Veteran Oleg Sobolev writes poems about Victory Day in 2030

The intuition of the soldier

on the Morning of 16 March 1944, the commander sent a Sergeant Sobolev test cable: the connection was junk. Barely crawled through the snow from their a few hundred meters ahead began mortar fire. Oleg, soldiers experienced, has calculated that in a few minutes, mine will cover it. Noticed a small cell with Rubicom two roll forward, slid into her. The first minute thanking God that the shelter is sent, and the second – something quivered inside, felt uneasy.

1946. Senior Sergeant Oleg Sobolev.

as If some unseen force pushed out of the cell. Crawling forward, the corner of his eye noticed a strange soldier with a running start, jumped on his place. In less than a minute – there’s a direct hit.

In front of the entire company.

Seriously contused by Oleg covered with scraps of someone else’s blood-stained body. Soon came a truck, collecting the wounded, Oleg threw in the back. And the commander brought the piece of paper found in the company dugout: Oleg recorded at her parents address, which the Germans occupied Peterhof deported to forced labor in Latvia.

There came the funerals.

2020. A decorated soldier Oleg Sobolev. Photo: Sergey Emeljanovich veteran

Maria A. Sobolev refused to believe the Treasury paper. Began to write to Moscow, demanding the confirmation of the death of his son.

And – what a miracle! – she sent the address of his new appointment.

the night mother met me completely gray, and in 1941, when I left the house, she was a slender brunette, – says Oleg.

– Probably about a year she lived with funerals.

Oleg Dmitrievich like to live in war, when the danger of pointing a gun at you every minute?

– Not every night. Fear comes, thank God, only in some cases. Somehow standing at the post, darkness is such that a meter can not see anything. It seems that at any moment emerge from the darkness accursed hand and… I pulled out a grenade and stood, holding the ring. My father, when I left, said goodbye: “Fight, but don’t get captured!”. I remember this.

in spite of All deaths!

You went to the front at the age of 17 as a volunteer…

– Yes, in Peterhof formed a fighter battalion of the NKVD for combing in the front line, where a lot of staggering to all the saboteurs, spies. In the battalion there were old men Yes we are green youths. But after three months the front came very close and we had to take the first battle in the area of Strelna. My vision has always been unimportant, shot from the old English rifles, not sure if anyone. But when the mine exploded and the collar poured earth, I immediately thought: “Yes, it’s not like in the movies!”.

a Happy childhood. Michiel with his parents Dmitry G. and Maria Andreevna. Photo: from family archive

Left you on the front…

in may 1942, was a mortar man 50-th separate rifle brigade of the marine corps. And when the winter of ‘ 44 on the Leningrad front went on the offensive, and served in the infantry division, and fighter anti-tank division. Was a telephone operator, radio operator, gunner. Came to Berlin and Prague.

Is probably luck…

– And how without it? Funerals I had come earlier. In the same 44-m I am easily hurt. The nurse bandaged and put on the sleigh-a sledge, which carried the seriously wounded to the field hospital. I place the side got. Riding spurred, and flew over bumps. On the turn I fell. Sat a little, gathered together and tramped on. Somewhere ahead boomed, and see: I meet is the same sled, without a hat, with kineticom in hand and clearly not himself. Me: “What happened?”, and he said, “there, There…”. Go further, and there’s a dead horse and the bodies of the guys from the infirmary.

the Last 66 years Oleg lives in Dushanbe. Wanted to leave the army immediately after the Victory, but the command decided to hold in Germany, deceived a good salary in German marks. And where to return the yesterday’s student without a degree. Was a clerk with the right to work with top secret documents, accountant, inspector on the staff, even the head of the restaurant for the officers and their families.

In 1950 still quit. Arrived in Kuibyshev, began to understand the journalistic work – but all of a sudden was again drafted into the army, sent to the border troops. And so it was in Stalinabad, the current Dushanbe. After demobilization he worked in the Newspapers of Tajikistan, nearly half a century gave National information Agency “Khovar” under the government of the Republic, where he rose from a reporter to editor-in-chief.

Since 2012 retired. Very modest, even by Russian standards, with additional payments of approximately 2,000 somoni (approximately 15 thousand).

for Many years he did not see. Exactly. His eyes became the wife of Valentin Filip.

the Toast of the soldier

Most of the day Oleg Dmitrievich now spends in the chair. Next to the radio, a couple of tape recorders.

A tape, too?

– what! I write my own lyrics. Previously mentioned all, pen and paper. And now all in my head, then on tape slander. Two years ago, wrote the poem “Hard echo of the war”. Her famous Tajik actor and journalist Alisher Khodzhaev recently professionally voiced. And recently, wrote a poem called “New times”. Want a snippet?

– the mind’s Eye draw a figure –

Two thousand and thirtieth year.

Remember then about the Day of Victory,

If he winsItel pass?

Oh, to get us then to the meeting

With a new youth, even for a moment!

Personally will not work, of course –

our Voice will rise from the books.

what? Yes, that’s at least of these

I’m seventeen became a soldier,

a Couple of books put online.

To the word tickled like a bayonet!

He reads me all the new poems about war, about love, about a loved Leningrad. And suddenly astonishes:

– Well, fifty grams for the Victory?

Takes the pile, then makes a toast. And finally finishes me: “Learn, young people!”. The arm stack does the unthinkable pirouette around the shoulder from the bottom up: “Many would like to repeat, Yes bathed. Well, for Victory!”