Who is selected for training. Collection point and training. How long does the training last

And now - the first night in the barracks of my school. We were laid on mats near the toilet, and, of course, it was impossible to fall asleep ... The next morning we met with the authorities.

Here we need to make one more digression. The fact is that the entire second year I regularly attended classes at the military department. There we were taught to read maps, solve some strange logic problems and program in BASIC. At the same time, at least majors taught us, and even colonels, so I somehow got used to big stars.

In the army, things were different. Here the lieutenant was a big beast, and the major, the company commander, was generally a celestial. But most importantly, I quickly learned what an ensign is. Naturally, I had never met these animals before - except that I saw in the film with the idiotic title "In the Zone of Special Attention" how the cool Mihai Volontir wisely drops with his trademark gypsy accent: "I chose the difficult path - the path of ensign ..." . And that's it! And then - the crazy foreman! He yells, he wants something from you, but it is absolutely impossible to understand what. For some reason he doesn't like your boots, for some reason he doesn't like your belt, but with what? Boots like boots, a belt - what they gave out. Normally, he cannot explain, only intersperses screaming with obscenities.

The sergeants, on the other hand, chose the tactic of verbal mockery of the "dukhans": "You can Mashka by the thigh, military man!" At the same time, their deadly irony in my case went past the cash register - again, I could not understand what they were talking about. Then one of my new friends explained to me that in the army you can’t say “you can”, you have to say “allow me”. This was my first linguistic revelation - but by no means the last!

I must say that my dear mother equipped me to go to the army for glory - neither analgin, nor hand cream, nor manicure scissors, nor handkerchiefs were forgotten. Of course, a day later, all this was gone. The medicines were taken away by the sergeants (one can only guess why), the cream and other paraphernalia from the bedside table were immediately stolen by someone. Moreover, when I reported this unfortunate fact to the sergeant, he answered that, they say, "you steal from yourself - and sort it out yourself!" So I learned the first army truth: a soldier’s nightstand was given to a soldier in order to store the following objects in it: tooth powder that no one needs for hell, and also soldier soap- a certain Platonic idea of ​​soap, which, obviously, grunted merrily until recently. Well, even a toothbrush and a razor with exactly one (preferably slightly dull) blade. Everything!

Looking ahead, I can tell you one story from my service in the "combat". There we had one weirdo, a Muscovite, who read in the regulations that nowhere is it explicitly forbidden for a soldier to carry an umbrella - and he did. Not for long. Then he decided to hang a lock on his bedside table - and the foreman, madly having fun, knocked this lock off. Not because he was a bastard (on the contrary, he was a great man), but because service is service. It is necessary to serve on it, and not to stuff nightstands with all sorts of unnecessary stuff! (Something I'm starting to remind myself of a soldier Schweik ... I'll correct myself now ...)

There were two weeks before the oath, and these two weeks were just like a madhouse. In addition to the obviously necessary things, such as: drill and physical training, political studies and cleaning boots and badges, etc., I learned to sew and scraped stools with glass. The point here is this: a soldier’s wardrobe, if anyone is not in the know, consists of three robes: cotton, p / w and an overcoat. The first is a summer uniform, the second is a winter one, and an overcoat, comrades, is such an unlined coat. All these, I'm not afraid of this word, garments should have shoulder straps on their shoulders, buttonholes on their lapels, and "birdies" in their buttonholes (yes, I was a "flyer"). All this must be sewn - yourself.

Almost none of us knew how to sew. I knew how to sew on buttons, but shoulder straps were a real challenge for me! I sewed my first pair of shoulder straps (or shoulder straps?) with such superhuman strength that they creaked when walking. But they were still flowers. I almost sobbed over my overcoat ... it seemed so thick - well, how can you pierce it with such a small needle ?! Well - the mice cried, pricked themselves, but continued to sew on shoulder straps ...

About stools. At that time, the army stool industry produced its products painted: generous layers of eye-pleasing salad green paint elegantly flowed in large frozen drops from the seat and legs. When I saw the stool for the first time, it reminded me of Dali's paintings... alas, we had to destroy this beauty. For according to the charter, the stool must be unpainted! so in our free time we stubbornly scraped the stools with broken glass, adding to the wounds on our already ill-healthy hands.

About footcloths. Yes, they had to learn how to wind them. The secret here was to (I see that mostly girls read me, so I'll tell you) wrap the foot in an impromptu cocoon, and make a small mummy out of the lower leg, fastening it with a knot at the ankle. It's in theory. In practice, the "mummy" tends to quietly slide into the heel area and rub your leg. Everyone's feet were rubbed, without exception! Subsequently, our legs really became keratinized, and everything became a drum for us, but many months still had to pass before that ...

About hygiene. Soviet people didn't really like to bathe in general, so the last thing I cared about was that the bath was once a week (an hour before getting up). Not a real bath, of course - rather, a shower. After the shower, footcloths, shorts and T-shirts were given out - worn before by generations of Soviet military personnel and boiled to whiteness (bleach, obviously). There was no hot water in the barracks.

(when reading, do not eat, squeamish - do not read)

How many training military units do we have in Russia? And how many were in the Soviet Union? Do not count! They are all similar to each other, and all are different. I am not writing this because I know everything and am very smart - it’s just that there is always a certain similarity in everything military. Sometimes it's just crazy - remember how in the movie "Brother-2" the hero asked a taxi driver in America about his brother in Moscow? There you go, same here. It seems that the titles are different, and outwardly they are not very similar, but the habits of the bastards are eerily the same! Well, the difference is natural. Types of troops, georeferencing, climatic ... A lot of things.

My school was on the shore of the lake. As soon as they arrived, they explained: here, they say, Peter the Great built his amusing fleet. So it's a great honor to serve here and all that. What is the connection between the royal toys and our army profile, no one began to explain. But from the first day we were accustomed to this simple military logic, and we didn’t cry - we would have to serve in the Navy for a year more! But, what can not be taken away, there is beauty around: the lake is the same, you can see the churches from the barracks ...

However, these were almost all the pluses.

How does every army day begin? With cross and charging. It was only later, in the combat unit, after a year of service, I was sometimes, at will, "supposed" to play free and not go for a run, saying to the cleaning duty. And in the study - not a fig! Three kilometers run! And on the very first morning, I kindly remembered my coach Vladislav Vasilievich, who a year before in the sports camp also drove us six kame through the forest in the morning. Because handsome and good fellows were running next to me ... uh, no, it’s wrong - at first we all ran together, and then our platoon stretched out for an indecent distance, and the sergeant kicked those very handsome and good fellows who were running somewhere behind me without false modesty in the ass, as if politely explaining: “Be patient, dear, there is still a little left ...” And so it was on the first day ... on the second, fifth, tenth ... The biggest of us yearned most of all. As is often the case, he was nicknamed the Kid. Here the Kid fell most of all, because of him we most often stopped to do push-ups or run on the spot. There was no anger at him: firstly, he was not the only one - the same Fisa, thin as a worm, almost as tall as the Kid and it is not clear how he was called with his scoliosis, he didn’t always walk normally, but here he was running ..! And secondly, it was clear that the Kid was trying his best. Someone else would have been beaten up at night for all these joint push-ups, but the Kid? No, this is not the case. Yes, and he was big, in general ...

This happened not only in our platoon, of course. Everywhere there were their Kids and other Pencils. That's why she is a training school, that's why sergeants are here. It remained to be hoped that the breather would gradually get used to it and begin to give the desired result. But! As they say - there would be no happiness, but you know what helped.

Most of the drafted cadets - well, 50 percent, and, as a rule, urban ones - did not know how to wind footcloths. How about in the morning? "Company, 45 seconds - get up!" Some in the evening put footcloths on top of the tops of their boots and then simply put their foot in there - and so they ran! Again, I understand that if it were at least after a year of service, there the leg turns into a kind of crutch, it is not afraid of anything, I remember it myself. And then - after all, almost babies from the city arrived! Here is the result: calluses, bloody, and sometimes terrible, all over the foot. And the climate here was ... and hell knows, how scientific it is, but the humidity because of this very lake was just awesome! As a result: the legs began to rot. And hands. Someone will gnaw a burr (I confess, I was one of them), someone will scratch - this is where suppuration appears.

As a result, almost the same half of the training in the morning walked around the parade ground in slippers - yes, the most natural leatherette slippers. And what if the legs are all in sores? Doctor ordered! They also went to the dining room, to various studies and events. It would be funny if it weren’t sad, because, for example, you can’t go to the outfit in the household yard in slippers, there the pigs are almost knee-deep (not a pig - a man) shit, and you need to run, clean it all up quickly. Or a guard - you can’t climb a tower with a machine gun in slippers. Our company somehow stood on guard, so we got caught in a downpour, and one of them had the roof moved off on the tower - in the sense, on his own, and not on the tower. He began to shoot - it seemed that the enemy was coming. It's good that it was not far from the duty room, they heard and quickly changed the dude. But at least he was not cold, he was in boots ...

In general, we began to squabble among ourselves, and the authorities at the top realized that this time - and it has always been like this, how long the school has been standing - there are too many orphans and miserable people. In our company, a local served, straight from the city that was nearby, he told us a lot - he got here by pull, he went on dismissal almost every weekend, some news reached him. Naturally, he did not suffer from any purulent deeds - this concerned only new arrivals, and, as the sergeants explained, for the first couple of months, then the body was rebuilt and used to it. So the local told me: the authorities ran into the medical unit - it’s crazy to wait for “perestroika”, smear everyone with whatever you can smear, but so that in a week! ..

And I must say, in the medical unit there was another plus, rare for training. There was SHE. I don’t remember for a long time what her name was, like Natasha, and who she was there - a nurse or a doctor. I remember that a doctor as young as she worked with her, also such an Apollo, but he was interested in us, cadets, only in the sense that it was not very painful to do what procedure - to anoint the wound, to make a bandage, if it's bloody, or - no one eats? exactly? - remove the skin if the extreme phalanx on the fingers is swollen from pus, and, having processed all this, wrap it up. Right now I am writing and remembering ... brr, it was like that on one hand on all fingers. Horror, blood is flowing, the head is spinning!

So what am I on about? BUT! There was SHE. And now let Natasha come up to you, speak to you with her angelic voice, look at you affectionately - and that's it, there is no pain, no dizziness. Only a beautiful face in front of you ... And they are already knocking on the door: hey, bro, don’t sit too long, you’ve already got everything wrapped up there, and everyone wants to let Natasha look again.

By the way, I will not rule out that someone deliberately picked something for themselves there, just to once again come to the medical unit and take a look at our Madonna. But the main part, to which I include myself, was enough of the existing one - and this despite the fact that I had no problems with my legs. But then the fingers let us down, he was a sinner, he loved to bite the burrs before the army. Since then, there has been no such habit.

It is curious that in addition to us, the cadets, some students of the ensign school, which was located on the same territory, involuntarily walked in slippers. It wasn’t a sin to laugh at them: future “pieces”, adult (for us then) uncles, some are completely muzzle-turners, chapa in slippers like boys!

Someone, after reading the above, will probably think something worthless: yeah, they went to stare at a young girl, and then at night or somewhere quieter they did whatever they got, God forgive me? I risk disappointment. Because, firstly, there are no quiet places in the classroom. The commanders will not leave you alone for a long time. And at night, the cadet, usually tired during the day, sleeps. And even if he wanted to ... Personally, we had bunk iron beds, set two in a row, and if someone moved rhythmically in the middle of the night, he would instantly wake up all his neighbors. But this is not the main thing. Because, and secondly, there is bromine in the army.

Much later, I read a lot about the fact that bromine is a poison, that this cannot be, because this can never be. I will not argue. I’ll just say that the jelly that they gave us at least once a day had some kind of metallic taste - this is it. Officers (not sergeants, no!) told us that in order to avoid any nonsense, bromine is added to our food and drink - these are two. For the entire time of training - and I'm talking only about the period of service in the educational unit - nothing happened to me that should happen to a young man who does not have constant sexual contacts - these are three. And not only me. At the same time, I - and again not only - saw beautiful girls and women, wrote letters to my beloved, who remained in civilian life. And nothing! Thank God it didn't affect anything. Because I felt the first signs of the returning male power already on the train, when we were traveling from training to the combat unit, and still - pah-pah-pah! She doesn't leave me. So to believe in bromine or not to believe - it's up to everyone to decide for themselves.

However, everything eventually passes. And so our sores gradually dragged on. And marches, field training sessions, field training were added to the crosses. Sometimes even my trained body could not bear it. There were few people like me who went in for sports in civilian life in our platoon - all athletes were immediately selected for sergeant platoons. I was “lucky”: when I was being escorted to the army, at the station, my son-in-law came to terms with a senior sergeant, who took us along with an officer. Like, so and so, normal guy, leave yourself ... something like that. So I stayed in his platoon. And the “old”, as they called the senior sergeant by rank and call, treated me quite normally, even suggested to the platoon commander not to take anyone from the sergeant platoon, but to leave me in training. The platoon commander was not opposed, and addressed the company commander with this proposal. He called me for a conversation, tormented me for about ten minutes, and gave the go-ahead. After that, a local foreman began to court me. At first I could not understand what the old “piece” needed - purely male interest fell away, in my opinion, for sure, and in the future I could not manage the supply room, that is, the company warehouse, which is subordinate to the foreman of the company. Everything turned out to be prosaic: the old ensign, having found out how much I know about the situation in terms of relations between cadets in the company - and I had acquaintances or countrymen in all platoons - suggested that I make a list of "teams"! For those who did not serve, I will explain: teams are called groups of soldiers leaving training for one or another military unit. Here the foreman, with the blessing of the commander, suggested: draw "teams" of several people - according to interests, compatriots, friendship, etc., etc. So that it would be convenient for cadets to travel further along the distribution with their loved ones. It's all a secret, but...

Naturally, I blabbed the secret to my buddies that same evening. And I made the first list pretty quickly. And then the problems started. Someone did not want to offend, somewhere the group turned out to be too large, and someone was lonely and unfriendly. And sometimes there was not enough time - "army policy" intervened.

The second sergeant in our platoon, the younger one, was not at all happy that I was under such care from the "old" and command. He was from Odessa, but not funny at all, rather shitty. It was said that his fellow countrymen, with whom he was drafted into this training, before leaving, he was firmly thrashed in the end for some kind of offense. And so he started to bully me. Finding reasons in the army is like two fingers ... then you know. For example, he put me on guard duty - this is when to breed and collect guards. Don't sleep, don't rest. It became a little sad, but there was no point in complaining - everything seemed to be according to the Charter, and it was not customary to complain once again in the army. I had to "mow". One great way to do this came to light when every platoon began issuing a "Combat Leaflet." It listed all sorts of different news in the platoon that had happened over a period of time - like a week. At first, he appointed the PL of the platoon commander himself to write, but everything turned out somehow not good. And then one day the issue was entrusted to me and my sidekick Sanya from Vyatka. Seeing the result - and we took first place, even the commanders admired! - the platoon commander decided: “That's it, from now on, only you do all the BC!” Sanya was great at drawing, and in my technical school, drawing was a specialized subject, thanks to which I wrote in a chic font (thank you, Natalya Nikolaevna!). Good! All for visiting UZ - and we write BL. Or the platoon is driven once again to the cross - and we are creating!

But the Odessa sergeant, of course, did not like it. And he drove me along the outfits - be healthy! Standing “on the bedside table” or being on duty in the company, at night, I imagined how I would serve for half a year with this freak. It is clear that he, having become "old", will blame everything on me. And all the shoals will be mine. Hapnu grief, fact. But also to refuse sergeantry was fraught. By that time, I had formed almost all the "teams", and if I refused the perspective voiced by the leadership to me - what would they say to me then?

This is how we stood one autumn night with a cadet from another platoon. He was on duty "on the bedside table", I was on duty in the company. For some reason, we decided to look into this nightstand itself. Usually, letters that came to cadets were put on or in it. “What if there is something there?” - we decided and opened the box. There were indeed several letters. Most of the stamps were old and with names unknown to us in the lines “To” - apparently, their addressees had already left school. And one was relatively fresh. It interested us also because it was addressed to "A Soldier I Didn't Know" and was very plump.

A photo? we shouted together into the night.

Stepping closer to the duty lamp, I opened the envelope. Leaving the letter for later, I took out the photograph. I wish I hadn't been in such a hurry! The girl pictured there was… how can I put it mildly? - not very pretty.

Well, what is there? a colleague asked lustfully.

See for yourself, - I handed him a photo. While he was horrified, I glanced over the letter. Blah blah blah, I don’t know you, but I want to get to know you, so I’m all like that, from there, such and such interests and other things. I am attaching a photo. “It would be better if I didn’t put it in yet ...” I gave the letter to the orderly.

There is nothing for the women to do, - he said, after reading the letter. And more careful than me. - What are we going to do, tear it up and throw it away?

Break those. And give me this with a photo for now.

Perhaps he misunderstood me. Or thought something bad. But I got an idea.

Sometimes we had the so-called "free time". It was possible to hem a fresh collar, write home or a letter to your beloved. I went up to the platoon commander, a young starley with sly eyes and a hussar mustache, and suggested, by order of command, to take "free time" differently. He liked the idea. The platoon, as always, sat on stools in their nook, and the platoon commander, calling me, said:

In short, this is what we are doing now. And how - here he will explain.

I showed everyone a photograph of the girl and explained that she was lonely and unhappy. After waiting for the wave of indiscreet laughter and similar remarks to subside, I read her letter aloud and suggested that everyone - and there were 30 of us, if I'm not mistaken - write her an answer. With any words, any wishes, politely and correctly, so that the lady would be pleased. Not necessarily from myself personally - let the author be anyone in my dreams!

Here you are, our little thing, - I turned to our two smallest cadets, whose overall height slightly exceeded the height of the Kid, - be giants in letters, why not?

The "giants" blushed and nodded in unison.

A sergeant from Odessa watched everything that was happening from afar. He clearly did not like all this, but what could he do when, together with everyone else, he wrote letters to the platoon commander, scratching his mustache with a pen, and the “old”, coming from somewhere from the street, lamented for a long time that he had not found this letter earlier and did not answer the unknown "Belladonna".

Everyone wrote letters, I even managed to write two. Very slowly, carefully, everyone wrote the correct delivery address on the envelopes. I really wanted to know what the girl felt when she received all our correspondence ...

And after the next outfit, I realized that it would be very difficult for me in training. Perhaps someone will accuse me of being afraid of difficulties, but both then and now, after years, I believe that I did the right thing. And when, with a heavy heart, I went up to the old ensign and told him that I did not want to remain a sergeant in the company, and I was ready to tell the company commander (“old” and the platoon commander, I had already said everything before), he looked at me wearily, sighed and answered:

You yourself have chosen this path. And for that I'll put you in the polar bears...

Thanks to him, I got into the very “team” in which all the lonely and unfriendly were gathered. We were picked up and taken for several days, with a change. But the old “piece” made a mistake in something, and I never saw polar bears. As a week later I did not see my fellow travelers, whom fate scattered in different parts. I saw... Ukraine. And he served in the army for only 645 days instead of the prescribed 732, which is included in the full two years.

That school, as far as I know, no longer exists. Everything has been demolished, and cottages stand in place of the barracks. And then! Location on the lake, churches around. The beauty…

P.S. Lesson in place! And the cottages are nearby. What to do - XXI century))) Thanks for the information

What is a year in the army like? What happens to a soldier during these 365 days? What is he going through and what is he preparing for?

Today I want to tell you about what a year in the army consists of for a conscript. Of course, the sequence of events described in this article is not true for everyone. It is a specific case for me and my comrades in the Training Battalion of junior specialists of the VI ZhDV and VOSO.

But I assure you that after talking with many comrades, friends and acquaintances who have already served or are serving now, the sequence described in this article is as close to the truth as possible. To what we go through in 1 year in the army really.

Right now about what we have already been through, what we are doing now, and what lies ahead for us.

KMB or Young Fighter Course

When I learned about the meaning of this concept for the first time in my life, I had such a picture before my eyes.

Over there, on the left in the distance - it's me!

I, with all the ammunition, weapons, body armor and full equipment, run 10/20/30 km with my comrades. We run through the fields, jump over obstacles, crawl under barbed wire in the rain. Our clothes are dirty like pigs in a pen and so on ... In general, everything is like in American films about fur seals.

Probably, I even partially prepared for this. But that was exactly until the moment when I found out that there is a quiet hour in the army, and in the dining room they give 2 dishes to choose from. After that, my expectations from the army changed significantly. Including about KMB.

Until recently, I did not believe that we would have it. However, I and my friends had to take this course.

In my case, it lasted 5 weeks. Some have less, some have more. The maximum term of the course of a young fighter was with my colleagues, who were called up on June 2.

The whole point is that KMB goes to the oath. We took the oath on August 1st. Therefore, some KMB had not 1, but 2 months.

So what is this young fighter course now?

To be honest, it's not at all what I expected. We didn't have any forced marches or anything like that.

Our KMB consisted of the following elements:

• Drill.

Where without her. The basis of army life is drill training. It's like a deadlift for bodybuilders. All free time in the first month was given to the drill. And rightly so. We still couldn't walk. But practice works wonders!

• Cramming of the Statutes.

By the way. For those who don't know. There are more charters in the RF Armed Forces than one. A lot more! That is why in our KMB special attention was paid to the acquaintance and analysis of individual chapters of the statutes. General military, drill, disciplinary and others.

• General military disciplines.

As I said in one of my articles, our studies began already on the third day of service. And then the second.

• Shooting.

My favorite day in the first month. It was unbelievably cool! Shot from AK-74. I got a combat machine and 6 rounds. Out of 60 possible points, I knocked out 56. I am waiting for the next shooting to understand whether this figure was an accident ...

In general, I don’t remember anything else special. Study took up most of the time. So it was before the oath, and after taking the oath, our life has changed somewhat.

Training

Someone calls "training" just the period when we had KMB - the first month of service before the oath. Perhaps it is. But I can’t name the current period of service otherwise. All due to the fact that now there is even more study!

Couples go every day except Sunday, from 09.00 to 16.30 minimum. With a lunch break, of course. But still!

This is a real study in the truest sense of the word. Stroeva has become many times smaller, and instead of the Charters, we now read each other books with poems by foreign poets in the evenings.

All due to the fact that someone swore during the day, and this was heard by the responsible officer.

Yesterday, by the way, it was. As many as 4 delinquents took turns reading 3 verses in front of the whole company. With such intonation, so sincerely! You should have heard it...

In addition to more studies, there were more “workers”. Guys are now actively used in the canteen, in warehouses, at individual institute facilities, and in general for little things. For example, paint the parade ground. The job is responsible. It seems to be simple, but it takes all day.

As the officers told us: “Until you have taken the oath, we cannot demand practically anything from you. Here's how you get…”

And so it turns out. Now the soldiers here make up the free labor force.

Exams

I'm talking to you. This is a real university, school and army together. All in one. Exams will be in each discipline around the end of October - beginning of November 2015. By November 5, I think, 3 out of 4 companies will have already passed all the exams. And then we all wait...

High school graduation

This event is more like an oath. At least those that take place on a large parade ground and in the presence of parents.

Only instead of the sacred words of the oath, we will receive diplomas on the development of a specialty, and some will get shoulder straps of junior sergeants.

Here's how it went half a year ago.

Distribution

Literally the next day after graduation, distribution to the troops will begin.

The scheme is approximately the same as I described in my article about the first day in the army with the "purchase" of conscripts in the unit. Only here buyers will come to our unit and pick up from here. In the rest - everything is the same.

Immediately after the distribution, or even during it, recruits will drive up to our unit. From the very first day of their arrival, we will all become And the real one will begin. Only not the one you thought of, but the real one described in my article.

Service in the troops

At this point, I have so far little information. There are only a few acquaintances who have already managed to leave for the troops. They talk about how they spend the whole day on the "work".

That is, they paint, repair, clean, clean, build. What they just don't do. After all, we are soldiers. We must know everything!

military unit in Red village is considered top for our guys. It is actively promoted by officers, sergeants, and military personnel themselves. Everyone wants to go there. But when I ask what to do there, and why it is good, I don’t get a reasoned answer.

One of my good friend-colleagues once said that there is an opportunity to serve at the checkpoint in that unit. Kind of a security guard. What a good place, in my opinion. You sit quietly, you look at the cameras. Or even more to a computer with internet. Coffee/tea/water. Everything a soldier needs to be happy!

I also know some information about a military unit 40 km from Moscow. called 2nd Guards Taman Motor Rifle Division. If you do not go into details, then "Guards" means that its soldiers, at one time, distinguished themselves in the battles for the Motherland for the better.

As for the service there, I had a good impression of it. I even consider it an elite part.

The impression was formed on the basis of communication with three officers from there. It's not at all like ours.

I would say that we have a kindergarten here compared to what is happening there. They have real anxiety rises. With running around, withdrawing equipment and so on. This event takes half a night, not 1 hour, as we had here.

Plus, 29 people from ours were taken to this division. They say it's better there than here. Better is a loose concept, of course.

For example, I like it here! ;-)

By the way, about me. The last point about distribution will not affect me the way it will affect my friends. They will disperse to different parts of the country, to different branches and types of troops.

And I will stay here to continue my service until the demobilization. And you know what? I'm happy about it!

Of course, everything has its pros and cons. But here I found more pluses for myself than I could find for military service.

However, there are still a few weeks before distribution. Therefore, you can think about everything.

By the way, my predecessor himself expressed a desire and left for distribution to the troops, no matter how my commanders asked him to stay here. And on the second day, he sent an SMS to my boss with the text: “I should not have done this.”

Pretty instructive story, don't you think? But he took the place of the one who rushed there with all his might!

This is what happens in our lives. Friends, once again I want to recall one of the laws of our life, which I understood precisely thanks to the army: “Everything that is done is all for the better!”

I wish you every day better than the previous one, see you soon!