What mistake did the legendary pilot Maresyev make? The feat of Alexei Maresyev is not fiction! Rules of life from the hero Maresyev

At the age of fifteen, Anna Stepanovna’s son had his eye removed as a result of an injury. Over the years, his vision only worsened, but the boy, now an adult man, was never given disability. Now my vision has begun to deteriorate sharply. One eye cannot withstand the load. They live at a small station in the Nekrasovsky district Yaroslavl region. It is impossible to get a job, especially for a half-blind person. And he still has a few years left before retirement. Anna Stepanovna and her son visited doctors and lawyers. Everywhere - refusal.

“Please answer whether it is possible to obtain disability for him or not. If possible, then how?” she asks in a letter to the editor.

Another letter from Tatyana Vsevolodovna Noskova from Olenegorsk Murmansk region. “Many of the categories of people with a disability group have to undergo re-examination and confirm it every year. The absurdity of some situations is obvious. For example, a person who has received a severe injury to his limbs or does not have them is forced to undergo an annual medical and social examination and confirm this fact. Cases have become more frequent and, one might say, depriving people of their disability group has become a practice. The fact of the disease occurs and is obvious, but the disability group is removed regardless of whether it is a child or an adult. The adult is asked to “get a job,” and the child’s parents are advised to “solve the problems themselves.” A person receiving a penny disability benefit is also deprived of benefits for paying for utilities, purchasing medicine, travel, free kindergarten and speech therapy classes, if this is a child. And there are those who are left without any means of subsistence, without a piece of bread, since there is no old-age pension yet, and a sick person is no longer able to do physical labor.”

Unfortunately, letters to the editor with a similar formulation of the problem are not isolated. Exhausted from going to doctors' offices to collect the necessary certificates, extracts, and not receiving or not confirming their disability, infirm people or their loved ones begin to suspect that workers of social and medical commissions are deliberately so zealously limiting the number of citizens receiving the group. And the followers of Hippocrates do this not because of bad character, but to carry out orders coming from higher bureaucratic offices. There is a crisis in the country, accession to the WTO is on the horizon, so they are saving on the poorest, weakest citizens of Russia: the sooner there are fewer of them, the sooner we will get rid of the problems.

We asked the candidate of medical sciences, head of the branch of Bureau No. 49 of the Federal government agency“Moscow Main Bureau of Medical and Social Expertise” (BMSE) (formerly they were called VTECs) Victoria Shilovich.

In her opinion, indeed, the problem is very acute, and each patient who comes for examination must be worked individually. “The whole point, in my opinion, is the lack of clarity, the imperfect organization of the system of interaction between health care facilities and the ITU bureau,” says my interlocutor. - And if there is still order in Moscow, and if necessary, citizens can achieve a review of the results, then in the regions this can be more difficult to do. The reasons are the low qualifications of doctors or the absence of specialists in this field at all, there is no necessary medical examination, the financial insolvency of citizens who do not have the opportunity to travel at their own expense and seek justice in higher authorities, or even simply ignorance of their rights. This is why it is so necessary to carry out a full medical examination and correct design documents are already at the level of district and village clinics.”

Victoria Arkadyevna shows a referral for a medical and social examination received by an applicant for disability in one of the capital’s district clinics: “Look, even in Moscow there are examples of unprofessionally prepared documents.” I understand: the patient had one kidney removed two years ago. In the medical “runner” form 088 there is an extract from an ophthalmologist, otolaryngologist, gynecologist and other specialists. How much effort does a person tormented by illnesses have to put in to see so many doctors in a limited time?! And in the end? The most important thing, on the basis of which he should be given or not given a disability group, is that the result of a biochemical blood test (creatinine and urea levels) is not indicated in the extract. “Formally, we are obliged to send the person back to the clinic at the place of residence for further examination,” explains Victoria Shilovich.

I give examples from letters from our readers, where they are perplexed why there are cases where a person with an amputated arm or leg, removed by a kidney or lung, which, of course, does not form again, nevertheless, after a year, the disability group is reduced or removed altogether . It turns out that such actions of experts are regulated by certain rules. Let's say a patient's leg is amputated. He receives the first group for a year and is sent to rehabilitation at his place of residence. If after a year or two the disabled person masters the prosthesis and operates it quite successfully, his group is revised based on the degree of existing functional impairment. In a word, in such a case, a real person, Alexei Petrovich Maresyev, would not be given a disability under current conditions. But Maresyev is rather an exception to the rule. The majority of disabled people, many of whom old age, burdened by others serious illnesses, and such feats are simply beyond their capabilities. And let’s be honest, today disability benefits for some families are almost the only way to survive.

Victoria Arkadyevna gives an example from her practice. A certain patient lost his voice after cancer surgery on his throat. He was assigned a second disability group. Himself, being a doctor and an advanced person, he used his own savings to go to Germany and buy an expensive voice apparatus there. After the operation and installation of this device, I was able to speak independently. And what do you think? The group was not assigned to him. It is believed that the patient has been completely rehabilitated.

As a rule, even in the most seemingly hopeless cases, at first the group is given for a year and the patient is re-examined annually. Indeed, over time, for example, one eye or one kidney successfully takes over the functions of the missing organ, and the person does not experience any discomfort. But if the remaining organ could not fully earn “for two,” then the patient is given a disability group for life and is not tormented by annual re-examinations. However, it sometimes takes up to three to five years to confirm that rehabilitation is impossible.

The situation is particularly concerning with the medical and social examination of military personnel. Often there is a belated referral of former military personnel to MTU. The late referral is due to the fact that the military personnel, after the conclusion of the Military Military Commission on unfitness for military service decide first housing issues and only then do they issue a referral to ITU.

And what are the conditions in which experts are forced to work and patients, exhausted from sitting for many hours, are forced to wait for their turn?! So, the BMSE where we are talking is located in a dilapidated outbuilding of city hospital No. 23 (named Medsantrud, by the way). Two small rooms are equipped for receiving patients. People wait their turn in a tiny waiting room, where about a dozen chairs are pressed closely together. Those who did not have enough seats sat on the windowsills or waited in the courtyard. Changing rooms, toilets in this medical institution No. If, as they say, you are really impatient, citizens are invited to run to one of the hospital buildings. With the norm being ten to fifteen people, experts sometimes have to hire almost twice as many per shift. And, please note, there are no additional payments for such processing.

Starting this year, the law on autonomous institutions, that is, budget educational, medical, cultural organizations will have to earn money for their own existence, including through the provision of commercial services to the population. Naturally, I am interested: will this somehow affect the work of the bureau of medical and social examinations? Victoria Arkadyevna just shrugs: “How do you imagine this? A person comes to us to receive a disability group, and we give him a price list: for the third group - such and such an amount, for the second - a little more, but for the first - you will have to fork out in full. No, I hope such innovations will not affect us. - But, after thinking, he adds: - Although it would be possible to organize consultations at the BMSE for clinic doctors who, at the very first stage, are preparing documents for examination. Because, I repeat, many of them send patients to us with illiterate statements, which creates additional difficulties for us and causes misunderstandings among patients. But if the documents are drawn up professionally, if the diagnosis is accurately indicated, not a single expert will be able to either underestimate or overestimate the group, or remove it or not give it at all. It is necessary, in my opinion, and methodological literature. However, solving such problems is already within the competence of the health department. The question, of course, comes down to who will take on the financing. this kind consultations, publication of manuals, etc.”

Regarding the question asked in their letters by a pensioner from the Yaroslavl region and many others who, in their opinion, have not achieved a legal disability group at their place of residence, they need to send copies of documents, research results, answers from the regional branches of the BMSE to Moscow , to the Federal Bureau of Medical and Social Expertise at the address: st. Susanina, house 3. If necessary, they will be called to Moscow for a final examination. But all expenses are at your own expense.

Tatiana Morozova

Is everything in the book as it was in life? - Alexey Petrovich Maresyev asks again. - Ninety-nine percent. Since Boris Polevoy wrote a novel, and not a documentary, there are places in it where he added something of his own, changed...
It took me eighteen days to get to my people. Polevoy described them colorfully, and, as they say, perfectly. And fear because of the broken feet, and burning pain, and terrible hunger... He drank it all. And there was a dead bear, the victim of which I almost became. Sometimes they say to me: how were you hungry if there was so much bear meat? Oh, I wish I knew that I would have to drag myself for so long. And the rest of the pictures, I swear, are from life. He wrote what he told Boris Polevoy.
They also often ask: did I have a girlfriend, Olya (as in the book), who bombarded me with letters while I was in the hospital? Yes, I had a girlfriend, I answer, I met her, walked around Kamyshin when I worked there before the army. But the novel described in the book is not mine, maybe even a novel by Boris Polevoy himself. I once expressed this assumption to a wide audience in the presence of the writer himself. He smiled and did not respond to my attack.
- And there was no dancing in the hospital, as it is described in the novel, beautifully shown in the film? Recently in popular TV show"Old Apartment" was performed by the former nurse from the Burdenko Hospital and, recalling those years, said that there was no time for dancing...
- But there were dances and I still remember them. But that woman from the "Old Apartment" really didn't teach me how to dance. After all, she is from the Burdenko hospital, where I never stayed. My main hospital is the one on Babushkinsky Lane. There the doctors raised me to my feet, there the nurses looked after me. And I remember their faces well.
- So you danced, but with other girls?
- Don’t rush, I’ll tell you everything in order. When my legs began to heal, I began to learn to walk on prosthetics. First - with crutches, then he moved a chair in front of him, holding himself near it, then step by step - without any outside help. I began to move, and some kind of vigor appeared. Then he began to walk with a stick. Several days passed - I went to the doctor: will you allow me to go outside?
I still remember my exit into the hospital courtyard. I’m already used to parquet, you feel the dentures, but softly, but here with your whole body you feel every unevenness, every pebble. But don’t pass! There is a log lying there, a small one, I think we need to step over it, there will be many like it in life. I stepped over and didn't fall. And so day after day I approached healthy people. By the way, then the thought often began to come to me: why not try those leg movements that are necessary for a pilot in flight.
- Was this all before the dance?
- Before dancing, before dancing. What's surprising here? After all, I was a pilot. And, of course, I wanted to feel at least a little, to experience what I had to do hundreds of times. What I did? He placed two chairs in front of him, tucked his dentures between them, and moved them. Moreover, he set the task - to move the chairs with an accuracy of a centimeter.
When I left the hospital, I went to a rehabilitation center. It was located in the village of Sudakovo near Moscow, on the former estate of Savva Morozov. The pilots improved their health there. There are more opportunities to master prosthetics. I took walks in the forest, and this meant going down into a hollow, rising out of it, walking through dead wood... If in the hospital I stepped over a log for the first time, here I climbed over a huge tree. Over time, I began to feel confident. This is where I came to dance. I'll tell you about them if they interest you that much.
IN rehabilitation center there was a club, all the pilots went to dances. I think: why am I worse? By the way, when my legs were intact, I danced well. In a word, I went to the club. I go up to a girl, a cultural worker, and ask her straight away: “Will you teach me to dance?” She: “Why are you kidding me?” And yet he persuaded her. The two of us went into the hall, and I started dancing with her. But, as they say, the music didn’t play for long - he stepped on her foot. With a prosthesis. The girl squealed. I’m uncomfortable, but I don’t want to give up. I say: “Wait a little.” I’m running, so to speak, to the ward. There were four of us lying there. I tell one guy: “Seryozha, put on your boots, let’s go to the club.” He was taken aback: “Why?” "We'll learn to dance." Sergei put on his boots, let's go. We asked the girl to play for us and started dancing. So day two. And soon I was already going to dances, like everyone else, dancing with the girls. I was apprehensive, though, afraid to step on my feet.
- Alexey Petrovich, and the commissioner who helped you in Hard time after the operation to withstand, to believe in one’s strength and whose image Boris Polevoy so vividly painted in his novel, was in life?
- There was such a person - a battalion commissar who was lying next to me in the hospital. Boris Polevoy holds the rank of regimental commissar. Huge mental strength Human. And he did for me, as I later realized, a lot, maybe even more than what is written in the novel.
Just one example. After the amputation of my legs, they injected me at night and gave me a sedative. And this is nothing more than drugs. He says to me: Alexey, you need to wean yourself from such support, you will die. And then I told the doctors: stop calming me down. Yes, the commissioner really existed in life. It's a pity he died.
- Now about how you were accepted into the regiment.
- It was a burning question for me. How worried I was then! Why? I was afraid that the regiment pilots would not accept me. Who will decide to fly with me on a mission? He arrived in the regiment when it was on the nose Battle of Kursk. The fight in the air was fierce. It is clear that the pilot who took me as his wingman would have taken a great risk.
And the regiment commander left me at the airfield. Groups of fighters went on combat missions, but I stayed behind. I was allowed to rise above the airfield at the approximate time of our planes' return - to cover their landing. I understood and did not understand the regiment commander. One day I chose the moment and turned to him for permission to go into battle. The regiment became a guards regiment, we were given badges, and I was placed in the general rank. I did not participate in a single battle, and therefore it was inconvenient for me to receive a guards badge. When the presentation was over, I left the ranks and turned to the regiment commander: “Please send me into battle, I’m tired of flying over the airfield.” The regiment commander said only one thing in response to my harshness: “Get into formation.”
It’s good that captain Alexander Chislov, who sympathized with me, was in the regiment. Otherwise, they would have written me off over time, not allowing me to meet the fascists again. He saw how worried I was, and therefore offered to fly with him. I was lucky. I destroyed the Me-109, and in front of the commander’s eyes. My confidence increased after that.
In a word, Alexander Chislov is mine Godfather. Later I found out that the regiment commander told him before the flight, they say, don’t get into a fight too much, take care of your wingman. Then he flew with Chislovy again. And again successfully. That's how I fit into the team. And no one could blame me for being a burden in the regiment.
- Was it difficult to fight with prostheses?
- In battle there is no time for feelings, no time for sensations. I felt all the delights of my position after the battle, or rather, in the evening, when I was already falling off my feet. I’m not bragging when I say that there’s no time for sensations in battle. I rely on real facts. After all, with prosthetics he shot down seven enemy planes - that’s a lot. A?
- How do you assess the skill of German pilots?
- Very high. They fought no weaker than us. But there were also weak ones among them. Once I encountered a yellowthroat (the Germans painted the planes of young pilots with yellow paint so that they would come to their aid first). It was over the Demyansk cauldron. A couple met. There was no communication with the presenter, but we agreed with him in advance on how we would act. And then I see: the German pilot in front of me made a coup and walked so slowly. I'm following him. Turn, and he's ready.
-Have you ever met German pilots on the ground?
- Only after the war. In Hungary. An international conference was taking place there. And then one of the organizers says: supposedly, former German pilots are interested in you. We sat down at the table. "Did you fly without legs?" - I hear the question. “Yes, I flew,” I answer. “And I shot down seven more of your planes.” The German, the leader of the group, grimaced. I see that I said it too rudely, and corrected myself: “We need to stop fighting, not allow war.” The discussion didn’t work out, but we said our goodbyes nicely.
- In 1944, when the war was not yet over, you were transferred from the fighter aviation regiment to the administration of Air Force universities? How did it happen?
- As I already said, I fit into the regiment’s team, but the workload increased. And therefore, when I received an offer to become an inspector-pilot, I agreed. But he never asked anyone about this.
-Where did you celebrate Victory Day?
- In bed with nettle fever. This happens. At that time we were given American stew. I ate half the jar, saved half the jar and finished with it the next morning. There was no refrigerator, and apparently spring had done its work. A day later, a rash all over the body. I'm going to the doctor...
- When last time ever sat at the controls of an airplane?
- If I’m not mistaken, this was in the early fifties, back under Stalin, or more precisely, when Vasily Stalin was in charge of aviation in the Moscow Military District. I turned to him with a request (we were on first name terms) to allow me to fly on jet planes. He was confused: why do you need jet planes, but in the end he agreed to help. However, nothing came of the idea. And yet, with his help, I managed to fly piston airplanes. There was a special Air Force school in Moscow, but there weren’t enough planes. With the help of Vasily Stalin, I knocked out a Po-2 for her and made several flights at the school as an instructor pilot. This is where my heavenly epic ended.
- Never been drawn to the sky again?!
- It was pulling. But I already said that it was not so easy to take the helm again. If you are not in the ranks, who will entrust you with the helm? Yes, and other things appeared, then I got married.
- When?
- Immediately after the war. I worked as an inspector-pilot for fighter schools in the Air Force University Directorate. And then one day I come to the dining room and see... Yes, the one I was looking for. True, she seemed to me, as they say today, too cool, she worked in the capital repairs department. And, as it later turned out, she had a fiancé. But she couldn’t resist my pressure of courtship. Galina Viktorovna and I have been living together for almost 55 years. I am grateful to fate for connecting me with wonderful person. Together they raised two sons - Victor and Alexey.
- Alexey Petrovich, please clarify your relationship with Boris Polev. They say that after you met the writer in the dugout, talked all night, he promised that an essay about you would soon appear in the Pravda newspaper. But the essay did not appear, since Goebbels was spreading misinformation at that time, saying that Russia’s days were numbered, only cripples were fighting at the front, and the editorial board did not dare to publish Polevoy. At your next meeting, you had an altercation.
- It's a story, nothing more. I did not and do not have any grudges against Boris Nikolaevich Polevoy. Our first meeting took place in '43, the second, it was also described by Polevoy in the afterword, in '46, after the novel was published in the magazine "October". The meeting was joyful and interesting for both. I told him my biography. By the way, in the afterword to the book edition, he named my real last name - Maresyev, and not Meresyev, as in literary hero. And this fact: Polevoy looked for me after the war, but did not find me. Apparently, I had quit by that time, and his calls to the Main Personnel Directorate yielded nothing. So I found it first. I heard that his novel was being read on the radio, called Pravda and immediately received a phone number.
We maintained good relations until last days writer's life. We met with him often, especially since both were members of the Peace Committee. We often sat together at meetings, went on business trips together, even to the United States. It would probably be wrong to say that we were great friends, but the relationship, I repeat, was maintained by the kindest. We often called each other, I was at his birthday party more than once.
- By your example, Alexey Petrovich, entire generations of Soviet boys were raised. What was the attitude of the authorities towards you? Have you met with senior managers states?
- What attitude should they have towards me? The most common thing. I didn’t ask anyone for anything, I didn’t ask for any honors. After the war, I studied and worked all the time. In 1952 he graduated from the Higher Party School under the CPSU Central Committee, four years later - graduate school at the Academy social sciences. Since 1956 - in the Soviet War Veterans Committee.
WITH strongmen of the world I only met at work. For example, with the chairmen of the Council of Ministers of the USSR Alexei Nikolaevich Kosygin, with Nikolai Aleksandrovich Tikhonov, when they received veteran delegations. Grechko communicated with Marshal Andrei Antonovich more often, but again on business...
I don’t like being called, for example, “legendary.” I understand what people want to say - courageous, brave. It turns out that they are exalting me too much. This was somehow well emphasized in Orel (I honorable Sir this city and visited there often) one teacher: why is he legendary, he is from our life, he is one of us. Yes, I'm not a legend, I'm a real living person.
-What do you regret?
- About the fact that I didn’t find out the name of the commissioner. Didn't spend in last way Boris Polevoy. When he died, I was in a sanatorium, my health was not the best. I turn to my wife: what are we going to do? Together we decided: we’ll call Inna Iosifovna, Polevoy’s wife, express our condolences, and when we arrive in Moscow, we’ll lay flowers on the grave. And so they did. Now I think it was necessary to escape to the capital no matter what. I regret that I did not visit the “Maresyev trail”, which they tell me a lot about, but the Novgorod region is nearby.
- But you met the guys who found you on a frosty April morning in 1942 and, in fact, saved you. There is a photo of you together.
- I met the guys from the village of Plavni for the first time during the celebration of the 20th anniversary of the Victory. I then invited them to Moscow, met them, and placed them in a hotel. And the next day they were visiting me. Galina Viktorovna set the table, and we had a good time. With Vikhrov, he is a smarter guy, we met later, I helped him solve some problems.
And yet there are many things to regret. Didn't do this, didn't do that. Of course, some things can be attributed to being busy, to the need for rest, to health, and finally. But these are already excuses. Life is a complicated thing...

Hero of the Soviet Union Alexei Petrovich Maresyev died on Friday, May 18, 2001, two days before his 85th birthday, in one of the Moscow clinics, where he was taken with an acute heart attack. He did not live only an hour before the start of the gala evening in the Central academic theater Russian Army dedicated to his anniversary. That's what they ordered higher power. Even death emphasized the greatness of this man’s life, his responsibility, decency, and courage.

Anatoly DOKUCHAEV

In April 1942, Alexei Maresyev's plane was shot down by the Germans and crashed into winter forest, where the pilot sought salvation for 18 days. He was found by residents of the village of Plav, Novgorod region, then the pilot was transported to a hospital, where doctors amputated both of his legs. After this, Maresyev heroically returned to the sky and continued to shoot down German aces. And in 1943, Polevoy met him, who later wrote a story.

Polevoy, as a journalist, could not miss the story about a pilot without legs,” Viktor Alekseevich Maresyev, the son of a Hero of the Soviet Union, tells Metro. - They met in the dugout, dad took off his dentures in front of him. Polevoy was impressed that his father’s stumps were still bleeding.

At the meeting, Polevoy wrote something down in a notebook, and wrote the book at the Nuremberg trials, where he was a correspondent for Pravda:

There Polevoy spent time with war criminals and, to relax, wrote a book during breaks. Came from Germany with ready-made text. The story was published in 1946 in the magazine "October".

"DAD DIDN'T EAT THE HEDGEHOG!"

Victor Maresyev is tired of answering questions about how true the events in the book are. For example, many people find it suspicious why the main character’s surname in the story is Meresyev.

The field man had the right to do this! My father said: “I believe he did this because he was afraid that I would get drunk. And then the story would be banned. How many people were drunk after the war? So I played it safe.”

Viktor Alekseevich does not deny that there are indeed discrepancies in the stories of Maresyev and Meresyev.

My father spent three days in the village of Plav, no more,” he says. - Dad hasn’t found half-eaten canned food yet. And I didn’t eat the hedgehog, as described in the book. He just came across a lizard and it threw its tail away. Or here’s another moment. At the hospital, they actually brought my father an article about an amputee pilot, but not about ours, but about a British one.

Not mentioned in the book interesting detail- it turns out that at first the doctors gave up on the pilot and even wanted to take him to the morgue.

They covered him with a sheet; he was barely alive,” says Viktor Maresyev. - And then Professor Terebinsky appears. “What kind of gypsy is this?” he asked, since dad had black, black hair. “Well, let’s get him to the operating room quickly.” My father later recalled: “He bent over me and asked how I got gangrene. And I asked him to save my legs. Then I fell into blackness and woke up without legs.”

Maresyev actually danced on prosthetics in front of members of the medical board so that he could be returned to aviation. But even the intercession of doctors was not enough.

Squadron commander Alexander Chislov approached his superior three times so that he would allow Maresyev to fight on a fighter, says Viktor Alekseevich about an episode that is not in the book. - And he couldn’t stand it: “You’re tired of it! Do you want to mess with a disabled person? Write a receipt! If anything happens, you’ll go to court.” And Uncle Sasha took a risk.

POKEMON TIME

Victor Maresyev read the story in the sixth grade.

At that time I didn’t even think about the wisdom contained in the book,” says Viktor Alekseevich. - Only when I grew up did I understand! The author wanted the reader to have the desire to have the same willpower as his father.

Maresyev’s son emphasizes that thanks to the book, many people, being on the brink, understand: they cannot despair, they must fight.

Do you know pilot Yuri Kozlovsky? - says Victor Maresyev. - He lost his legs too! But he took an example from Maresyev. Or there is a well-known case where a paratrooper stepped on a mine and ended up in wheelchair. But his eyes are Maresyev’s! He even mastered the car and drives it. One day a Spanish woman wrote to her father. Doctors diagnosed terminal diagnosis her daughter, which is why the woman broke up with her loved one. Then she began to think about death, and then she came across Polevoy’s book. After reading, she realized that she needed to fight for life. As a result, the daughter was cured and she found a new husband.

Despite the obvious value of the book, “The Tale of a Real Man” was removed from the school curriculum.

Nowadays they don’t teach such literature at school,” sighs Viktor Maresyev. - I applied to many places, including the Ministry of Culture. But I'm not interested in this book! By the way, I once asked on television why there are no programs about veterans? They told me: “Not the format, Viktor Alekseevich!” Like this. But this is our story... Who among the youth now knows Maresyev? What about Pokemon? Everyone knows Pokemon. Alas, there has been a change in values!

"FIELDMAN? NO, I DIDN'T HEAR IT!"

Metro conducted a survey - we asked young people who was the prototype of the main character of Polevoy's story. The answer options were: a legless pilot, a legless tankman or a legless sniper.

“I don’t know about that,” the girl said when she heard the writer’s name. She chose not to identify herself.

18-year-old Olga’s answer was also not pleasing.

“I haven’t even read this story,” she admitted.

Do you know about Alexey Maresyev? - we give a hint.

No,” the girl snapped.

Programmer Danila, after listening to the answer options, confidently stated that the prototype was a sniper.

“You ask difficult questions,” 17-year-old Yulia was upset. But, hearing the hero’s surname, the girl suddenly blurted out: “Pilot!”

The results of the survey are as follows: only one person out of ten showed firm confidence in their knowledge of the work. Already in despair, we met 22-year-old Nikolai Ivanov, who is well acquainted with the story.

Ooh, Boris Polevoy! - he was delighted. - I read the book. My father is in aviation himself!

Nikolai was the only one of the respondents who named the hero’s surname himself.

Alexey Maresyev shot down 11 enemy planes, 4 of them before amputation, and 7 after

In June 1943, the leadership of the Commission on the History of the Great Patriotic War The USSR Academy of Sciences 1 planned a trip of research staff to the location of the 3rd Guards Fighter Aviation Division in order to interview the most distinguished fighter pilots. No one could have foreseen that among those interviewed would be Alexey Petrovich Maresyev (1916-2001) - a legless pilot, future hero Soviet Union. The commission staff were the first to record in detail Maresyev’s story about his experience.

Still ahead is a meeting with the writer Boris Polev, whose “Tale of a Real Man” will be published in the fall of 1946 in the magazine “October”. And he will make Maresyev a hero whom generations of Soviet people will look up to...

We offer readers of Rodina the original story of the 27-year-old pilot - in the form as it was recorded in July 1943. This document is amazing human strength. We publish it in full, maintaining spelling and style.

Before the war. "We brought fuel to the flying club..."

Transcript of a conversation with guard lieutenant of the 63rd Guards Fighter Aviation Regiment of the 3rd Guards Fighter Aviation Division, Alexey Petrovich Maresyev, born in 1916. Candidate for party membership. Deputy commander. Awarded the Order of the Red Banner 2.

The conversation at one of the combat airfields was conducted by Commission researcher E.M. Gritsevskaya, stenographed by O.V. Crouse 3.

“I was born into a peasant family in the town of Kamyshin, Stalingrad region. I went to school for 8 years, graduated from the 1st level of school, studied in the second level until the 6th grade, and then went on to study at FZU 4 at a timber factory. My mother and two brother. The FZU provided an education for seven years. I studied as a metal turner. I worked in this specialty at the plant until August 34, and I worked all the time and tried to go on to study further. I studied on the job at evening courses workers' faculty at the Agricultural Institute, after which he could go to study at this institute. But since I did not have any funds to study there, I did not finish it for 4 months 5 because I read in Pravda that admission to MAI was beginning 6 .

I sent a letter so that they would send me the admission rules, and I submitted an application to my company so that they would let me study. But they didn’t let me leave the production, and they sent me to DVK 7 to build the city of Komsomolsk. And I was a Komsomol member from the age of 29.

We arrived there, they told us that construction needed timber, and we worked in logging in the taiga. For good work, I was transferred to work in my specialty, and I soon began working there as a diesel mechanic on water transport. And there I worked until July 1937. Here I was drafted into the Red Army. In Komsomolsk, I graduated from the flying club without leaving work. It's very interesting how we ended it. The city was just beginning to be built. We just arranged places where the builders themselves could live. I worked in water transport, there was fuel, oil, gasoline, and another friend worked at an aircraft factory, and we brought fuel to the flying club and in general whoever could. That's how we studied and graduated from the flying club.

Afterwards I joined the army, on the island of Sakhalin, where I served in the border aviation in a border detachment, worked as a mechanic, they didn’t let me fly, because one such pilot was allowed to fly, and he broke the plane. But I reached the commander of the troops, and he said: “Try to give it, if he flies well, then let him fly.” While they began to check me, the commander sent a special direction that if the squad commander meets the requirements, has a seven-year education, graduated from the flying club and is a Komsomol member, then send him to a military school. They called me and asked where you want to go? I said that I wanted to go to military flight school. And they sent me to Chita. Then the school was transferred to Bataysk, and I graduated there.

Studying was easy for me. For my excellent piloting technique, I was allowed to work as an instructor, but I didn’t want to stay there, I wanted to join the unit. But still I was left as an instructor at the school, where I stayed from 40 to 41 for the month of August. I finished transporting the group, released all my cadets and began to send me on duty to Rostov, i.e. They gave me kind of combat work. I took it and wrote a memo so that they would take me to the front. One day I was on duty at the main airfield and the flight commander called me. He greets me with the words: “Goodbye, goodbye.” I say: "What is this goodbye?" - “And you’re flying away.” It turns out that according to my report, I was sent to the front.

The beginning of the war. "We worked exclusively on attack aircraft..."

On August 6, 1941, several of us flew to the front. I ended up in the 296th Fighter Regiment 8 and began to fight from Kirovograd. Then, as our troops retreated, we went to Nikopol and Zaporozhye. As soon as we arrived at the front, we began to conduct combat work. The work was very stressful. Our group had to work on our own and for the technicians, since the technicians were a little behind us. We had to do 7-8 combat missions a day. We worked on the I-16 exclusively on attack aircraft. Once we only had a pair-on-pair meeting with the Messerschmitts, but, as usual, they did not accept the battle.

After we went to Kuibyshev for formation, I was transferred there to another regiment as a flight commander, and we fought on Yaks. Our pilots were young. We spent a little time with this regiment near Moscow, here we worked as if for air defense and at the same time the flight crew trained. Then we were in the 580th regiment. And then, in March 1942, we went to the northwestern direction, when near St. Russa was surrounded by the German 16th Army. We then worked for the Demyansk group 9.

When I came directly to the front, I was appointed assistant commander. On the Northwestern Front I had to fight for 7 or 8 days. Here our task was to destroy transport aircraft that were throwing ammunition and food to the 16th Army. We shot down three of them in 8 days. And then I was hit myself.

The battle. "And I was thrown out of the plane..."

They knocked me out on April 4, 42 10. They hit my engine. And I was over their territory. The altitude was 800 meters. I pulled the plane a little to my territory, about 12 kilometers away, but there were forests and swamps, and there was nowhere to land. I went to sit in the forest, and there the forest was sparse and high and it was very difficult to sit in the forest. I covered myself with my hand so as not to hit myself, maybe, I think, I’ll stay alive, so that my eyes don’t get knocked out. I put my head in my hands, and here on the left I saw a platform. And here I did a big stupid thing. I lowered the chassis because it seemed to me that there was a platform there, but when I began to turn around, the engine stopped and the car went down. I just managed to straighten it out of the roll when the plane hit the top of a tree with its skis, and it turned out to be a full high-speed hood, i.e. the plane turned upside down. I was strapped down, but they came off and I was thrown out of the plane. So I fell about 30 meters, although I don’t know for sure. Apparently, what happened was that I fell in the snow, and then I rolled along the road and hit my temple, and for about 40 minutes I lay unconscious. Then, when I woke up, I felt something on my temple, I put my hand to it - blood, and a piece of skin was hanging. I wanted to tear it off at first, but then I felt that the skin was thick and I applied it back to the wounded area. The blood was dried there, and then everything was overgrown.

All that was left of the plane was the cabin and the tail - everything was scattered in different directions. I must have hit myself hard because I soon started hallucinating. I really wanted to ruin the engine, so I took out the gun and started shooting at the engine. And it seems to me that I am missing, I fired one clip in the pistol, then the other. Then I looked again into the forest, and I see that there are planes there, people standing there, I scream for help, but then I look - there is nothing. You look in the other direction, the same thing again, and then everything disappears again.

So I fornicated. He walked, lay down, then walked again. I slept in the snow until morning. Once it seemed to me quite clearly that there was a house, an old man came out of the house and said that we have a holiday home here. I say: "Help me get there." And he goes further and further. Then I approach myself, but I don’t see anything. Then I went to another clearing, I looked - there was a well, a girl was walking with a guy, otherwise it seemed that a girl was walking with buckets. "What are you talking about?" - “Water.” But she didn’t give me water.

I fell 12 kilometers from the front line, but I couldn’t figure out where I was, it always seemed to me that I was at my airfield or somewhere close. I see the technician who served me coming, and I start telling him: “Help me get out.” But no one does anything for me. And this story with me continued for 10-11 days, when my hallucination passed.

The rescue. "Come over! Yours, pilot!"

Once I wake up in the morning and think, what should I do? I was already completely sane. I was very emaciated because I hadn’t eaten anything all the time. And I don't have a compass. I decided to go east, already in the direction of the sun. I also see planes flying towards us. I think I’ll eventually come across some village, and then they’ll take me there. But I became very thin and could not walk. I walked like this: I chose a thick stick, you put it down and pull your legs towards it, and then rearrange them. So I could walk a maximum of one and a half kilometers per day. And then for three days I lay and slept again. And I have such dreams that someone is calling: “Lesha, Lesha, get up, there’s a good bed in store for you, go there to sleep...”.

So I spent 18 days without a single crumb in my mouth. During this time I ate a handful of ants and half a lizard. Moreover, my feet were frozen. I flew in a leather jacket and high boots. While I was walking from place to place, water got into them, since it was already melting all around, and at night it was cold, frost and wind, and there was water in my boots, and thus I froze my feet. But I didn’t realize that my legs were frostbitten, I thought that I couldn’t walk from hunger.

Then on the 18th day, April 27, 11 o’clock at 7 pm, I lay down under a tree and lay there. At this time I hear a strong crash. I already understood that there were no people in the forest here, and I decided that some animal was coming, smelled the victim and was coming. I have two cartridges left in the pistol. I raise the gun, turn my head, and look - a man. The thought flashed through my mind that the salvation of my life depended on him. I started waving a pistol at him, but since I had grown taller and became very thin, he probably thought it was a German. Then I threw the pistol and said: “Go, your people.” He came up to me: “Why are you lying there?” I say that I’m shot down, the pilot: “Are there any Germans here?” He says that there are no Germans here, since this place is 12 km from the front line. He says: "Come with me." I say I can't go. - “But I won’t drag you away from this place. Then don’t leave this place, I know him and I’ll ask the collective farm chairman to send a horse for you.”

About an hour and a half later I hear a noise. About eight kids, 14-15 years old, came 12. I hear noise, but I don’t know from which direction. Then they started shouting: “Is anyone here?” I shouted. Then they came to a distance of 50 meters. Then I already saw them, and they saw me. We stopped. "Well, who's going?" - Nobody is coming, everyone is afraid. Then one guy says: “I’ll go, just watch, if something happens, you immediately run after the people to the village.”

It doesn’t reach me about 10 meters. And I’m thin, overgrown, I probably looked scary. He came closer. I unbuttoned the raglan 13, the buttonholes are visible. He came even closer and shouted: “Come over! You’re one of us, pilot!” They came up and looked. They ask: “Why are you so thin?” I say that I haven’t eaten for 18 days. And then they immediately: “Vanka, run for bread! Grishka, for milk!” And everyone ran in all directions.

Then another old man arrived 14. They put me on the sleigh. I put my head on the old man's lap and we drove off. It turns out that the person who first found me was going around, since everything there was mined.

Then I feel the boy pushing me:

Uncle, uncle, look!

I look, we are approaching the village, there is something black across the street. I speak:

What it is?

And all the people came out to meet you.

And indeed, there was a whole column standing, and when we entered the village, it turned out to be a whole procession. The old man stopped at his hut. Here people are in great demand. One says, give it to me, I have milk, another says, I have testicles, the third says, I also have a cow. I hear noise. Here the old man says:

I went for it and I won’t give it to anyone. Wife, bring the blanket, we’ll take it to the hut.

They brought me into the hut and started taking off my clothes. The high boots were removed, and the trousers had to be cut, as the legs were swollen.

Then I look again people are coming: some carry milk, some testicles, the third something else. The councils began. One says that you can’t feed him a lot, so one engineer from Leningrad ate a lot at once and died, the other says that you just need to give him milk. They put me on the bed, give me milk and white bread. I drank half a glass of milk, I don’t want any more, I feel full. They say: "Eat, eat." And I didn't want any more. But then gradually I began to eat.

They found some kind of doctor in their village, like a paramedic. He advised the owners to heat the bathhouse and wash me. They did all this. In general, very good people turned out to be. I really regret that I can’t keep in touch with them.

Meeting. "Leshka, is it really you?!"

I stayed there for two days. They reported to one military unit, and the captain arrived from there the next day. He checked my documents and took me to his unit. They gave me a warm compress on my legs there. The legs were as white as a wall. I was surprised and asked why they were so white. I was told that it was swelling from hunger. I asked if they were frostbitten? “No, no,” they say, “nothing.” But I couldn’t walk at all.

When I was brought to this unit, and it was some kind of convoy detachment, a doctor came there, and I still can’t understand why he did it, and whether it was necessary to do it, but he prescribed me to drink a glass of vodka and gave me I can only snack on black crackers. At first, after I drank, everything was fine, but then around two in the morning I began to feel uneasy, and I began, as they say, to “play tricks.” One girl was sitting there next to me, then there was a captain, so I don’t know what happened to me. I hit this girl, overturned the table that was standing next to me, and began shouting: “The Germans cannot win!” Then they laid me down. They just calmed me down, and ten minutes later I started shouting again: “Wrap me right leg, otherwise the Germans will take her!” This captain said that I shouted: “I’m dying, I can’t breathe!” He got scared and went for a doctor. He came and gave me an injection in the abdominal cavity. Then he asks me: “Well, How, has it gotten worse or better?” I answer: “No worse and no better.” “Well, it’s good that it’s not worse, but there’s nothing better to expect.”

Then they immediately took me to a mobile hospital and there they began to treat me normally. They gave me a blood transfusion there, and I began to feel a little better. They started giving me warming manganese baths. On the first day they brought me, they told me: “Sit on the stool.” As soon as I sat down, I felt like I wasn’t getting enough air. They say again: “Sit down.” I say I can't. They nevertheless sat me on a stool, and I fell off it. Then the doctor came, they put me on the table and infused me with 400 grams of blood. Then I say: “Now I can get up on my own.” But they put me back on the bed.

I was treated there for 7-8 days, until April 30. They tell me that we will send you to the rear, to Sverdlovsk. But for this it was necessary to get to Valdai, and from there sanitary trains ran. On April 30, I was sent by car to Valdai. I arrived there around six in the evening. They just laid me down, I lay there for about 15 minutes, and they gave me rice porridge to eat. I started to eat, suddenly the door opens, a man comes in and starts looking for someone with his eyes, looking in all the beds. Then we met his gaze. I look - the squadron commander with whom I flew is now a Hero of the Soviet Union, Degtyarenko 15.

Leshka, is it really you?!..

It turns out that he was looking for me, because the mobile hospital informed the unit that I was there, and the next day he rushed to look for me... And I just started crying, I just sobbed, such was the meeting!

He asks me: “Why are you lying there? You might be hungry, I brought you two bars of chocolate.” I tell him: “I can’t, Andrey, I haven’t eaten anything for 18 days, I’m very weak.” And he, it turns out, came for me and wants to pick me up. And we really were very good friends with him; we couldn’t live without one. But the doctor won’t let me go, he says that they will send me to the rear. Degtyarenko began to get nervous and swear: “This is my pilot, I’ll take him. We ourselves know where to send him for treatment!”

And he looked for me for a long time and all the time - on the plane. First he flew to where they had been informed about me. And I was no longer there. But it’s not easy - I flew in and landed like at an airfield, and the landing site is 3-4 kilometers away. Then I had to fly here again. And he took off at 7 o’clock in the morning, and it was already evening. And he, in the end, took me with great grief and put me on a plane. Although they gave me a blood infusion, I felt bad. And as soon as they put me on the plane, I lose consciousness. Here he says: “I’m taking you, but you’ll probably die.” I say: “Come on, push it! Dead or alive, you’ve already taken it, so take it!” He put me in the cockpit, tied me up somehow, and we flew to the part where I fought. Everyone had already gathered here, everything was prepared for landing. True, I cannot tell you everything, since I was in very serious condition, and the next day I was sent to Moscow on an ambulance plane.

Operation. “Before my eyes, he cut off his legs with these scissors.”

Afterwards the doctor told me that the attending physician came and said that he, i.e. I probably won't live. She went into the office and still thought about whether to take a medical history or not. I decided to wait until Professor Terebinsky 16 arrived. When he came, he also had no hope that I would live. They put me in a separate room and began to monitor how I felt. The ward was a walk-through room, I complained about the noise. Then they put me alone in the ward and began to give me injections to maintain cardiac activity. I didn’t sleep for a long time; they started giving me morphine injections. I started sleeping for four hours then. They kept asking me how I was feeling? I say it's better. And here they began to treat me thoroughly.

It was necessary to cut off my legs. They have already begun to move away on their own: you lie in bed, you drag, and the joints themselves come apart.

One day a professor came, brought me into the operating room, he took sterile scissors and simply cut off my legs with these scissors before my eyes. In some places where there was still some living tissue, it hurt, but it didn’t hurt at all. I ask: “Comrade Professor, is this the whole operation?”

And since I was afraid of the operation, he said that we would fix it a little more and that would be it. But they began to prepare me for the second operation. I got a suppuration and needed it to go away. On July 22, I had a second operation. They only wanted to give me a spinal injection, but this anesthesia had no effect on me. The injection of local frostbite also does not relieve. The professor is even surprised, and then they decided to perform the operation under general anesthesia. They covered me with a mask and started pouring ether on it, I had to breathe the ether. My sister advised me to breathe deeply, deeply. As soon as I took a deep breath, it immediately hit me in the head, I waved my hand, knocked off the mask, a drop of ether got into my mouth, and I began to feel sick. The professor swears at his sister: “Why can’t you keep the mask!” They put on the mask again. I felt so bad, I shouted: “Take it off, let me live at least a little!” The sisters are crying here, the professor is swearing. Well, then they lifted my mask a little, I took a sip fresh air, and everything went as it should.

After the operation I woke up in tears. My legs hurt a lot.

Extract. "I'll dance in the club"

They treated me and took measurements for prosthetics. On August 23, 1942, they brought me dentures and I started walking. I studied, walked with crutches for 3 days, then walked with only one cane for five days.

I must say that one day my sister brought me a magazine and said: “Lyosha, look, there is an article here about an English pilot who, without both legs, continues to fly” 17.

This article interested me very much, and I asked my sister to tear out these two leaves from the magazine for me. Here I gained some confidence that I too could fly.

After the hospital, I went to the flight crew's rest home for a month. There I rested, and the battle for my flying life began again.

At the rest home, I talked to the doctor about this topic, but he didn’t tell me anything, like the person was joking and that’s all. Then the visiting expert commission of VSVK A 18, chaired by brigade doctor Mirolyubov, arrived there. I decided to contact him there, since it was a commission that I had to pass. And our doctor also advised me to talk to them. I get there and walk around without a stick. Moreover, I have already learned to dance. I wore trousers to graduation, then I was in pajamas. I come and say: “Doctor, I probably won’t go through a commission with you, but I would like to talk to you. I want to fly.”

He looks at me:

If you are a pilot, you will fly.

I'll have to go straight back to the hospital, and I want to talk to you beforehand.

What do you have?

I'm on both artificial legs.

What are you saying?!

I took a walk. He says:

No, you're kidding. Indeed?

Here my doctor began to smile and said that this is really so.

And do you want to fly?

Well, go through it again.

I passed again. Then I say:

If you are interested in how I use prosthetics, then come to the club today, I will dance there.

I go to the club in the evening and see that the whole commission comes to the club. I invite a girl and go dance. After the dance I go to my doctor. He says it is unlikely that the commission noticed. Then I dance again. They have already seen me here. They say: “Consider that all our votes are yours. When you arrive at the hospital, the surgeon will take a look, say his weighty word, if all is well, then you will pass.”

Offices. "You came here to rub your glasses in!"

I arrive at the hospital in Sokolniki. The chairman of the commission there is Dr. Sobeinikov. They turned me around, checked my nervous system and vision. Special attention turned to their feet.

Do you still want to fly? On what planes?

I speak:

If you ask to fly on fighters, you still won’t allow it, then on the U-2.

One doctor laughed:

In good faith, he says.

They had a council meeting. One says something, the other speaks. Then they call me over.

We decided to allow him to perform test flights on the U-2 aircraft.

Well, if I show good results, will I be considered fit to fly on the U-2?

Well, I think it’s not entirely good, but still we have to agree.

I went with this decision to the personnel department of the VVSK[A]. I arrive there and they direct me to Colonel Valchugin. He reads the paper. And there they wrote that he was unfit, both legs were amputated. And at the very end they wrote that he was cleared for training flights on the U-2. The colonel read that he was unfit and didn’t read it anymore.

What have you come?

I want a flying job.

You're no good.

I say that the commission gave me permission. He’s here: “What do I need a commission for, we can figure it out here ourselves, and here it’s written that he’s unfit and that’s it!”

And here he grabbed it and went:

You have no legs, but you came here to rub in your glasses.

This hurt me terribly. I speak:

I have legs, Comrade Colonel, but my legs are wooden.

But you won’t fly, how is that possible!

What do I care about the medical commission, we won’t let you in anyway.

Then I started talking to him differently.

Comrade Colonel, I will fly, but I ask you not to give a conclusion right away.

And he is already asking who I worked for and is going to look for a vacant position for me.

I ask you again - not to give a conclusion. I'll get to the air marshal.

He still won't accept you.

No, he will.

Well, he screamed even louder here.

Who will give you permission?

I speak:

I will come according to all the rules and ask permission. And I will still fly.

No, you won't fly.

No, I will.

You don't know how to walk.

I then plucked up the impudence and said:

It's none of your business how I walk. Since the doctors have given me the conclusion that I have good command of prostheses, I have the right to request that I be scheduled for testing, as indicated here.

He started shouting something else, but I had already left.

Some major was standing there. He is asking:

Is that what you were talking about there? What is it?

I told him everything.

Well, where do you want to go now?

I speak:

I'll go to the commander, Lieutenant General Novikov 19.

Have you visited the head of the HR department?

No wasn `t.

Go see him, otherwise it’s awkward to walk over his head.

And I decided to go to the head of the personnel department. I come to the secretary, he reports, and the boss receives me. It was just Major General Orekhov.

What's the matter?

I don't get a flying job.

I say, this way and that, Colonel Valchugin refuses. Valchugin comes to him. He reads the documents and says:

So you have no legs?

I speak:

With artificial legs, Comrade Major General.

No, you won’t fly, no matter what you do!!!

Why, Comrade General?

You can't do that.

Then I take out the magazine and say:

Well, people fly, only the British, why can’t I?

He read and put the magazine aside:

No, you won’t fly after all.

Comrade Major General, allow me to say.

Speak.

I will fly.

You are an average commander and must listen to what the general tells you.

I listen, but still I will fly.

Why is this necessary?

Firstly, I can still help aviation a lot, and secondly, this is a very interesting thing in aviation in general.

Have you thought about how you will cope with this?

I thought about everything.

He asked me to leave, then called me again.

Okay, he says, let's try.

Well, I think if we try, then that’s it. And, behold, the only person was this general who helped me.

Hope. "Okay, let's fly..."

They send me to one school to try. This is in the Autonomous Soviet Socialist Republic, in Chuvashia, in a primary education school 20. I'm coming there. The head of the school receives me there:

“Okay,” he says, “let’s fly.”

But he still doesn’t know or guess anything. They are assigned to fly on such and such a day. And then someone said that I was on artificial legs. The boss calls me and says:

Are you missing both legs?!

How will you fly?

I speak:

That's why they sent me to you.

And I didn’t even figure it out. Well, okay, let's try.

They give me a pilot, Naumov, he tests me on the U-2. On this plane you need good coordination, you need to be able to feel with your feet. I checked. Then he says:

My feet are frozen, maybe you can fly yourself?

They gave me 4 transportation flights. Then the squadron commander came, also checked and said that I can’t even tell that you have artificial legs. Then the head of the school flew on a U-2. I checked. They conclude that he is suitable for all types of aviation.

When I boarded the plane, I was even surprised myself; I never knew it was possible to fly like that without legs.

With this conclusion I come to Moscow, to the headquarters of the Moscow Military District. The commander, Major General Sbytov 21, was busy and did not receive me. His deputy Belokon reported to him about me. Belokon comes and tells me that he said that I cannot be sent to fighter aviation, and that I should rest. I speak:

I would still like to fly fighter jets. But if you promise to send me to a fighter, then I will agree to fly on a U-2 for now. I will be in Moscow and will bother you.

Okay,” he says, “we’ll arrange it, we’ll arrange it.”

Victory. "I won't break my legs!"

They sent me to the communications squadron in Moscow 22. There really was good job, I rested. I stayed there for only three months. Then I wrote a letter to the Moscow Military District saying that I felt good, rested, and gathered my strength. Then the very squadron I was in received the plane from the collective farmers, and Colonel Lyakishev was here. I asked my squadron commander for permission to contact him. He asks me:

Have you written to the commander of the troops?

There is some kind of resolution there. You must be called.

I waited and waited, but nothing came. Then Major Shiryaev calls me and says that the commander is sending you to the ZAP in Ivanovo 23. I'm asking:

In a fighter plane?

I dropped everything and started getting ready. I went to Ivanovo. They started there:

How is it that you don’t know how to fly a U-2?

“I fly on the U-2,” I say, “I also have a conclusion.

But the regiment commander did not dare to train me in a fighter right away. But it turned out that at first I had a conclusion regarding the U-2, and Major General Sbytov himself had already sent me to the fighter, but there was no doctor’s conclusion regarding the fighters. Then the regiment commander says:

You need to pass the commission, and then I will train you.

I think we need to go to Moscow for this commission. I went to Moscow. I come to the same doctors. Sobeinikov recognized me immediately. True, when I arrived from school, I gave him the report to read, and he was very surprised that I was suitable for all types of aviation. And here he says:

No, it won’t work, you can’t do it on a fighter.

Why, doctor?

There are great prerequisites for pilots having to land with a parachute. And you'll break your legs.

Just this magazine described the case of how that pilot jumped with a parachute and broke his prosthetics. Then he made himself prosthetics and flew on. I speak:

I won't break my legs, but I'll break my prosthetics.

We talked and talked, then he said:

Come tomorrow.

I come the next day, Doctor Mirolyubov is sitting there. He tells me:

Let's have a heart-to-heart talk about what might happen to you.

I speak:

If I fly a fighter jet, I will be able to control it completely, but if I jump with a parachute, I will break my prosthetics.

“I think,” says Mirolyubov, “that you will break your prosthetics and hurt yourself, but you won’t be able to fly the plane.”

And Doctor Sobeinikov said:

Yes, he will break his legs, but he will be able to fly the plane.

And here they had disagreements. I climbed onto the table, jumped and said: “This is how it will work!”

Finally, Mirolyubov was inclined to allow it. I wrote a piece of paper: we allow you to try it on a UTI-4 or Yak-7 plane.

Flight. "Suitable for all fighters"

I think: going to that regiment again won’t work, because they demanded that they write in black and white what we allow. Then I come to Major Shiryaev and ask to be tested here. And I began to fly in Lyubertsy with Major Abzianidze. We made a flight with him on UTI-4. He says:

How are you feeling?

I speak:

I sit as if in my car.

He says:

I also can’t say anything against it.

In the end, they wrote a conclusion: suitable for all fighter aircraft. With this conclusion, I go to the doctors. They read it and don’t believe it. I say: “Well, what should I do now?” They say: “Give us the chief of staff of this unit and the pilot with whom you flew. We will all get together and give a final conclusion.”

I then went to the personnel department to ask that they be requested to Moscow. They came to the commission, and the commission gave a joint conclusion: we allow training flights according to a special training course and, if he shows good results, then he is considered fit for fighter aviation. And with this conclusion, I went to ZAP and started training there. I finished the course there normally and asked to be sent to the front. I flew there on LA-5, Yak-7 and UT-2. So far everything is going fine.

All this happened because the operation was performed very well on me. I remember back in the hospital, I once jokingly asked the professor: “Professor, will I fly?” He said: “This is not my business, my business is to repair you so that you can feel everything through the prosthetics.” And indeed, wherever I go through the commission, everyone is surprised at how well the operation was performed on me." 24

July 1943.

Notes
1. For more information about the history of the creation of the Commission and its activities, see: The contribution of historians to conservation historical memory about the Great Patriotic War (Based on materials from the Commission on the History of the Great Patriotic War of the USSR Academy of Sciences, 1941-1945). M.; St. Petersburg 2015.
2. On April 9, 1942, for three shot down German transport aircraft (in air battles on April 1 and 5), the command of the 580th IAP nominated Maresyev to the Order of the Red Banner; despite the fact that he had been listed as missing since April 5, 1942. The award order was issued on June 23, 1942.
3. Exact date when the interview was recorded is not indicated. Most likely, this happened on one of the days between July 11 (the first day of work of the commission employees in the air division) and July 20, 1943, when Maresyev made his first combat mission as part of the 63rd Guards. iap.
4. FZU - factory apprenticeship school
5. So in the document.
6. MAI - Moscow Aviation Institute.
7. DVK - Far Eastern Territory.
8. 296th IAP of the Southwestern Front.
9. From March 31 to June 19, 1942, the 580th Fighter Aviation Regiment was part of the 6th Strike Aviation Group, which took part in the Demyansk operation - the destruction of the encircled area Staraya Russa- Demyansk ("Demyansk Cauldron") group of Nazi troops.
10. In combat reports we're talking about about April 5, 1942
11. Correct - April 22.
12. Among those guys who were the first to discover Maresyev were Alexander Vikhrov and Sergey Malin.
13. Raglan is a specially cut men's jacket in which the sleeve is integral with the shoulder.
14. We are talking about Mikhail Vasilyevich Vikhrov.
15. That’s right - Andrey Nikolaevich Dekhtyarenko (1909-1942), senior lieutenant, from March to June 1942, commander of the 580th IAP. He made 39 combat missions, shot down 10 in air battles and destroyed 2 enemy aircraft on the ground. On July 11, 1942, he did not return from another combat building. On July 21, 1942, he was posthumously awarded the title of Hero of the Soviet Union.
16. Terebinsky Nikolai Naumovich (1880-1959) - professor of surgery, pioneer of experimental open heart surgery. During the war years he worked in Moscow city hospitals, as a consultant surgeon at several evacuation hospitals.
17. Most likely, the magazine article was about Douglas Bader (1910-1982), an English ace pilot. Bader lost both legs in a plane accident (1931). After undergoing rehabilitation after leg amputation, he resumed flight training. In 1939 he was re-enlisted in the Royal Air Force. Won 20 in air battles personal victories. In August 1941, it was shot down over occupied French territory. Escaping from a downed plane, he jumped out with a parachute, while losing one of his prostheses. Got into German captivity. Liberated by the Americans in April 1945.
18. Red Army Air Force.
19. Novikov Alexander Alexandrovich (1900-1976), from April 1942 to April 1946, commander of the Red Army Air Force, Chief Marshal aviation, twice Hero of the Soviet Union.
20. We are talking about the 3rd school of initial pilot training in the village of Ibresi, Chuvash Autonomous Soviet Socialist Republic, where Maresyev took to the skies for the first time after amputation of his legs.
21. Sbytov Nikolai Aleksandrovich (1905-1997), lieutenant general of aviation (1943), from May 1941 to January 1948, commander of the Air Force of the Moscow Military District.
22. We are talking about the 65th separate air communications squadron of the Moscow Military District (Lyubertsy).
23. Most likely, we are talking about the 22nd reserve fighter aviation regiment of the Moscow Military District Air Force in Ivanovo.
24. Scientific archive IRI RAS. F. 2. Section I. Op. 79. D. 7. L. 29-33 vol.

The stars still sparkled sharply and coldly, but the sky in the east had already begun to brighten. The trees gradually emerged from the darkness. Suddenly a strong man walked along their tops fresh breeze. The forest immediately came to life, rustling loudly and loudly. The hundred-year-old pines called to each other in a whistling whisper, and dry frost poured with a soft rustle from the disturbed branches.

The wind died down suddenly, just as it had come. The trees froze again in a cold stupor. Immediately all the pre-dawn sounds of the forest began to be heard: the greedy gnawing of wolves in a neighboring clearing, the cautious yapping of foxes and the first, still uncertain blows of an awakened woodpecker, which resounded in the silence of the forest so musically, as if he was chiseling not a tree trunk, but the hollow body of a violin.

Again the wind rustled gustily through the heavy needles of the pine tops. The Last Stars quietly went out in the brightening sky. The sky itself became denser and narrower. The forest, having finally shaken off the remnants of the darkness of the night, stood up in all its green grandeur. By the way the curly heads of the pine trees and the sharp spiers of the fir trees glowed red, one could guess that the sun had risen and that the dawning day promised to be clear, frosty, vigorous.

It became quite light. The wolves went into the thickets of the forest to digest the night's prey, the fox left the clearing, leaving a lacy, cunningly tangled trail in the snow. The old forest rustled steadily, incessantly. Only the fuss of birds, the knocking of a woodpecker, the cheerful twittering of yellow tits shooting between the branches and the greedy dry quack of jays diversified this viscous, alarming and sad noise rolling in soft waves.

A magpie, cleaning its sharp black beak on an alder branch, suddenly turned its head to the side, listened, and crouched down, ready to take off and fly away. The branches crunched alarmingly. Someone big and strong was walking through the forest, not making out the road. The bushes crackled, the tops of small pines began to sway, the crust creaked, settling. The magpie screamed and, spreading its tail, like the feathers of an arrow, flew away in a straight line.

A long brown muzzle, topped with heavy branched horns, poked out from the pine needles powdered with morning frost. Frightened eyes We looked around the huge clearing. Pink suede nostrils, emitting a hot steam of anxious breath, moved convulsively.

The old elk froze in the pine forest like a statue. Only the ragged skin moved nervously on its back. His alert ears caught every sound, and his hearing was so keen that the animal heard the bark beetle sharpening pine wood. But even these sensitive ears heard nothing in the forest except the chatter of birds, the knocking of a woodpecker and the steady ringing of pine tops.

Hearing was reassuring, but smell warned of danger. The fresh aroma of melted snow was mixed with sharp, heavy and dangerous odors, alien to this deep forest. The black sad eyes of the beast saw dark figures on the dazzling scales of the crust. Without moving, he tensed up, ready to jump into the thicket. But the people didn't move. They lay in the snow thickly, in places on top of each other. There were a lot of them, but not one of them moved or disturbed the virgin silence. Nearby towered some monsters rooted in the snowdrifts. They emitted pungent and disturbing odors.

The elk stood at the edge of the forest, looking sideways in fear, not understanding what had happened to this entire herd of quiet, motionless and not at all dangerous-looking people.

His attention was attracted by a sound heard from above. The beast shuddered, the skin on its back twitched, its hind legs curled even more.

However, the sound was not terrible either: it was as if several May beetles, humming loudly, circled in the foliage of the blooming birch. And their humming was sometimes mixed with a frequent, short crackling sound, similar to the evening creak of a twitcher in a swamp.

And here are the beetles themselves. Sparkling their wings, they dance in the blue frosty air. Again and again the twitch creaked in the heights. One of the beetles, without folding its wings, darted down. The others danced again in the blue sky. The beast released its tense muscles, came out into the clearing, licked the crust, glancing sideways at the sky. And suddenly another beetle fell away from the swarm dancing in the air and, leaving behind a large bushy tail, rushed straight towards the clearing. It grew so quickly that the elk barely had time to jump into the bushes - something huge, more terrible than a sudden gust of an autumn storm, hit the tops of the pines and hit the ground so that the whole forest began to roar and groan. The echo rushed over the trees, ahead of the elk, which rushed at full speed into the thicket.

The echo got stuck in the thick of green pine needles. Sparkling and sparkling, frost fell from the tree tops knocked down by the plane's fall. Silence, viscous and imperious, took possession of the forest. And in it you could clearly hear how the man groaned and how heavily the crust crunched under the feet of the bear, which was driven out of the forest into the clearing by an unusual roar and crackling sound.

The bear was big, old and shaggy. Untidy fur stuck out in brown tufts on his sunken sides and hung like icicles from his lean, lean bottom. War had been raging in these parts since the fall. It even penetrated here, into the protected wilderness, where previously, and even then only infrequently, only foresters and hunters entered. The roar of a close battle in the fall woke the bear from his den, breaking his winter hibernation, and now, hungry and angry, he wandered through the forest, not knowing peace.

The bear stopped at the edge of the forest, where the elk had just stood. I sniffed its fresh, delicious-smelling tracks, breathed heavily and greedily, moving my sunken sides, and listened. The elk left, but nearby there was a sound made by some living and probably weak creature. The fur rose on the back of the beast's neck. He extended his muzzle. And again this plaintive sound came barely audibly from the edge of the forest.

Slowly, carefully stepping with soft paws, under which the dry and strong crust fell with a crunch, the animal headed towards the motionless human figure driven into the snow...

Pilot Alexey Meresyev fell into double pincers. It was the worst thing that could happen in air combat. Having shot all the ammunition, he was practically unarmed, four German planes surrounded him and, not allowing him to turn out or deviate from the course, they took him to their airfield...

And it all turned out like this. A flight of fighters under the command of Lieutenant Meresyev flew out to accompany the “silts” setting off to attack the enemy airfield. The daring foray was successful. The attack aircraft, these “flying tanks,” as they were called in the infantry, gliding almost over the tops of the pine trees, crept straight up to the airfield, on which large transport “Junkers” stood in rows. Suddenly emerging from behind the battlements of a gray forest ridge, they rushed over the heavy carcasses of the "lomoviks", pouring lead and steel from cannons and machine guns, and throwing tailed shells at them. Maresyev, who with his four men was guarding the air above the site of the attack, clearly saw from above how dark figures of people rushed around the airfield, how transport workers began to crawl heavily through the rolled snow, how attack aircraft made more and more approaches, and how the crews of the Junkers, who had come to their senses, began to under taxi to the start with fire and lift the cars into the air.

This is where Alexey made a mistake. Instead of strictly guarding the air over the attack area, he, as the pilots say, was tempted by easy game. Throwing the car in a dive, he rushed like a stone at the heavy and slow “crowbar” that had just taken off the ground, and with pleasure hit its rectangular, colorful body made of corrugated duralumin with several long bursts. Confident in himself, he did not even look as his enemy poked into the ground. On the other side of the airfield, another Junker took off into the air. Alexey chased after him. He attacked - and failed. Its fire trails slid over the car, which was slowly gaining altitude. He turned sharply, attacked again, missed again, again overtook his victim and knocked him down somewhere to the side above the forest, furiously stabbing his wide cigar-shaped body with several long bursts from all the on-board weapons. Having laid down the Junker and given two victory laps at the place where a black pillar rose above the green, disheveled sea of ​​endless forest, Alexey turned the plane back to the German airfield.