Don't look for it on the map of Chechnya. I made it up myself. An archipelago is not a group of islands, as interpreted by the encyclopedia. An archipelago of the fates and deeds of the Northern Fleet Marines, with whom I was brought together by a recent business trip to the North Caucasus. Units of the amphibious assault battalion were located around the small village of Benoy. at the entrance to the Vedenskoe Gorge, like islands in a raging sea. There, the Marines held a kind of "front line," although there was no such thing. This was because the insurgents were everywhere—in the mountains, in the villages, hiding their beards and weapons in secret places. As a result, the "Black Berets" were forced to fight in a defensive manner.

More than once, during my travels and crossings of the Benoy "archipelago", I heard from the marines: "We have come. To give this land peace!" In the name of this, Major General Alexander Ivanovich Otrakovsky gave his life. Captain Alexey Miloshevich, Lieutenant Yuri Kuryagin, and Sergeant Vladimir Tatashvili were killed. Posthumously awarded the title of Hero of Russia by Decree of the President of the Russian Federation No. 565 dated March 24, 2000, for his courage and heroism in the performance of his military duty.

The bandits call them "infidels" and scare the civilians with "black berets." The battalion's medical personnel have provided assistance to ordinary people on numerous occasions, even bringing some back from the brink of death. The Marines have shared their food with the local residents. I have witnessed Chechen women approaching the Marine headquarters in Benoi. Khattab and Basayev called them "the black death," and they said, "Sons, we haven't eaten in two days." The Marines generously shared whatever they could...

They came to bring peace to this long-suffering land and its people. The Benoi Archipelago is an archipelago of destinies and actions. It is an archipelago of military duty, honor, and everyday heroism. What drew the North Sea Marines there?

The answer is simple. "There is such a profession - to protect the Motherland!" These words from a famous movie were repeated to me by the commander of the paratroopers, Lieutenant Colonel Anatoly Belezeko. The platoon commander, Captain Alexander Abadzherov. The signalman, Lieutenant Pavel Sytnik, the squad leader, Sergeant Alexander Tenyu, and many others.

West of Serzhen-Yurt

I hadn't even walked a dozen meters towards the battalion headquarters in Benoy when a passing armored personnel carrier suddenly came to a halt, and a painfully familiar voice emerged from a cloud of nauseating dust:

- Bah, such people and without security! Correspondent, what wind?

On the armor, with his feet dangling in the commander's hatch, sat the sergeant-major of the first assault company, Senior Warrant Officer Vladimir Bagryantsev.

What a stroke of luck! As they say, the hunter is always the prey. The first assault company was the most important part of my assignment in Chechnya. It left a lasting impression on my journalistic career. I participated in the landing on an unprepared beach in a armored personnel carrier from the hold of a large landing ship, as well as in night shooting and tactical exercises. I even reached the age of gray hair with this company. That's why I was so eager to join the first assault company...

"Nikolaich, your company commander invited me to a dumpling party yesterday," I replied cheerfully.

"There are no questions. Let's go," Bagryantsev said, gesturing to the seat next to him. "But we don't have any dumplings left. For dinner, we'll have fried flounder. Is that okay?"

- I recognize the sergeant-major of the first DShR: in war as in peace, everything is beautiful in the company kitchen!

Bagryantsev and the driver laughed, and I said:

- Volodya, I'm going to the headquarters. I'll warn the men.

"Come on, just make it quick," the petty officer said, and then added, but this time with concern in his voice. -We need to get through Serzhen-Yurt before dark. The Czechs stirred. Not yet

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Are you aware of this? Our water truck was shelled in Vedeno today. Two people were injured. And in Kharachoi, a sniper shot a Ural's wheel.

"Wow," I said, "we just went to the militia in Vedeno with the general yesterday." "I'll be right back."

... It was getting dark. We were speeding down Serzhen-Yurt. The wind was whistling in our ears. The harsh, drizzling rain was slapping us in the face. On both sides of the street, there were empty houses that looked more like forbidding fortresses, with dark, empty windows. There was not a soul in sight. The village seemed to have died. But had it really died? Is there a watchful pair of eyes following us, mentally drawing a line through the crosshairs with a two-battalion lead?

It made me feel uneasy. I removed the safety lock and chambered a round.

"Well, we're almost there," Bagryantsev shouted as the armored personnel carrier emerged from the alley. The tension immediately subsided as they reached the outskirts of the village. Ahead, about a mile away, the silhouettes of their camouflaged "brothers" could be barely seen against the backdrop of the forest edge and the gathering twilight. This was the command post of the first assault company.

On the verge of a breakthrough

Only the sergeant major, I and the commander of the first airborne assault platoon, senior Lieutenant Vitaly Sushko, sat down to dinner, the radio station came to life: the battalion headquarters was calling 1 dshr for communication. From Benoy, it was reported that according to intelligence data, starting tonight and over the next few days, the militants are expected to break through from the mountains to the plain in squares (according to the encoding). Sushko spread out a map in front of him and made some notes on it.

"They'll pass right through us, heading for Shali and Serzhen-Yurt. Well, brother, you've come to visit and you've 'gotten it'. Congratulations!" Bagryantsev remarked.

"If you get it, you get it," Vitaly supported Nikolayevich. "Look."

He moved the map closer to me and began to explain:

- We occupy the high ground in these positions and block the main roads leading down from the mountains and through the forest. This is done to prevent the bandits from escaping. As you may have heard, they do not seek to engage in open combat. Instead, they move about at night like mice, hiding their weapons in villages, shaving their beards, and assuming the guise of "respectable" citizens for a time.

"Where exactly are the militants now?" I asked.

"Everywhere," Bagryantsev replied for Vitaly. "Did you pass through Shali with the battalion commander? Did you see the young men scurrying around the streets, glaring at us like wolves? Well, when we were on our way to the Vedensky Gorge, there wasn't a single soul in the village. Where did they come from? That's the question."

"Fun," I said.

"There's nowhere to go," Vitaly assured him, and ordered Senior Sailor Kotyukov, who was occasionally adding logs to the stove, to summon the platoon commander.

A few minutes later, Sergeant Alexey Bagin and Junior Sergeant Arkady Kustov entered the tent, shaking off the raindrops.

"The situation isn't ideal," Sushko briefed the sergeants on the information from headquarters. "Therefore, the first step is to double the patrols; the second step is to maintain constant surveillance to ensure they don't fall asleep; and the third step is to anticipate the militants' actions, as they may sense that we are aware of their plans. Their behavior can be unpredictable. The night and the rain are working in their favor. Therefore, don't be overly optimistic that they will choose to stay indoors during such inclement weather. They may attack at any time." Do you understand?"

"No questions, Commander," Bagin replied. Kuskov nodded in agreement.

... They went to bed. It was past midnight. At the head of the bed were the "unloading" bags, the ammunition pouches, and the "Kalashnikovs" at hand. But after the message from headquarters, they couldn't sleep.

The fire crackled dryly in the stove, as Leshya Kotyukov added more wood. Suddenly, Sushko stood up. He listened for a few seconds, then sighed, moved to the edge of the cot, and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.

"Can't sleep?" I asked him.

"It's nothing," Vitaly shook his head. "I'm just imagining things."

They lit up. In silence. After about two minutes, the platoon leader, looking at the flickering cigarette light in the dim light, said quietly:

- It all started after Lesha Milashevich's death. I will never forget December 31. I will die and I will not forget.

December, 31st

On December 31, 1999, one of the platoons of the second assault company was fighting in an encirclement on a hill that had been occupied shortly before the battle. In the dense fog, the bandits approached from an unexpected direction. A brief skirmish ensued. In the first minutes of the battle, Captain Alexey Milashevich, the company commander, and Lieutenant Yuri Kuryagin, the platoon leader, were killed. In a critical situation, Sergeant Vladimir Tatashvili assumed command of the platoon. Even though he was wounded, he continued to lead the battle, and he died a hero's death during another attack by the bandits. In total, the "Black Berets" lost twelve men on that ill-fated mountain.

"We were far away from Milashevich that day," Sushko said in a muffled voice. "We only had information from the radio station. We knew there was a battle going on. We received a report about the casualties... You know, there's no such thing as a war without casualties. But we still wanted to believe that maybe it would be okay. Even if they were wounded, they were still alive. The tension was taking a toll on our nerves.

And then our company was ordered to storm that height. Sasha Abadzherov was the first to reach it with his paratrooper platoon. The guys truly accomplished a feat: under enemy fire, from mountain to mountain, and in just forty

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minutes. Fantastic! But they couldn't help Leshka. They were just a little late. They only managed to rescue their bodies from abuse. When our company arrived, we saw a smoldering bunker and charred corpses. The militants had shot the guys point-blank with grenade launchers and flamethrowers.

The bandits are scared of the "black berets" like the plague, and they won't fight us openly. But on December 31, they'll be in for a surprise!

Vitaly and I smoked another cigarette. In silence. Then he looked at his watch (it was time to check the posts) and suggested that we take a short nap. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day.

"Good morning, Chechnya!"

In Chechnya, it gets light quickly, as if someone had suddenly opened invisible curtains. It's still pitch-black, but within half an hour, a misty dawn creeps mischievously into the tent, unceremoniously waking you up. A cool morning takes its rightful place.

The silence was pristine. In front of the tent, Kotyukov was cooking breakfast over a fire, talking to one of the sailors. A three-month-old puppy named Nika, the company's favorite, was running around in the mud, barking enthusiastically.

When the marines picked up the dog in one of the deserted villages, Nika fit in the sergeant's palm. Now she has grown up, become stronger, and feels at home in the 1st DShR, naturally, after the officers and the sergeant, as the leader, at least.

"He's going to be a great dog," Volodya said with a smile. "He doesn't like bandits at all. He'll spend nights barking at their positions. He can smell a stranger from a mile away."

Today, the shaggy "marine" had already scoured the platoon's surroundings since dawn, chased birds in the forest, and now was scurrying around the sailors' feet, hoping for a tasty morsel.

But this peaceful idyll didn't last long. The cannonade resumed at the Argun Gorge. To be honest, when I woke up, I didn't notice that the Wolf's Gate was quiet.

"It's exactly nine o'clock, you can check your watch," the sergeant chuckled. "Our company has a joke: a missile and artillery program called 'Good Morning, Chechnya!' has been broadcast specifically for the militants."

The day passed quietly, but in the evening there was a battle. It wasn't a prolonged one, and fortunately, it was timely. Why was it timely? Because, according to orders from the battalion headquarters, the first assault company opened "disturbing" fire in the previously "cut" sectors that were most dangerous for a breakthrough. Before the marines could even fire a single "magazine," they heard automatic gunfire coming from the densely forested mountainside. Bandits!

Sushko commanded, "To battle!" He radioed to headquarters that he was observing the militants advancing on the company's defensive line, and requested artillery support. Meanwhile, the "Black Berets" were firing grenade after grenade into the pitch-black darkness of the hill, illuminated only by the flickering lights of enemy gunfire.

"I'm going to turn them into a sieve," Bagryantsev shouted, turning his large-caliber Utes rifle towards the lights. A moment later, a fiery arc of tracer fire stretched upward.

To the right of Bagryantsev, Sergeant Alexey Bagin's grenade launcher team was firing. The AGS-17 "Flame" was sending "gifts" to the militants in a staggered pattern. Suddenly, the slope erupted and shook from the impact of the Marine artillery. Two volleys were fired. Then, under the bright stars, a ringing silence hung in the air, accompanied by a signal flare indicating a ceasefire.

"What the hell, the silence can't be ringing. Well, of course, it's from the gunshots."

Suddenly, there was shooting about three kilometers away from the company, in the Shali area. But a minute later, everything was quiet there as well.

"It's at the VVS checkpoint," Bagryantsev explained, then glanced at the numb peak, spat, and said:

- Let's go to the tent. I feel like the "show" is over for today.

At night, there were several distant explosions. In the morning, when they went to the edge of the minefield that covered the company's right flank, they saw parts of a human body and a mangled AKM in the craters.

"You're welcome, you bitches," one of the Marines said angrily.

On the way back to the positions, Vitaly shared his opinion about yesterday's incident:

- Most likely, the militants didn't intend to engage in combat. Their objective was to infiltrate Shali or Serzhen-Yurt. When we opened "disturbing" fire, they assumed they had been detected. Their nerves gave out, and they revealed themselves. After retreating, they took a risk and attempted to pass to the right. However, they encountered a checkpoint. They retreated through a field.

"On the mines," Bagryantsev added.

From afar, from the Argun Gorge, the wind brought the rolling echo of an artillery volley. Without speaking, we looked at our watches: nine o'clock in the morning.

Good morning, Chechnya!

FROM THE EDITOR. The names of some military personnel have been changed.

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