Fortress Osovets. Permanent sentry

2024 Author: Seth Attwood | [email protected]. Last modified: 2023-12-16 15:55

The Russian soldier, who stood on guard for nine years, remained faithful to the oath …

Major General Brzhozovsky was the last to leave the deserted fortress. He went up to a group of sappers who had settled down half a kilometer from the fortress. A painful silence reigned. The last time, looking at his dilapidated, orphaned, but invincible fortress, Commandant Brzhozovsky turned the handle himself. An electric current has been running through the cable for ages. Finally, there was a terrible roar, the earth shook underfoot and fountains of earth, mixed with pieces of reinforced concrete, shot up into the sky. Osovets - died, but did not give up!

This was the end of the more than six months heroic defense of the Osovets fortress.

THE GARRISON IS LEFT, THE HOURLY REMAINS …

By August 1915, due to changes on the Western Front, the strategic need to defend the fortress lost all meaning. In this regard, the high command of the Russian army decided to stop defensive battles and evacuate the garrison of the fortress. But in it and in the forts surrounding it there were numerous army warehouses, and everything had to be done so that the supplies stored there did not fall into the hands of the enemy.

On August 18, 1915, the evacuation of the garrison began, which proceeded without panic, in accordance with the plans. The evacuation of the fortress is also an example of heroism. Because everything had to be taken out of the fortress at night, during the day the highway was impassable: it was constantly bombed by German airplanes. There were not enough horses, and the guns had to be dragged by hand, and each gun was pulled on straps by 30-50 people. Everything that could not be removed, as well as the surviving fortifications that the enemy could use to their advantage, were blown up by sappers. The withdrawal of troops from the fortress ended on August 22, and only a few days later the Germans decided to occupy the ruins.

In 1918, the ruins of the heroic fortress became part of independent Poland. Beginning in the 1920s, the Polish leadership included Osovets in its system of defensive fortifications. A full-scale restoration and reconstruction of the fortress began. The restoration of the barracks was carried out, as well as the dismantling of debris that hindered the further course of work.

While dismantling the rubble, near one of the forts, the soldiers stumbled upon the stone vault of an underground tunnel. The work went on with passion and a wide hole was punched quite quickly. Encouraged by his comrades, a non-commissioned officer descended into the gaping darkness. A torch tore out from the pitch darkness damp old masonry and pieces of plaster underfoot.

And then something incredible happened.

Before the non-commissioned officer had time to take a few steps, from somewhere in the dark depths of the tunnel, a solid and menacing shout boomed out:

-Stop! Who goes?

Unther was dumbfounded. “Boska’s mother,” the soldier crossed himself and rushed upstairs.

And as it should be, at the top, he received the proper thrashing from the officer for cowardice and stupid inventions. Having ordered the non-commissioned officer to follow him, the officer himself went down into the dungeon. And again, as soon as the Poles moved along the damp and dark tunnel, from somewhere in front, out of the impenetrable black mist, a shout sounded just as menacing and demanding:

-Stop! Who goes?

Thereupon, in the ensuing silence, the bolt of the rifle clanked distinctly. Instinctively, the soldier hid behind the officer's back. Thinking and rightly judging that the evil spirits would hardly have armed themselves with a rifle, the officer, who spoke Russian well, called out to the invisible soldier and explained who he was and why he had come. In the end, he asked who his mysterious interlocutor was and what he was doing underground.

The Pole expected everything, but not such an answer:

- I, sentry, and put here, to guard the warehouse.

The officer's mind refused to accept such a simple answer. But, nevertheless, taking himself in hand, he continued negotiations.

“May I come,” the Pole asked excitedly.

- Not! - sternly rang out from the darkness.- I cannot admit anyone to the dungeon until I am replaced at the post.

Then the stunned officer asked if the sentry knew how long he had been here, underground.

“Yes, I know,” came the answer. “I took office nine years ago, in August one thousand nine hundred and fifteen. It seemed like a dream, an absurd fantasy, but there, in the darkness of the tunnel, there was a living man, a Russian soldier, who had stood on guard for nine years without fail. And what is most incredible, he did not rush to people, perhaps enemies, but nevertheless, the people of the society with whom he was deprived for nine whole years, with a desperate plea to release him from his terrible confinement. No, he remained faithful to the oath and military duty and was ready to defend the post entrusted to him to the end. Carrying out his service in strict accordance with the military regulations, the sentry said that he could only be dismissed from his post, and if he was not, then the "sovereign emperor".

Liberation

Long negotiations began. They explained to the sentry what had happened on earth during these nine years, they told that the tsarist army in which he served no longer exists. There is not even the king himself, not to mention the breeder. And the territory he guards now belongs to Poland. After a long silence, the soldier asked who was in charge in Poland, and, upon learning that the president, demanded his order. Only when Pilsudski's telegram was read to him, the sentry agreed to leave his post.

Polish soldiers helped him climb up to the summer, sun-drenched land. But before they could see the man, the sentry screamed loudly, covering his face with his hands. Only then did the Poles remember that he had spent nine years in complete darkness and that it was necessary to blindfold him before taking him outside. It was too late now - the soldier, unaccustomed to sunlight, had gone blind.

They somehow reassured him, promising to show him good doctors. The Polish soldiers crowded around him and looked at this unusual sentry with respectful surprise.

Thick dark hair in long, dirty braids fell over his shoulders and back, down below the waist. A wide black beard fell to his knees, and his already blind eyes stood out on his hairy face. But this underground Robinson was dressed in a solid overcoat with shoulder straps, and on his feet he had almost new boots. One of the soldiers drew attention to the sentry's rifle, and the officer took it from the hands of the Russian, although he parted with the weapon with obvious reluctance. Exchanging surprised exclamations and shaking their heads, the Poles examined this rifle.

It was an ordinary Russian three-line model of 1891. Only her appearance was amazing. It seemed as if it had been taken out of the pyramid in the model soldiers' barracks just a few minutes ago: it had been thoroughly cleaned, and the bolt and barrel had been carefully oiled. The clips with cartridges in the pouch on the sentry's belt turned out to be in the same order. The cartridges also glittered with grease, and the number of them was exactly the same as the guard chief had given them to the soldier nine years ago, when he took over the post. The Polish officer was curious about how the soldier was lubricating his weapons.

- I ate canned food, which is stored in the warehouse, - he replied, - and oiled the rifle and cartridges with oil.

And the soldier told the Poles who dug him up the story of his nine-year life underground.

GRINDING HISTORY

On the day the warehouse entrance was blown up, he was on guard in an underground tunnel.

Apparently, the sappers were in a great hurry to invest in the schedule, and when everything was ready for the explosion, no one went downstairs to check if there were any people left in the warehouse. In the rush to evacuate, the guard chief probably forgot about this underground post.

And the sentry, regularly performing service, patiently waited for the shift, standing, as it should be, with a rifle at his foot in the damp semi-darkness of the casemate and looking to where not far from him, through the inclined entrance gallery of the dungeon, the light of a cheerful sunny day oozed sparingly. Sometimes he could barely hear the voices of sappers planting explosives at the entrance. Then there was complete silence, the shift was delayed, but the sentry calmly waited.

And suddenly, where the sunlight was pouring, there was a dull strong blow, which painfully echoed in the ears, the ground under the soldier's feet shook sharply, and immediately everything around was enveloped in impenetrable, dense darkness.

Coming to his senses, the soldier realized the gravity of what had happened, but the despair that was natural in such situations, he managed to overcome, although not immediately. Whatever it was, but life goes on and the sentry, first of all, began to get acquainted with his underground dwelling. And his dwelling, by a lucky coincidence, turned out to be a large quartermaster warehouse. In which there were large stocks of rusks, canned food and other various products. If, together with the sentry, his entire company were here, underground, then even then this would be enough for many years. There was no need to fear - death from hunger did not threaten him. There was even a soldier's sedative - makhorka. And matches and a large number of stearic candles made it possible to disperse the oppressive darkness.

There was also water. The walls of the underground warehouse were always wet, and here and there on the floor, puddles were squelching underfoot. This means that thirst did not threaten the soldier either. Through some invisible pores of the earth, air penetrated into the warehouse, and it was possible to breathe without difficulty.

And then the forgotten sentry discovered that in one place in the arch of the tunnel a narrow and long ventilation shaft had been pierced, leading to the surface of the earth. This hole, fortunately, remained not completely filled up, and a dull daylight dawned through it from above. So underground Robinson had everything he needed to sustain his life indefinitely. All that was left was to wait and hope that sooner or later the Russian army would return to Osovets and then the buried warehouse would be excavated, and it would return to life, to the people. But in dreaming about it, he probably never thought that it would be so many years before the day of his release came.

It remains a mystery how this man whiled away nine years of solitude, how he retained his sanity and did not forget human speech. Indeed, even Robinson, for whom loneliness was unbearable and almost broke him, had more hope of salvation, the sun-drenched island and Friday.

However, even in the underground life there were events that disrupted the monotonous flow of time and subjected the staunch soldier to difficult trials.

You will remember that there were huge stocks of stearic candles in the warehouse, and for the first four years a soldier could light his dungeon. But one day, a burning candle set off a fire, and when the sentry woke up gasping in thick smoke, the warehouse was engulfed in flames. He had to wage a desperate fight with fire. In the end, burnt and gasping for breath, he still managed to put out the fire, but at the same time the remaining supplies of candles and matches burned out, and from now on he was doomed to eternal darkness.

And then he had to start a real war, difficult, stubborn and exhaustingly long. He was not the only living inhabitant of the dungeon - there were rats in the warehouse. At first, he was even glad that there were other living beings, albeit dumb ones, here, besides him. But peaceful coexistence did not last long, rats multiplied with such a terrifying speed and behaved so impudently that soon there was a danger not only for warehouse stocks, but also for humans. Then the soldier started a war against the rats.

In the impenetrable darkness of the dungeon, man's struggle with fast, agile, intelligent predators was exhausting and difficult. But a man, armed with a bayonet and ingenuity, learned to distinguish his invisible enemies by rustle, by smell, involuntarily developing a keen sense of the animal, and deftly trapped rats, killed dozens and hundreds of them. But they multiplied even faster, and this war, becoming more and more stubborn, continued for all nine years, until the day when the soldier went upstairs.

THE CALENDAR

Like Robinson, the underground sentry also had a calendar. Every day, when a pale ray of light was extinguished at the top, in the narrow opening of the ventilation shaft, the soldier made a notch on the wall of the underground tunnel, indicating the past day. He even kept track of the days of the week, and on Sunday the notch on the wall was longer than the others.

And when Saturday came, he, as befits a languid Russian soldier, sacredly observed the army's "bath day". Of course, he could not wash himself - in the pits-wells, which he dug with a knife and a bayonet in the floor of the dungeon, very little water was collected during the day, and there was only enough water for drinking. His weekly "bath" consisted in the fact that he went to the section of the warehouse, where the uniform was kept, and took from the bale a clean pair of soldier's underwear and new footcloths.

He put on a fresh shirt and underpants and, neatly folding his dirty linen, laid it on a separate foot against the wall of the casemate. This foot, growing every week, was his calendar, where four pairs of dirty linen marked the month, and fifty-two pairs - the year of underground life. When the day of his release came, more than four hundred and fifty pairs of dirty linen had accumulated in this peculiar calendar, which had already grown to several feet.

That is why the sentry so confidently answered the question of the Polish officer how much time he spent underground.

BLIND HERO

Such a story about a nine-year life in a dungeon was told by a permanent sentry to the Poles who dug it out. The recluse was put in order and taken to Warsaw. There, the doctors who examined him found that he had gone blind forever. The sensation-hungry journalists could not ignore such an event, and soon the story of the forgotten sentry appeared on the pages of Polish newspapers. And, according to former Polish soldiers, when the officers read this note, they told them: - Learn how to carry out military service from this brave Russian soldier.

The soldier was offered to stay in Poland, but he impatiently rushed to his homeland, although his homeland was no longer the same, and was called differently. The Soviet Union greeted the soldier of the Tsarist army more than modestly. And his feat remained unsung. The real feat of a real person has become a legend. In a legend that did not keep the main thing - the name of the hero.

Yaroslav SKIBA