Samizdat poselyagin tankist read online. Vladimir Poselyagin - I am a tanker. Why reading books online is convenient

If the soul is drawn to defending the country, then maybe it doesn't matter what world your country is in? This sounds a little strange, but not for the plot of a military science fiction novel, to which Vladimir Poselyagin's book "I am a tanker" can be attributed. There is some historical fact in the book, but for the most part it is a fantasy novel with a lot of fiction. The adventures of the protagonist are captivating, you worry about him as if he is a living person, and everything happens in reality. The novel gives you the opportunity to relax and immerse yourself in another world, where everything is possible, where you can believe in luck and rejoice in success, where you feel that your actions benefit other people and your native country.

Tolya Suvorov planned to move to another world, and he moved. But just not exactly where I wanted to go. Getting out of the swamp, he immediately noticed that something was wrong. It seems that the terrain is the same, but some details that should be here are missing. And also World War II, but still everything is different. However, peaceful people live here, who do not want to die in the war. There are patriots here, and there are traitors. We will have to change our plans, but this is not so important, the main thing is that Anatoly will do everything to help this country win.

The work was published in 2016 by AST. The book is part of the Military Fiction (AST) series. On our website you can download the book "I am a tanker" in fb2, rtf, epub, pdf, txt format or read online. The rating of the book is 3.75 out of 5. Here, before reading, you can also refer to the reviews of readers who are already familiar with the book and find out their opinion. In the online store of our partner you can buy and read the book in paper form.

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* * *

Prologue

Vyacheslav Suvorov stood on the pontoon and looked at the already quiet surface of the swamp. A few months ago, it was decided that all the remaining hitmen in this world would return, all except Vyacheslav. Someone had things to do, someone had plans, but six out of seven left. The same Tolik Suvorov, by chance the namesake of Vyacheslav, they even had the same patronymic, was going to return soon, he only wanted to visit his grandmother, the only native person. As it turned out, the portal works only in the presence of all seven next to him, and when his father, uncles and friends plunged under his gaze, something incomprehensible happened. Suddenly, a meter-high wave went from the portal in all directions, rocking the pontoons and boats. Vyacheslav looked at the swamp and did not yet know that he would never see his father, uncles and friends again. The transition was one-way - and there will be no return.

* * *

Coughing up from the water interspersed with mud that got into my throat and nose, I surfaced on the surface of the swamp and swayed on a large wave. It's strange, I don't remember that it was there during the last transition. I raised my glasses to my forehead and looked around in surprise, continuing to shudder in fits of coughing, but already residual. Small waves still rocked me, but they soon stopped, the swamp is not clear water, there is no long excitement here, which means that its appearance is connected with me. The inspection pretty surprised me, the transition clearly took place, but I did not return to my native world, to the swamps of the Bryansk region. Rather, I was in the border regions of Belarus, but not in my native world, and this was surprising. All around was actually the same landscape that I saw a few minutes ago, but without a platform with scientists from the Union, and in general there was a desert area around. Swamp. That is, the area, as in the forty-seventh year, but obviously without everything that I saw. Strange. Although no, the landscape was more reminiscent of the forty-fourth, when we moved here with the Suvorov family, the view was the same, but by the forty-seventh, after heated battles, there was a tear on the edge of the fallen plane, but now it was gone. Only this sign made it clear that something had gone wrong. But what?

To be honest, I didn't have time to think about what happened. At this time, aircraft engines hummed in the sky. Raising my head, I thoughtfully looked at the trio of donkeys. These machines were very familiar to me, I have seen them in action more than once. Good devices, as my famous namesake, three times Hero of the Soviet Union Vyacheslav Suvorov, said more than once. In skillful and experienced hands, these machines could unpleasantly surprise the Germans. They are very nimble. Almost on the spot they could turn around in the opposite direction, the “Messers” never dreamed of such a thing.

When the donkeys left, I got to the nearest bump and thought. I didn’t like the situation, I’m not at home, but not in my home world either. Accordingly, this is the third world. And what is strange, after I appeared here, a flight of fighters flew over me. Just like in the description of Seva about how he got into the forty-first. Planes, a whole forest, no platform for scientists - a strange coincidence, isn't it?

Crossing my legs, I reached for my right foot and, feeling for the strap, unfastened it and pulled the strap out of the water along with the piece of rope. This gadget was from my home world. Seva's relatives, preparing for the transition, thought about how they would return, taking into account the fact that this might not happen empty-handed. That is, a rope was tied to my leg, like that of other world travelers, and a bag with zero buoyancy was attached to it, so that it would be drowned. After the transition, a compressed air cylinder should have worked on the bag, the balloons would have inflated, and the bag should have floated next to me. But during the transition, the rope was cut twenty centimeters from my heel. I even cringed, imagining that my legs could be cut off. The bag itself was lost, like other travelers. I was alone in this world unknown to me, and even completely empty. Do not consider as property a scuba diver's wetsuit, and without fins, a belt with a load and goggles? I had a knife on my belt, my only value, that's all, I didn't have any more property. It was all in the bag that was missing. The halyard was only two meters long, but that was enough for the unknown director to cut off the valuable cargo. I had the same balloon on my belt, but it did not have time to work, I was thrown to the surface earlier, this is also strange.

Grieving about the bag - part of the cargo, about a third, belonged to me, the rest to the Suvorovs - I pushed off the bump and slid on my belly to the place where I surfaced. A dozen attempts have shown that the transition does not work, and others have not surfaced. Failure. Therefore, without hesitation, he pushed off the snag and slid to the bump, then to the next one. A swamp viper darted away from her, but I managed to intercept it and, having cut off its head, quickly skinned it. And why Seva was so afraid of them, meat is like meat, very tasty. The forest could be seen about two hundred and fifty meters away, I'll get there, there will be something to eat. You need to immediately take care of food, a hungry soldier is a bad soldier, albeit an evil one.

I remember Seva said that he traveled to the forest for several hours, almost all daylight hours. I was surprised then, like the distance was small, why so long? Now I understand why. Three times I came across an impenetrable swamp, I think it was the same one, it just crossed my path obliquely. But finally, I went around it and, having reached the shore, got out on land. It took me eight, not eight, but five and a half hours to overcome the swamp. Too many, trust me.

I sat down on a hummock to rest and began to survey the swamp thoughtfully, wondering whether to leave the wetsuit here or walk in it. Walking through the woods in a tight rubber suit that restricts movement, in my opinion, is reckless. However, under it I had nothing, not even underwear, and walking naked through the forest is a very bad idea, so there is no choice left, we are like what we have. There was no snake left, on the way through the swamp I ate a little raw meat, I threw out the rest, I need to keep myself in shape. As a child, at my grandmother's in the village, a huntsman neighbor taught me to walk through the forest, survive in it, and also get food. He also taught me to eat raw meat, explaining what is possible and what is not worth it, and what proportions. That is why I did not eat the whole snake, too much is also bad.

Having drowned the air cylinders, I didn’t need any extra cargo, I returned to the shore, sat down on a bunch of cut grass and again looked thoughtfully at the sun standing at its zenith. Before dark, four hours, there is still time. If I hit forty-one, and perhaps it is, then it’s worth moving away from the coast and looking for a clearing. If my guesses are correct, then two Poles with a horse and a cart should appear there in the morning. If so, then it will become clear what to do next, but for now everything is uncertain.

Honestly, the situation in which I found myself, not to say that I liked it. I have not yet decided how to react to what happened, but there was regret. I thought with regret about other travelers, how they were there, but most importantly, about my only close person - my grandmother. It was because of her that I decided to briefly return to my home world in order to say goodbye to her forever. I liked the world of the Soviet Union, so I was going to return there. Everything in it suited me, and I wanted to help the state get on a peaceful track. Yes, I am not a civilian specialist, but rather a military one, I work in Kubinka as an inspector, a full-time specialist in one secret design bureau, and I am additionally studying to be a design engineer, I have already switched to distance learning in my third year. Specialization is the same - tanks. That is why this situation upset me: I didn’t see my grandmother and lost the world, where I took a good place and was in good standing with the head of state, I had to meet Comrade Stalin more than once as an expert on modern armored vehicles. In general, sadness from all sides. Consider, even a two-room comfortable apartment, received in the city center, lost. I really liked it, and although I didn’t have my own personal vehicle - except for a bicycle bought for a salary and a company car - I still liked it terribly there. For the villagers, and I’m still more of a villager, although I lived with my parents before their death in Bryansk, living in the Union is somehow easier than for city dwellers. We are more unpretentious and not so exacting.

"Okay," I spat and got to my feet. - It's still unclear. If it is confirmed with the Poles, I will think about what to do next. And until the situation is clarified, I will not make plans. I don't see the point.

Mechanically brushing aside the midges, I moved away from the shore, took out a blade from its scabbard, examined it - excellent steel - and, returning it to its place, ran deep into the forest. Naturally, I won’t be able to follow exactly the tracks that Seva followed, and indeed, if this is the forty-first, will we meet? Or is this quest for one? If so, then it seems that you will have to get out yourself and there will be no one to rely on. At least initially, after that you can put together a strong team of encircled.

I think I'm lucky, I found a path. Animal, like the one that Seva described. I noticed it by accident. She led me to a clearing with mowed grass collected in haystacks. Yes, it seems that my guesses are confirmed, too many coincidences.

I didn’t spend the night in a haystack, I’m unlikely to succeed in getting away from the Poles, as Seva did, so I made myself a bed on the edge in the wild rose bushes, dragging hay from one of the haystacks. And so as not to leave traces. Walking barefoot was not very comfortable, but that's okay, I'm used to it. The fact that I took refuge on the edge helped me to remain unnoticed.

In the morning, when it was already dawn, I was awakened by the neighing of a horse. Quickly opening my eyes, I looked out from under the bush and thoughtfully examined the guests. Now everything has been completely confirmed: two Poles, the description in appearance and in clothes matches what Seva gave, even the cart was described correctly. But the Poles did not have weapons, they quite calmly worked with pitchforks, loading the cart. I think the weapon is just inside.

Now, when material evidence appeared, without hesitating for a second, he slid along the edge to the side. By the way, the Poles never pulled Seva out of the haystack, from which I logically concluded that the quest was for me alone. It became clear that my famous namesake was not there. Well, now I have a chance to become no less famous. I need to think it over, but later, when I have free time, now I have another task. Unlike Seva, I had no particular doubts and acted confidently and for sure. Therefore, quickly shaking off any rubbish and bugs - sleeping in a wetsuit on the ground, although I spread hay on my own, is not entirely pleasant, you won’t even scratch it - and left the place of spending the night. I need to go around the clearing in such a way as to get closer to the cart, remaining unnoticed by the Poles. Now they were working on the other side of the edge where I spent the night. By the way, they bit me not so much, before going to bed, I wiped my hands, feet and face with a neck with one grass. So the night, one might say, passed quietly, none of the crawling and biting brethren molested me. Yes, little by little.

It was not difficult for me to get to the cart unnoticed. Speaking quietly, the Poles were so carried away by the work that they woke up when the shutter of the Berdanka clicked. Maybe there was still some firearms in the cart, but, unfortunately, I came across only this, so, after checking the cartridge in the chamber, I made a noise, which made the Poles shudder and froze. My first question was random:

- Janek still walks in the uniform of the commander of the Red Army?

The locals turned around and stared with bulging eyes at the miracle Yudo, who pointed their own weapons at them. I think they never saw wetsuits, although I was wearing a standard one. Black, with open feet and sleeves to the hands.

- Why are we silent, why are we not answering? I asked.

Tracking all the movements of the Poles, I did not forget to control the district as well. Of course, I knew everything from Seva's stories, but you never know what will go wrong. I still had a slight doubt, so I tried to dispel it with this unexpected clarifying question. If it is confirmed, then I took the place of Seva exactly in the forty-first, and I have a chance for a new life. Moreover, unlike Seva, I had the necessary knowledge and skills. He got here without much preparation, but I, willy-nilly, prepared myself. I communicated mainly with front-line soldiers, and they took me for their own, yet I had to participate in the hostilities of both worlds. That is, the front-line soldiers did not hide anything and willingly answered clarifying questions, so I was in the subject. Yes, and for that raid on the rear of the Germans I was awarded, so there was something to wear on the service jacket. Still, I was a soldier, walked in uniform. True, the starley's shoulder straps did not outgrow, although a year later he could receive captain's stars. Yes, I was an officer. At the first award in the Kremlin he received the rank of junior lieutenant, the rest he received for his work. By the way, I received the Starley and the second Order of the Red Star for invaluable help in creating the T-55 prototype. We released it at the end of the forty-fifth, then tested it at the training ground in Kubinka. It was then that I was awarded, and I got an apartment. Already in the forty-sixth, these machines began to enter the troops in small batches and immediately made a splash with their power. Of course, it was possible to try to make other equipment, but the factories from Germany had just begun to arrive and be mounted, and on those machines that we had so far, we could not build anything better. It was in the Design Bureau that I helped with the creation of the T-62, when it was decided to return to our world. I then insisted on my participation - while I lived these three and a half years in a new world for myself, I could not forget my grandmother. And then it so happened that during the transition I got into the third world, and my own road opened before me. Seva was able to take full advantage of it, now is my chance for a personal quest, and I would not want to lose it. That is why I looked around, so that they would not take me by surprise, as I did these Poles.

Hmmm, something I digress, although the situation did not favor this. Pointing the barrel at the young Pole, I repeated my question, this time in an angry voice - I didn’t like that they didn’t answer me:

- So, Janek still wears the uniform of a lieutenant of the Red Army?

“Well, he walks,” the young man answered reluctantly.

“Great,” I smiled involuntarily. So, let's get undressed quickly. Both. Remove the underside as well. Hurry, my grandmother is waiting for me there, and I'm hanging around with you ... Well!

The Poles, as if blown up, began to undress, throwing clothes into one common pile. I don’t know what inspired them so much, either my angry appearance, or weapons, or the mention of my grandmother. By the way, when I remember her, for some reason, always standing on the porch and sadly looking at me, and such anger rolls over that I may not see her again, that I can barely control myself. Apparently, the Poles felt it, so they were in a hurry. There was a slight hitch with the boots - they sat tight, but they took them off too. By the way, if the need arises, you need to remember your grandmother in order to bring yourself up to standard. Anger at the right time is a good helper.

As soon as both Poles froze, covering their groin with their hands, I asked another question:

- What is the date today?

“Twenty-one,” the young man muttered gloomily. The one with the beard continued to remain silent, only looking at me with some anger and hatred.

The butt of the rifle pushed me hard in the shoulder, and the bearded man, mechanically clutching his chest - the hit was exactly in the heart - began to fall on his back. The young man froze for a second, stunned. True, he quickly came to his senses and rushed towards me, but it was too late, I just didn’t hesitate, rushed to the young man and smashed his face with the butt. It was possible to throw the weapon aside, I still had nothing to reload, and I would not have had time, it was six meters from the Poles. But now, when the second Pole, grabbing the injured place, fell on his back, I carefully laid the rifle on the grass, took out the blade and hit him under the ribs right in the heart. One hit was enough. Pulling out the blade, I quickly looked around and nodded contentedly. So far everything has gone as I planned. Now I have plans to change clothes, change my appearance to look like an aborigine and move to the farm. You can, of course, not go there, but knowing that there is clearly a cell of local resistance on the farm that is collaborating with the Germans, I considered it necessary to behead it. I was aware that the head of the farm was an agent in the robes of a clergyman. That's what I need to remove. With the rest, as it turns out, according to Seva, the rest were simple militants.

Quickly sticking the blade into the ground to wipe off the blood, I additionally wiped it with a bunch of dried grass, and then returned it to the sheath. The first thing I did was check the bodies. Both corpses. He inspected the cart, dumping excess hay. I decided to clean up the cart along with the gelding, not to travel on foot, if I got a good vehicle, that's why I carried out an audit. Unfortunately, there was only one firearm - a Berdanka, and in relatively good condition, there are only six rounds of ammunition for it. After reloading, five remained. By the way, the cartridges were loaded with smokeless powder, although I heard that smoky ones were used just at the Berdans. Or I'm wrong? It seems not.

There were two belts in the cart. On one were pouches with ammunition, matches and other necessary things. Both have scabbards with blades. One is good, the other is so-so. The blade is not of the best metal, if you do not take care of the knife, it will quickly become covered with rust, shoddy metal, with shells. Now it is clear why both Poles were not belted, they took them off before work. There were also two bundles of food in the cart, but I left the food for later, we need to leave the clearing, on the way to the farm and eat. There was no doubt where to go, there was only one road leading to the clearing. There were several other paths, but I couldn't get there in a cart. It’s easier on the way, while they don’t know about me here, you need to use this.

Hanging a Berdanka on my shoulder, I grabbed the nearest body and dragged it to the edge of the forest, deciding to disguise it in the bushes where I spent the night. Both Poles were taller than me, much heavier, but I have broad shoulders and enough strength to drag both of them in turn. Having hidden the bodies, I threw off my overalls and, together with the belt, drowned them in a deep barrel not far from the clearing. There was generally quite a marshy area. Only after that, having scratched with pleasure in previously inaccessible places, I plunged into the water of the same barrel and ran back.

Naked, shivering from the morning chill, he ran back to the clearing and froze by a pile of clothes. I selected a clean shirt and trousers from two sets and quickly got dressed, only did not touch my underwear, it needs to be washed, but the shoes did not suit me. It's embarrassing to admit, but my feet were small. Fortieth. And as trophies I got real shitty dogs of the forty-fourth and forty-fifth sizes. There is nothing to do, the boots are good, do not throw them away, tied them in one bundle and threw them into the cart, they will still come in handy, they are made with high quality. After that, I picked up my underwear, not forgetting to tie the remaining clothes in one knot and throw them behind my boots, I ran to the same barrel. I didn’t have soap, so I washed linen and footcloths with whatever I had to - clay and sand. Nothing, half an hour killed, but washed. Having squeezed out the water, he also ran back to the clearing and threw the underwear on the grass, and so that it dried, took the reins and, throwing them over the gelding's head, sat on the rim, after which he snapped the reins on the horse's back:

- Come on, Trophy!

The gelding slowly moved the cart from its place and headed for the edge of the forest, where a dark tunnel could be seen of the forest road. Before that, I had to turn the wagon around, as it was stern to the road. I looked like a local. Of course, both Poles were head and shoulders taller than me, and it was because of my short stature that I ended up in the tank troops, not only because I had the rights of a tractor driver, but the work there was such that I gained muscles quickly enough. Shoulders, out, were heard, the muscles appeared. So if both shirts fit, then the legs had to be rolled up so that bare feet looked out. So far, I look like this, and when I get shoes in size, then I will change my appearance from a villager to a wartime man. Let's see the situation. There are a couple of steps to the border, you need to dump, otherwise the border guards would not get into the eyes. Seva, by a lucky chance, somehow managed without their attention, I hope I will be lucky too.

The gelding slowly rearranged his limbs, and I didn’t rush him, and noticing that he himself knew the way, I put down the reins, pressing them with my right foot to free my hands, pulled the nearest bundle of provisions to me and greedily dug into it. Well, the food was, though simple, but satisfying, and most importantly, familiar to me. Quite rustic. I immediately grabbed the pink salmon, with a trophy knife, the one that is better, cut off a piece for myself, took a slice of bacon - it was already chopped - and had breakfast with pleasure. The fact that I had previously sent to the next world two people unknown to me, or rather poorly known, did not discourage my appetite at all. I saw a lot of deaths, yet a participant in the hostilities of both worlds, so the death of the Poles for me remained in the background behind my back. Yes, I forgot about them. This is what distinguishes a warring person from a simple citizen - he knows how to cut off the death of other people. The main thing here is to determine that they are your enemies, so they are quickly forgotten.

The food was hearty, but not varied, so I ate well, even the vegetables came in handy. I'm talking about onions and garlic - that's the thing with lard. He washed down with kvass from a glass bottle, plugged with a stalk. By the way, in our village, stumps were also used this way, although residents of rural areas where there were vast fields used corn cobs for this, but it did not grow in our country. Kvass was vigorous, in the subject, I liked it. I drained a third of the two-liter bottle, then put the cork back in place and folded the bundle again. I only examined the second one and didn’t touch anything there, I just checked if there was anything perishable. By the way, in the second bundle was a bottle of milk. And in general, the difference in the contents of the nodules was noticeable. At first I didn’t understand why there were two knots with provisions, if both Poles from the same farm could put everything in one, but they work together, and then I realized that one had an ulcer or gastritis, and he was on a diet.

After breakfast, I tidied up on the cart and, leaving the rifle lying on the edge, jumped onto the forest road, took the gelding by the bridle and led him on myself, listening to the sounds in the forest. The cart did not particularly creak, it was clear that it was taken care of and lubricated as it should, so nothing prevented me from listening. While we were walking, I began to think about what to do next. The situation cleared up completely, for reasons unknown to me, I was thrown into the third world, where there were no Seva and other travelers. And at the same time and place, like my famous namesake. At first after the hit, I still did not know how to react to it all, but now I have decided everything. I remain. I will not live at the portal and try to return. Since I was given a chance, I need to take it. One thing was clear: it was not worth going to Stalin right away. There were several reasons. I am nobody for him, besides, I did not want to miss the fun that happened in the fiery summer of the forty-first year. But when I have a name, and I was sure that I would become famous, then I would declare myself ... Hmm, all this, of course, is good, but knowing about the major defeats of our troops, I simply cannot remain silent about it. In the same place, our guys will die, and I will be silent to remain incognito? Yes, not in life. So the problem stood before me, which I pondered as I walked along the forest road and listened to the forest. Seva's story was confirmed again, I heard a distant dog barking. The sound is cheerful, the dogs were either fed or someone played with them.

Having tied the reins to a tree by the road, otherwise the gelding was still reaching towards the farm, I picked up the rifle and quickly ran towards the barking dogs. See how they fill up! I was wearing a belt with pouches and two blades, so you could say I was fully armed.

After running only fifty meters, I noticed a gap ahead. He slowed down his run and, having gone to the edge, and then into the forest, began to sneak towards the farm. Having reached the edge of the forest, he picked up a suitable tree and, instantly flying up to it, began to inspect the farm. Well, Janek, in the form of a lieutenant, was in the yard, watching the kids that were playing with dogs, so the last doubts disappeared. After I finished my inspection, I got down and ran back to the wagon. Before you start shooting, and I didn’t want to pass by, you first need to prepare the escape routes. The road along which I moved from the clearing meandered from the border into the depths of our territories, so in order to get further from it, it was necessary to cross the farm through which it passed, and I could not do this without finding myself. So, you have to drive the wagon through the forest, winding between the trees. That's exactly what I did. It took me a little over an hour to walk around the farm. But I was in no hurry to take the cart out onto the forest road, I watered the horse in the stream and left it in the forest, after which I ran back to the farm with a rifle. Some interesting things happened there.

Having climbed a tree, I witnessed how a flying combat detachment of Poles was about to leave - obviously to commit sabotage in our rear. In the case of Seva, apparently, this did not happen because of his unexpected appearance, but here five Poles gathered. Moreover, three of them were in our uniform: Janek Lieutenant, two more in the form of ordinary Red Army soldiers. The two remaining were in old Polish uniforms and, judging by the machine gun, were his crew.

“How interesting,” I muttered thoughtfully, studying the changed situation on the territory of the farm.

Residents quite sincerely saw off the detachment, it was clear how good luck was wished to them, such cattle. Among the farmers, the black robe of a clergyman also flashed. I don't know if he was a real priest or a priest, but he played well. To be honest, what I saw on the farm made me hurry. Of course, it’s more expensive to get involved with such a combat detachment, but we wanted to let him go for a walk around our rear even less. By the way, where did the machine gun come from? In Seva's stories, he never flickered.

From the edge to the farm was two hundred meters, to the crowd of farmers - all two hundred and fifty. I corrected the scope - I had not yet had to shoot at such a range with this weapon, and I did not know all the capabilities of the rifle, so I aimed efficiently. For aimed shooting, I didn’t need to get close, this is Seva, a so-so shooter, but I can do something. Naturally, I aimed at the German agent in the robes of a clergyman, it was he who was the main target, which means that you need to start with him.

The pop of a shot reverberated painfully in his ears, and the butt pushed against his shoulder. However, I already knocked out the used cartridge case and inserted a cartridge into the receiver. Two quick reloads were clamped between my teeth. I decided to shoot Janek next, but I had to change my plans on the go. The machine gunners reacted unexpectedly quickly to the shooting. One of them knelt down on one knee, and the second put the barrel of a machine gun on his shoulder - by the way, I still can’t figure out what model it was - and opened fire. He fired at the edge, apparently, they did not consider the smoke of my first shot, so the bullets dug into the trees below me and on the sides, but also below. Here they take a little higher, and that's it, the end of the kitten. By the sound, the machine gunners determined where they were shooting from, but they still did not understand that I was on a tree. So it's clear who I shot next.

The first bullet entered the priest's stomach, causing him to collapse onto the dusty ground. I aimed at the chest, so, having estimated the trajectory of the bullet from the Berdanka, I shot at the machine gunner. Again, the bullet flew not quite where I was aiming. No, the hit was great, but still the spread came out decent. I aimed at the machine gunner and, although I hit him, the bullet first entered the head of his assistant, and then into the stomach of the machine gunner himself - he got up, reloading. By the way, it looks like it was a Browning, the store was obviously twenty rounds and was inserted from below, and not like the Bren's from above.

Reloading again, I began to look for the next targets, but there were none. The farmers hid, only those I had shot lay in plain sight. Realizing that a long firefight would not be in my favor, and I had completed my task - the priest was lying in the dust and, judging by the agony, was already retreating - I rolled down and ran to the wagon. Although it was not possible to get Janek, but I put the machine gunners, and they were very good specialists, judging by their actions.

Disturbing shots were still coming from the direction of the farm, but I did not pay attention to them, the locals did not yet understand that I had already left. Having safely reached the wagon, I led it out onto the road and, hiding the Berdanka under the hay, put the belt with pouches in the same place, snapped the reins. This time I did not restrain the gelding, moreover, I also urged it on. Only in those places where the roots of trees crawled out onto the road, he took a step so as not to break the wheels, and where there was a more or less normal road, he moved very quickly.

There was no persecution, I never noticed it, I’m sure the Poles, if they didn’t pull them off the farm, thinking that they were fired upon by border guards or some of ours, they probably just started to find out what happened, so I had a big head start. Until they find where I went on the trophy wagon, I will be very far away.

Kilometers through five the wood has ended, and fields have begun. A strip of the next forest could be seen in the distance, but, apparently, a small one, it did not occupy the entire horizon. By the way, some of our motorized unit was standing to the left, mushrooms with sentries were visible. Not a tank, there were mostly trucks, the guns were open, and some kind of armored vehicles were visible from the BA line. Although there were also tanks, I recognized the BT-7 from the familiar silhouettes. Hmm, judging by the equipment, it was a reconnaissance battalion.

Naturally, I did not jump out at the edge of a gallop. Noticing a gap, he first made reconnaissance and, not finding anything serious, began to put his appearance in order. He put a bearded man's wide-brimmed hat on his head, took off his clothes, put on clean and dried underwear, hid the Berdan coat, and removed the belt with pouches. In general, prepared. Now from the outside I am a real villager. Making sure that I did not attract attention, I took the cart and, clicking the reins, moved on already on the cart, playing the role of a simple farmer. The main thing is not to be stopped and interrogated. Sleep, I did not know the local language. It seems that he is called surzhik. Although it is better for the patrols not to get caught, just the army team does not care about me. Thinking for a second, I turned to them at the crossroads, where a rolling road turned to the army unit that was standing in the summer camp. It was necessary to convey some information, you never know.

* * *

Prologue

* * *

Just like in the description of Seva about how he got into the forty-first. Planes, a whole forest, no platform for scientists - a strange coincidence, isn't it?

- Janek still walks in the uniform of the commander of the Red Army?

- Why are we silent, why are we not answering? I asked.

- So, Janek still wears the uniform of a lieutenant of the Red Army?

“Well, he walks,” the young man answered reluctantly.

“Great,” I smiled involuntarily. So, let's get undressed quickly. Both. Remove the underside as well. Hurry, my grandmother is waiting for me there, and I'm hanging around with you ... Well!

As soon as both Poles froze, covering their groin with their hands, I asked another question:

- What is the date today?

“Twenty-one,” the young man muttered gloomily. The one with the beard continued to remain silent, only looking at me with some anger and hatred.

- Come on, Trophy!