Blood on the sleeve. Bashny.Net

Andrei, is dedicated to my friend.

In May of '90, our international class, one of many of the then Union of Soviet Socialist Republics was at school military training. There were some at the end of the school year, according to the rate of NVP (basic military training).
It was the end of May, our camp was located in one of the most beautiful gorges of the Caucasus at a height of more than a thousand meters above the morya.Svetilo warm sun, mountains, grass, and we or three dozen beardless youths, in the form of mock studotryadov overalls, sat near the fence, proud the fact that today finally fired from these machines. We sat and smoked, and at Stepan ogromenny Bulgarian guitar play "Blood" Tsoya.My -mnogonatsionalnaya "gang" of the Greeks, Karachai, cherkesoov, local Cossack (what a nation dick understand, whether hohlyugi, or Russian) together singing along.





Blood on the sleeve.
My serial number on the sleeve!
Wish me luck,
Wish me luck ...

Do not stay in the grass.

Now often in the car listening to this song is constantly before the eyes of the one idilliya.My young, singing, not knowing how pizdos with the country over the years will create our older generation!
No one was left in the grass but Ildar.
I remember in the 94 met him in the village on a steep inomarke.Krasny "Lincoln" with the Chechen nomerami.On insolently booze in the center of the village, cutting the night sleeping in the car on the ulitsam.Potom already familiar 99 reported that they brought him out of the night and quietly Chechnya buried cemetery on the outskirts of one of the mountain villages. Then many karachaychat, taste sweet promises so brought Wahhabism, shamefully blackened mounds svezherytoy land for nehuy to shove power!
In contrast Ildar, Sasha, our rowdy odnoklashka, fought for power. He got to the front thanks to a pair of boxes rockets spizzhennyh in part by future inhabitants dizbata Novgorodom.Kak he was sent to a company of the same storm Tear Groznyy.Iz 106 people in the back of the 17.Vsego a couple of months of street fighting. The guy got God forbid! He shot the Czechs, fired at his VVshnikam revenge, housebroken and obkolovshis parmidolom was putting the bodies in piles. There is no longer Sasha. Dembelnuvshis he sat on a needle, ten years spent in a drugged ugare.I completely carbon monoxide poisoning.
Stepan, our guitarist before the army had not got into the storm dozhil.Napivshis more.Nashli his body only on the third day.
Brothers Potsanuki ssavshie boiling water 90, hoping to shift to Greece safely to svalili.No father died, the latest Chichi buried him returned to his homeland and settled in Moscow, successfully passing the wonders army lawlessness mid to late 90s.
Latvians Edgar met after the army, just for demobilization. He shrunk in its Europe, spent two years in prison, is now engaged in the sale of foreign cars like the local offices.
Sam was in the area close to Chechnya. I did not have to fight for what is grateful to all the gods of the world. Because her eyes looked at this ugly meropriyatie.Pomnyu soldier with a torn buttocks at the airport of Beslan discharged from a helicopter for transport to the hospital for Holzman.
I remember the conclusion of explosives from Chechnya in December 96, 19 year old boys were empty, dull eyes, like the elderly and gray hairs on their heads disheveled. When asked about the gray hair, answered indifferently. They say there are not going gray when you are in the center of the city full of Czechs zazhmut like a rat in an iron barrel.
We were prepared for another profile, in case of crossing the border by the Taliban. Fucked in the tail and mane, sparing neither us nor the ammunition and in May '97 slightly rasslabili.Blagodarya the captains and Prapor past Afgan, Abkhazia and Chechnya to me now still piled up a mountain of muscle, but plagued by leg, females do not freeze at all, hot and sore at night to convulsions.
Friend Andrei, my closest odnoklashka who helped me fight in the school of greyhounds horsemen and their older brothers served morpehom.Malenky, stocky, passionate wrestling and boxing but survived all hell checks for service in an elite unit of 100 recruits, there are only two desyatka.Na demobilization brought the present he bought marijuana at the entry to the port of Milan. Smoke we had great time ... Pomaia in the civilian world, the fall of 94, he left for kontraknu in reconnaissance. I remember in December 94 came from a business trip, accompanied by wagons with ammunition in transit through Dagestan.Za glass of brandy, be drunk indignant. "You would not believe in Dagestan, even the children we gestures, finger across his throat that you kerdyk Russian. Will something Andryukha that something terrible! "- He told me. He was right. Then there were all the Chechen campaign, Pervomaysk, where he personally naherachil a dozen outlaws raids in the mountains, a contract extension. He married, had two daughters, bought an apartment in one of the cities of Kuban.
In 2003, I learned that he had hanged himself. Just corny hanged. He left the ranks of the Russian army, for the reason that all of his faithful brothers in arms laid down their heads to the glory of the fatherland. Rehabilitation after injury to the lung, terrible binges, the voices in my head, a pair of broken washing machines in a drunken stupor. Recently was at the grave of a young beautiful parnyaga looked at me with a monument. And on the verge boldly embossed.

Blood on the sleeve.
My serial number on the sleeve!

Source: