Happy Defender of the Fatherland Day, my comrades

Samopal. There should only be a number and that's it.

How I got into the army in years Part of

Good day, dear pikabushniki.

I'm looking at my topic, although it is far from the topic of this site (it’s not clear why, the site itself doesn’t seem to have such a topic), but I received a response from the people. In this connection, it motivated me to publish the next part of my story as soon as possible. I want to clarify a little the format of the story. Why 1 part of 12. According to the plan, it was assumed that 1 part will include events during 1 month of service. Thus, 12 months in service equals 12 parts. So it is more structured or something. You can't write everything in one post at once. Such a number of beeches, even for me to generate at once, is quite problematic. On top of that, there are hardly many people willing to let such a wall of text pass through themselves at once. For convenience's sake, the narrative will be broken up into parts.

So, it was mid-November. I and a couple of dozen more of my fellow countrymen, who, with the light hand of Junior Sergeant Andreev, were called goblins, inevitably followed to the place of their further residence. I am sure that none of us imagined the place where they are taking us and where the absolute majority of us will have to leave the comfort zone for a whole year and fully demonstrate our best (or not so) qualities.

I think, among other things, it makes sense to do a brief description of the characters that I met along the way. One way or another, even though everyone was a gray mass called green goblins (by the color of the uniform and by the expression of Sergeant Andreev), but individually, almost everyone was such a frame that at least shoot a movie.

I think it would be right to start with the aforementioned Junior Sergeant Andreev. This comrade, 19 years old, who had already served his mandatory term in the part where we were heading, was a typical representative of a person with a difficult fate and with no prospects of making a career anywhere other than the army. Good or bad, I will not judge. These are the realities of our country at all times. Andreyev was born in the Russian wilderness. He did not know his father, his mother died almost in early childhood. With whom he was brought up there, I don't remember now. Education is kind of like 9 classes. Early acquainted with bad habits, which, however, almost led him to jail. From the story, I understood that some pepper, with which they drank together, somehow returned home and that pepper decided to stick to him unambiguously, for which he received a knife from the future junior sergeant. Without talking and in cold blood. According to Andreev, he had two paths further. Prison or army. The choice fell in favor of the latter. Andreev served the prescribed year, signed a contract for another 2. Despite his rather young age and small stature, the junior sergeant was distinguished by a rather stern disposition and had obvious commanding habits. I didn't want to argue with him from the word at all. Well, he told about himself in front of all of us, after lights out the night before being sent to the unit. And yet, upon arrival at the unit, Andreev was supposed to lead the KMB with us.

We went with a transfer in Yekaterinburg. It was 4-5 hours between trains. My own sister studied and lived there. I dialed her from the train, they say, come and see. When we arrived at the ECB, we walked in straight rows into a special waiting room for the military (or rather for prisoners of war) and then time dragged on slowly. About 20 minutes later my sister arrived. We found, talked, looked at the other goblins. I even met someone, a few photos as a souvenir, a short goodbye and we went further on the train to St. Petersburg.

Would you like to know how conscripts are transported on the train?

I'll tell you right away, everything is very organized. All travel in the same carriage, under the watchful eye of the commanders' fathers. They eat on command, go to the toilet on command and sleep on command (of course not). In fact, following to the place of duty is still that kind of dissipation. You do what you want, sleep as much as you want, you want to play cards with your superiors, you want to read, eat, smoke, flirt with cute fellow travelers. Just do not bully and do not complicate the life of other passengers and everything will be fine. You are already essentially a military man, in uniform, but there is no demand from you.

Almost all the way (a little over a day) I read a book and slept. I read Nika Perumov, the first book from the "Empire Above All" series. Light reading about a rookie from the distant future who voluntarily entered the service of the Kaiser, the emperor of humanity (yes, there is such a universe). Interesting reading must be said, and the atmosphere of army life is described in an interesting way. But that's not the point.

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