A Grenade like a Child’s Toy

“Now, I wish my platoon a good night before going to sleep. By name.” This is the second part of the Diary, which has been kept by our court correspondent Oleksii Chernetsky since the first days of mobilization. The first one was a bit like Kubrick’s Full Metal Jacket and was called “Flies in the Head”.

– 11 –

Somehow, unexpectedly for myself, I became the deputy platoon commander. I have no idea why I earned such an honor. Maybe because I took the initiative to find airsoft grenades for training. In any case, whatever happened happened. Am I happy with this assignment? Not very much, but I’m not upset either. Why am I not happy? This is an additional responsibility. A soldier is a subordinate creature. They give an order – you carry it out. Now I have to give orders too. But I am also given orders from above. The army and the hierarchy of things are inseparable. Now, I will have to find a balance between the wishes of my platoon and the commanders. And it was so good for me to live with a minimum of responsibility and think first of all about myself and not about 29 other men. But I don’t want to let my warmates down. And put myself under attack. Eh, I love positions with “additional” responsibility and a minimum of goodies.

– 12 –

Our battalion is replenished. Recruits arrived at the place of the previous graduation. During a smoke break, we watch the guys get out of the truck and think, what the hell, we were once like them – we didn’t understand where we got to. Unlike now. So much time has passed. Up to two and a half weeks.

Although, it seems like an eternity has passed in one moment. During this time, we gradually began to forget civilian habits and civilian life. As if all this happened in a past life. The uniform began to look more and more organic to us. It seems to have grown into our bodies.

These new recruits are strange. They don’t understand the local rules yet. Here, one of them did not understand when it was possible to talk on the phone and decided to command my platoon mate. And not even command, but to beat him for using the phone at an apparently unauthorized time. Well, the new recruit had to talk to our senior instructor and apologize to my warmate.

Soon this guy, who is used to solving problems with his fists, will learn muscle pain and other army science.

– 13 –

Yesterday, our senior instructor was flogging us for shooting on the move. We had to go in a single file and shoot. Then, shoot lying down. He was flogging the entire company. Thirty cartridges should be enough for the entire distance. If there is not enough, then you have to crawl. And the formation must be equal, the whole unit must act as a coordinated mechanism to suppress the enemy with fire and reach the position without losses. Yesterday we basically messed with it all. We also crawled like snails. I was also a shitty crawler. Not a prof.

So today they went shooting again. The first division of my platoon did well on these shooting ranges. In a good way. We marched in an even line and aimed fire. We hit the targets. So do I. Now the main thing is not to relax.

– 14 –

Being a deputy platoon commander is like being a head boy in a university. I understood it mostly on a day off when relatives came to my warmates. I had to write them all down, show them to the master sergeant and the soldier on duty, and take them to the families.

No one came to me. Not because there is no one. I do not want to. I don’t want to see my family or friends now. Too much sentimentality and longing for home and past life. Just such longing found those who were returning from their families. Although, I was pleased to see their joy when they went on this date. But they also returned with food. That’s why all our platoon thought to eat these supplies. We even chose the place. Everything was going well. But…

– 15 –

One of ours disappeared. A former deputy platoon commander. Apparently, you should have sought the least adapted person to the army. Coward, cunning, hypocritical, asshole. I suspect that it was precisely because of these virtues that he became the deputy platoon commander. Because of these character traits, he ceased to be the one. One shouldn’t pretend to be a very important person, but at the same time do nothing and avoid responsibility. We don’t like it in such places. The team didn’t accept him, and the instructors didn’t like him either.

He was very offended by the loss of the status of deputy platoon commander. The status, however, is so-so. He ran away. While looking for this dawg, we made a discovery – he pulled out the normal plates of level four from his body armor and put the awesome eighth ones. Those that can protect against a direct hit by a tank projectile. That is, plywood inserts to make it easier to walk. More comfortable. We laughed out loud. Of course, there were inspections, summons to the company commander for a conversation.

Different people gathered here. There are people whose health is not the best, there are people who are not very smart. But it’s probably dawgs like this that scares the most. Even more so at the front-line.

Now, I wish my platoon a good night before going to sleep. By name.

– 16 –

We threw RGN hand grenades. This was a little worrying. What if a grenade explodes in my hand, what if I don’t throw it so far, and what if I was hit by a shrapnel? Probably, everyone asked such questions in the squad. And this day has come – our squad is throwing grenades.

The briefing was completed, and the queue was formed. My platoon disassembles and assembles machine guns to the sound of explosions. And one of the fighters says:

“Damn, I can’t concentrate properly because of this chatter, are they mocking me?”

“Will it be quieter or more rarely at the frontline?” – I ask.

“Those who want more start wars,” I hear back.

Hum, who doesn’t want more? Don’t I want more? And what’s wrong with that? Not everyone can be a hermit monk who learns the truth in the mountains. I voiced these thoughts. Next, we disassembled the machine gun in silence.

It was my turn to throw a grenade. The first thing I notice is that it is quite light and fits the hand very comfortably. It seems like some kind of toy and nothing serious or scary. You just spread the safety clip and pull out the pin. The grenade is so tightly gripped in my hand. Ready for battle. But the feeling of holding a child’s toy does not leave me. I don’t even feel threatened. I hold this one in my hands without a pin. It seems like a non-lethal thing until I throw it. I hear the fuze go off in flight, and the grenade goes off in contact with the ground. It turns out that reducing the Russian gene pool is not so difficult. And so immediately after throwing a grenade, you need to either hide in a trench or lie down on the ground. No one wants to be cut by shrapnel.

– 17 –

Interesting people gathered at the training ground. There are intellectuals with higher educations and good jobs, ordinary workers, and people with cute prison tattoos. And the age categories are different here. There are family men and sworn bachelors. And the military commissariat really doesn’t care who you are. Here, you are truly an equal among equals.

In the first days, everyone was confused, scared, and wondering how I got here. By the end of their stay at the training ground, everyone has acclimatized and behaves more freely. Physical exercises no longer seem so heavy, and the minimal amount of sleep due to night air alarms is not very scary. Shooting, cleaning weapons, and practicing tactics also become routine practice.

Perhaps, this is the essence of this training ground. First of all, to get used to the military routine. We were less afraid and understood that we needed to be able to rely on our warmates because, in the movie, the invincible team destroys entire platoons. In life, everything is somewhat different. Your combat unit must work as a single mechanism aimed at victory. Although, maybe I’m wrong. But soon, I will test my guesses in practice.

There are also people who somehow rationalize their entry into the Armed Forces. For example, there is one guy in the platoon with a “Hooligan” call sign. Most likely, he invented such a name for himself. Always eager to get to the store to buy goodies and cigarettes for himself and his platoon. He has a percentage of it. He comes from Vuhledar. Somehow we are sitting with him near the checkpoint and basking in the sun:

“How did you get here?” – Hooligan asks me.

“Went out to drink coffee.”

“I was being caught twice and finally got caught, – Hooligan laughs.

“Hmm.”

“So where do you want to go, I mean what type of troops?” – Hooligan can not quench his curiosity.

“Wherever we are being trained, we have little choice – to dig and dig trenches again,” – I answer.

“Oh, I want to join the marines,” – Hooligan says dreamily.

“What the hell do you need it for?”

“Well, marines are cool.”

And all this time, he does not stop smiling brightly. The guy ran away from the Military Commissariat twice, but if he is going to fight, he wants to be as cool as possible. Also, girls will smile friendlier and want him more. And guys, they will respect. I am not yet a great specialist in war, but this attitude to the matter still scares me a little. I mean – bravery and imprudence. And we are told that we need to look at 360 degrees around us. I am not so confident in my bravery. To become at least a good soldier. Ideally, alive and well.

“Better learn to dig trenches”, – I say to Hooligan.

– 18 –

The last week in the training battalion. We were awaited by a tank run-in and a one-day hike to practice battle tactics.

As for the tank, everything is simple – we occupy small trenches, and the tank passes us. In principle, nothing complicated. The primary goal of this run-in is to overcome the fear of such situations. To show that there is nothing terrible here. Both me and the guys from my platoon were not intensely nervous. Maybe because we got bored during the whole training period, or maybe we started to get used to it.

However, there was one guy who tried to hide from the tank. This guy with “Chip” call sign was in the first platoon. Looks like a very young boy. He tells everyone that he really wants to join the airborne assault troops, but he was not accepted there. One of my fighters once said that this guy was just a foundling who never got parents’ attention. As it turned out, the truth was nearby. The guy tried to commit suicide three times because of bad relations with his parents. Maybe he joined the army in order to at least identify with something and be needed.

When a tank drove by, the ground shook, and it seemed that it was almost there, but at the same time, it was not. I decided I was not large enough to hit the bottom of the tank. Also, the trench is perfect for my height. Just lie there and wait for it to be over – what I did do.

The day hike was the same as any hiking in nature, only with bulletproof vests and weapons. In any case, we took our position and continued to maintain a circular defense. In practice, however, we ate pre-stored canned food and chatted.

Before going to bed, we, with the commanders of the divisions of my platoon, made bets on who would survive and who would not. Until now, it was not difficult to understand that not everyone has a chance of survival. Someone’s sore spot is sloppiness; someone’s is laziness. Someone doesn’t know how to follow orders. Someone is not a very emotionally stable person.

As much as I wish everyone would survive and return to everyday life. So that we all meet in some bar later and laugh at everything we’ve been through. But let’s be realistic. Not everyone has the same chance of survival.

The next day, when we were handing over the guns, I decided to discuss this moment with Separatist. We named him so because he comes from Yanukovych’s hometown. In 2014, when he left Donbas, he believed that he would never return there again. The irony is that he will not only have to return there but also de-occupy. At first glance, it may seem like a carefree dork singing a song about a sea of tits. But in reality, he is smarter and more serious than he seems. In any case, we became good friends with him.

“And what, have you calculated your chances of survival, too?” – Separ asks me.

“Of course not,” – I answer. I don’t want to think too much or often about my chances. It’s somehow convenient to think of myself as immortal. Of course, it’s not like that, but we’re all convinced to some degree that death is very, very far away.

“You know, I think that the most important thing in our case is to understand why you are going there and why you should return home, – says the Separatist thoughtfully, – after all, the goal is an important thing.”

“The pain is easier to bear if you know why all this shit is happening”, – I’m keeping up the conversation.

“It’s just that people are greedy and insatiable in their desires and will do anything to realize them. That’s how we, people, are. It is better to admit it.”

“And it is even better to use it as fuel – and how else, if without a point of resistance, you can quickly fall. And falling in our situation is equivalent to death. I was taught from childhood that the goal of a person is to be useful for the society in which he lives. Maybe that’s how it is.”

“That’s right, and I still want to play in S.T.A.L.K.E.R. 2”

“You still have to return to Yenakievo as a hero.”

“That’s for sure”, – and we both start laughing loudly

Of course, we might have further developed this thought about the goal and importance of the life path. But it is also so clear that from day to day we will be divided between brigades and directions of the front.

– 19-

Once I heard that intelligent and strong-willed people always get what they want because it is they who choose, not them. It is convenient for us to entertain ourselves with the illusion of control over our own lives. It is convenient for us to think that we are the main characters and that everything revolves around us. The only thing is that for others, we are secondary characters. This is neither good nor bad. This is one of the fundamental rules of society. A rule to be aware of. But we know. We have heard about it many times in different forms. Although we regularly forget. I am not an exception. However, we all need positive self-deception for the safety of our psyche. However, during our lives, we regularly get into situations where we are chosen.

My entry into the brigade was just like that. First, a week before the end of the young fighter’s training course, representatives of the 59th separate motorized infantry brigade arrived and began to select people.

I was one of those chosen. In general, I was satisfied with the brigade and my possible position – being a clerk at the front is not bad enough. You seem to be a participant in hostilities, but you fight more with the bureaucracy than with the occupier. At least there is a sense of security. It’s illusory, but still.

At that time, I did not know how much the situation could change. On the last day, representatives of the 5th separate assault brigade arrived and informed that all those who had previously been selected for the 59th brigade could relax. An order from the above changes recruiting priorities. One could feel frustration about this, but what’s the point? At all rates, I will end up on the Eastern Front. And the brigade is far from the worst.

– 20 –

The next day, we, a company of 117 people, collected our things and went to the City, to the brigade headquarters. I had a long-standing dream to trip around Ukraine. In the coming days, this dream came true to some extent. Another selection for the battalion took place in the City.

When a representative of the 24th separate assault battalion “Aydar” approached all the new arrivals with an offer to join the fire support company, many people showed up. They tried to choose the best candidates from them. Again, I was the one chosen. That’s how I got the specialization of a machine gunner.

After the selection, we were informed that we were going south tomorrow to the battalion headquarters, and for now, we could do what we wanted. I never thought I’d enjoy a commuter area, but after a month of fields and hills, it was quite a contrast.

And the feeling of freedom was intoxicating. No need to line up, look for an officer who will lead us to the store. So we wandered around the local market, buying all kinds of little things like cigarettes and water. We tasted shawarma and drank coffee. I was impudent and visited the pizzeria. At some point, I even remembered what civilian life is like.

I also remembered how he read the novel “The City” by Valerian Pidmohilny in my school years. At that time, the main character of the novel still seemed to me to be an asshole. After moving to the city, I began to understand this character. At some point, I myself began to turn into a kind of analog of Stepan Radchenko. I was young and ambitious. Still passionate and eager to get everything I don’t have. Wanted to conquer the city. Break its foundation. Hmmm, youthful maximalism is like that. Over time, I realized that it was tedious, and my ambitions were born of fear and a sense of vulnerability in front of society. Perhaps I felt fear for good reason. To be clear, we are all in a mode of cooperation and competition with other people. In my youth, I was focused on competition, but I was not yet mature enough to cooperate. Over time, it was a good thing that I realized that it was better not to enter into conflict with society in order to, for example, make it better. As soon as I learned not to let this society get too close to me, life became much easier.

Now, I just walked around the city and enjoyed the aesthetics of the commute area. If there is a desire, even in such places, you can find beauty. Doesn’t beauty make our lives more bearable?

When I entered the pharmacy, a little boy tugged me by the sleeve of my coat.

“I am also a military man” – he showed me his toy pistols. I smiled at him. Still, it’s nice to be considered a hero. Even if you haven’t done anything heroic yet.

– 21 –

Next, I was waiting for a trip to the registration headquarters and receiving protective equipment – a bulletproof vest and a helmet. On my bulletproof vest, there was the inscription “Dimidrol”.

I still managed to joke that someone had left an autograph. To which I heard in response: “don’t worry, the previous owner is wounded.” Well, I don’t know Dimidrol personally, but he was probably a normal guy. At least he took good care of his body armor – he inserted armor plates on the side and a pouch. He also smoked a lot, because the vest was permeated with the smell of nicotine.

Then there was a road to the east – to the second front line. Actually, the second line is not so bad. We are not forced to walk in a column here and can change into sneakers. We felt a light flair of Makhnovshchyna. Although, it is stupid for the military to walk in a beautiful march with a whole crowd on the second line. So you can easily get rid of a whole detachment or platoon. You can nearly see the war here. But hear well. You can hear how the artillery is working, and sometimes, you can see how our helicopters and planes carry out an airstrike.

Of course, no one is going to send me to the front without preparation. And how am I going to shoot a machine gun when I have never held it in my hands? Psychological preparation should also take place. It is clear that I, as a mentally healthy civilian until recently, am afraid of future events. Apparently, it is inevitable. It is necessary to have time to test psychological defense mechanisms. One friend, who was mobilized a year ago, said that either the war would grow on me, or I would hate it. Let it take longer, then. Let someone call me a militarist. After all, hatred of work deteriorates and stupidly breaks the quality of work. Isn’t war a job for a military man? And I want to do my job well and come back as little broken as possible.

– 22 –

I still have about a month of study ahead of me. But first, we, new arrivals, needed to settle down. We were settled in someone’s abandoned house. Judging by the multitude of love novels, an old woman lived in this house.

Also, there was Winnie waiting for us in our new home. He was short, full-cheeked, and with a thin beard. He immediately showed us a trophy PKM and a mortar. Gave us a brief insight into these units and joked a lot. I complained to him about my PASGT helmet. Even at the training ground, I felt how uncomfortable it was sitting on my head. Oh, this Polish standard.

“Now I will show you a normal helmet”, – Winnie laughed, – “a really normal one.”

A minute later, Winnie ran out with his helmet.

“Polnischer Standard fu. Der deutsche Standard ist ja” – Winnie began to say, stroking his helmet lovingly. It is certain that he loves his German helmet very much.

Other old soldiers said that Winnie was wounded twice during the war; that’s why he’s so frivolous and always joking and like a child at heart, and that’s why he’s called Winnie. But he knows his job. A little later, we got to know the rest of the older.

– 23 –

We got call signs very quickly. The chief sergeant of the company said to come up with it quickly because then it will be as it sounds. So I, Engineer, Mark, Raccoon, Thunder, Maniac, Solod, and Chucky got into the machine gun platoon.

I was in the same platoon with all these people, so I already know that you can rely on them. That’s how we started our boot camp in Aydar together. We remembered and consolidated what we had learned in the textbook. A few days later, veteran fighters from our platoon returned from vacation. We started getting to know each other.

Gosha, a bald man in his fifties with a gray beard, pointed his finger at the wiry and tall bearded man and said:

“That is Mutny, one hell of an asshole.”

“Why is he an asshole?” I asked.

“Because he is my friend, – laughed Gosha.

“Hmm, I guess I know what you mean”, – I answered.

“Well, in general, I don’t recommend that you make friends here, it’s better to wait for demobilization and then you’ll become friends”, – told Gosha with a serious look. “I am tearing out the hair on my beard from fear when Mutny goes on an assault.”

Mutny himself seemed to be the most prudent of this company. Calm, does not say too much. In the evenings, he can often be found on the phone with his family.

Then Gosha decided to show the won PKM. He found it and is very proud of it.

“But it is not a trophy, it is fucking ours,” said the Alligator. He was strong and short. He has been in the battalion since 2021 and during this time he managed to visit all the interesting places of Donbas. He was not always part of the fire support company. So he is generally an artilleryman. At least he was until his company was smashed. He says that he has begun to lose his fear of war and it sucks. It scares him to some extent. When he speaks to us, it seems as if he is addressing the void.

“Why the fuck it’s ours when I have found it” – Gosha answered to Alligator.

But because all the weapons are covered up by mud, after them, you need to sort and clean weapons, and this gun is still normal.

“Well, they also have normal squads.”

“Fuck no, it’s just that this machine gun will never be useful to any of our guys, but to us…”

All olders agreed that they were tired of the war and wanted to return to a peaceful life. They are not interested in capturing other people’s territories. They just want to drive the enemy out of our land. We were promised an exciting life. It was pointed out that the war will, first of all, show us who we really are. Some will cry after the first trial of fire, some will be silent, and some will be cheerful. Everyone experiences it in their own way and sees the war in their own way. But we will definitely have fun living. This was promised to us. It was also recommended that we look after each other because we have to fight together. The olders were looking at us.

– 24 –

What is a machine gunner without a machine gun. This is how we were taught the rules of handling PCM. We all managed to disassemble and reassemble it, cleaned it to a shine, and went shooting the next day.

All this process was managed by Alligator. It was clear that he enjoyed instructing us, he had fun. The feeling of working with a machine gun was different from that of a regular Kalashnikov, much better. Fire accuracy and it does not hit the ears hard. Personally, I was satisfied.

It seemed that I would not see anything cooler until I held a large-caliber Browning machine gun in my hands. Lipton came for the briefing. He is also a machine gunner, but he lives separately from us. It’s clear that this guy loves his tools.

“Well, dear shanky demons, please meet – this is Mr. Browning, do not hesitate to use violence on him, because he likes it,” – Lipton cheerfully began the lecture, sipping an energy drink.

“Fuck him as you like, but be gentle at certain moments, he is a gentleman, but with faggot habits.

Well, we were waiting for assembly and disassembly of this machine gun. And it was more difficult than working with PKM. Maybe because, in principle, the filling was similar to an ordinary Kalashnikov assault rifle. All this time, Lipton kept saying: “come on, come on, use violence, don’t treat him like a fag, don’t be shy, use violence.”

I can definitely say that you need active headphones to work with this good. It is very loud. At first, it seems as if it does not hit the ears. But after the end of the shooting, I heard the ringing for a long time. In the distance, someone else in combat positions could be heard firing a machine gun.

After the shooting, we had to clean our weapons.

“Guys, you forgot something,” Lipton points to a black suitcase in which there is a new Browning still in the factory grease.

“I kept the contents of the suitcase in my memory,” – I answer.

“So why did you keep silent, did you look for a fake excuse not to clean it?”

“I was just waiting for a good moment,” – actually, I remembered the proverb about an initiative that fucks the initiator.

“So, pop Mr.Browning’s cherry” – Alligator smiles.

“May it be mine?”

“The most important thing is that you be his first, ha ha ha.”

I got an interesting weapon. But all of us newcomers are interested in how we will kill with it. How will we feel at this moment? How will we live on? I decided for myself that I simply would not see people in enemies. Fortunately, they do a great job of dehumanizing themselves. It is difficult to see a person as a marauder or a rapist. And if there is a whole complex.

That’s why Mutny says that it is difficult to kill a person, but are we fighting with people?

Of course, it’s now that I am so smart and determined. But I am not immune to an unexpected and untimely influx of empathy. Maybe empathy will save the world, but definitely not at this moment and not in the context of this situation. It is better to save empathy for your own.

– 25 –

In our free time, we did sport. And how else to pull a machine gun when your hands are weak? And somehow, you need to occupy yourself. And we talked a lot about a wide variety of topics. We talked about Donbas, which we need to de-occupy.

“I am telling you that the separation of Donbas is due to the fact that it was drilled into everyone’s head that this region feeds the whole of Ukraine”, – says Yenot. Until recently, everyone in our team called him Separ because of his Yenakieve origin. But what kind of Separatist is he when he is ours?

Well, you probably know about subsidies. Are you aware that coal from these regions was sold to Europe? But they were completely unaware that this Europe did not have any use in buying coal from the republics. It so happened that they are in Novorossiya, but they want to receive a pension from Ukraine because they are paid five thousand rubles.

“What can you buy with this money?” – I ask.

“Fucking nothing?”

“Well, those people there are interesting,” – notes Engineer. In civilian life, he was a design engineer. A full-scale invasion of hostages while on vacation with the family abroad. But quickly turned back. Maybe he didn’t choose the country where he was born, but he likes Ukraine in many ways. He was in no hurry to join the army, but he was not going to run away from the summons either. In this, we are similar to him.

“The thing is that it is difficult to live in these areas because there are always problems with work, so they are used to doing what they say”, continues Yenot.

“But I will definitely say that there are problems with education in these areas. Many are taught just by the street. The street taught me more than my parents. But, apparently, if it wasn’t for the Ukrainian language teacher, I would really have been a separatist,” laughed Yenot.

Perhaps there is truth in Yenot’s words. My mother is a teacher of Ukrainian language and literature. It is difficult to find a person who would love these items more than her. You can say that it is in its place. She always insists on the correct reading of the book. It is necessary not just to flip through the pages mindlessly but to get to the essence of the work. Get acquainted with the biography of the author, the historical context when the work was written. What prompted the author to write this story? Pay attention to the context. It is these clues that will give an understanding of what the author wanted to say. Yes, such scrupulous people as my mother should be sought. But her lesson was not in vain for me. As well as her pro-Ukrainian position.

“One thing is clear for sure, that the ecology in those regions is fucked up, that they even issue drinking water on passports. Fucking passports. Throw away your Ukrainian passport if you want to drink. That’s fucked up.”