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One night with "grads"
Views:Now it’s quiet on Kievsky Avenue in Donetsk, but less than a week ago we all, living on the northern outskirts of the capital of Donbass, battered by Ukrainian artillery, had the opportunity to once again experience first-hand how sincere and friendly the soldiers of the Ukrainian army are to us.
At the beginning of February, residents of Donetsk experienced approximately the same thing as the hero of the film “Groundhog Day” - it was as if the times of late January-early February 2015 had returned to them, when mines from Ukrainian troops lay at the entrances of houses, and Uragan missiles exploded at gloomy queues for water, killing and maiming people.
Two years later, everything repeated according to a similar scenario. At first we listened to the roar of artillery and the endless chatter of machine guns in the area of the Spartak village and the Avdeevka industrial zone, now known throughout Russia, and even Europe. On the night of January 28-29, the roar became unbearable, and at about five o’clock in the morning, half of the sky seemed to glow pink and electricity, water, and almost all types of communications were cut off. A little later it became clear that the batteries were getting colder. At a temperature of minus 16 outside, this fact did not add optimism. At that time, we did not yet know that the Ukrainian army had gone on the attack, and its artillery had plowed up the positions of mortars and infantry in the area of the Yasinovat checkpoint, where fighting had been going on for many months.
We also did not know that several units would have to fight off a sudden attack by Ukrainian soldiers in a fire formation. There were rumors that the Ukrainian Armed Forces had moved forward almost three infantry battalions and a tank company. Taking into account the artillery, this is almost a full-fledged regiment. Later, Ukrainian commanders and politicians will say that one unit went on the offensive almost spontaneously, almost without permission. But it became known from the militia commanders that it had been a long time since the enemy had attacked the positions of the Donbass defenders in such masses, so brazenly and confidently.
The political barometer continued to fall, and its needle was already showing a storm and a hurricane. As it turned out, it’s almost like that – “Grad”.
This is the name of the basic version of the Katyusha today. We became acquainted with its effect on our nerves, blood, and heart at twenty minutes past twelve on February 3.
There is nothing to brag about, and there is no need to be a hero. You’re just sleeping, and suddenly, with some atavistic feeling, you understand that now, in the next millisecond, something bad is going to happen. You raise your head from the pillow and see how the glass of a triple-glazed unit bends inside, the frames begin to shake, and then a short and powerful sound of arrival, the house jumps, everything immediately calms down, and in this second of dead silence you manage to hear the structures of your block house creaking. And only then do all the sounds turn on: the howling of car alarms, the screams of awakened children and women, the sound of broken glass in the entrance. The same glass that two years ago was bought by the whole world, by the whole entrance, to replace those then broken by the blast wave of a 122-mm mine that flew from the outskirts of the airport. It won’t be even three kilometers from us in a straight line.
After an hour and a half you calm down, come to your senses, search for messages on the Internet, and realize that a full package of sixteen missiles has arrived, with some kind of detached horror (because the thought that it was possible to release a full charge of “hail” does not enter your head) through sleeping residential areas, in which there is not even a hint of military units, artillery batteries or tanks).
In short, the house begins to calm down and fall asleep. Having taken a double dose of Corvolol, you also lie down with caution. With caution, because a few hours earlier, and thanks to modern communications, you know this, on the way out of Donetsk to Makeyevka, something just as stupidly merciless flew in and exploded so that all the windows in a five-story hostel nearby flew out. Corpses, wounded, destroyed Motel bus station. There is something to be afraid of, and it is not without reason that – exactly two hours later, in exactly the same way – without a declaration of war, the second portion of “grads” arrives. I won’t repeat it, I’ll just say that the house fell asleep heavily and lightly in the morning. Some stayed in the apartments, some fled to a bomb shelter. Mainly with children, of course.
The results of the shelling of Donetsk from rocket artillery systems, reviewed during the day, were convincing: the shooting was not carried out blindly. They hit squares across squares. If compared with air raids, this is approximately like carpet bombing. A long time ago, during an army exercise, I saw the work of a “grad” division - a field of several hectares was plowed with care worthy of the most persistent farmers. There was no living place left.
In our yard, a kindergarten was miraculously saved - the hailstone, as often happens, fortunately for Ukrainians in Donetsk, simply did not explode. She stuck out of the ground in her crater until the sappers came for her. In the neighboring yard, the children were less fortunate - there was a gaping hole in the roof. Patch again, just like two years ago. Then there was a mirror situation with these two preschool institutions.
On Kievsky Prospekt, on the parallel Sobinova Street, and a little further on in the Vetka microdistrict, the missiles left broken roads, houses, broken windows in a school and boiler rooms. From a united Ukraine with love!
A friend, the famous Donetsk journalist Ramil Zamdykhanov, experiencing the events of this terrible night, composed a utopian picture:
“And then Supreme Commander-in-Chief Petro Poroshenko drives into Donetsk in a big, beautiful tank. And people run up to him with armfuls of flowers and vying with each other ask:
- Pyotr Alekseevich, have you been giving us crap all this time?
- I! Don't thank me!
This is our response to the Nazi monster, who is shooting at the large, beautiful Russian city of Donetsk with all types of weapons available to them. Donetsk is not hysterical, does not complain, it just sighs heavily and goes to work, fight, study, raise children.
Post scriptum. Europe did not notice the night raid on Donetsk. They told her in Kyiv that none of this happened.
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