who had lived his life.

Are you awake, lieutenant, or are you dreaming? Is the stove on? came a sleepy voice overhead.

There was a fuss on the upper bunks, then senior sergeant Ukhanov, the commander of the first gun from Kuznetsov's platoon, jumped down to the stove heavily, like a bear.

Frozen like a tsutsik! Are you getting warm, Slavs? Ukhanov asked with a drawn-out yawn. - Or are you telling fairy tales?

Shuddering his heavy shoulders, throwing back the floor of his greatcoat, he walked to the door along the swaying floor. With force he pushed aside the clattering bulky door with one hand, leaned against the crack, looking into the blizzard. Snow swirled like a blizzard in the carriage, cold air blew, the ferry swept along my legs; along with the roar, the frosty squealing of the wheels, the wild, menacing roar of a steam locomotive burst in.

Oh, and a wolf's night - no fire, no Stalingrad! - Shrugging his shoulders, uttered Ukhanov and with a bang slid the door upholstered in the corners with iron.

Then, tapping with his boots, grunting loudly and in surprise, he walked over to the already glowing stove; his mocking, bright eyes were still drowsy, the snowflakes gleamed white on his eyebrows. He sat down next to Kuznetsov, rubbed his hands, took out a pouch and, remembering something, laughed, flashed his front steel tooth.