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Sunday, 13 August 2006
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First Time Into Russia
Contributed by George Mellinger
As a grad student, I had applied in the mid 1980s to participate in a six month academic exchange to the Soviet Union. I was among those not accepted, perhaps because several of the places I asked to go happened to be closed cities. I suspected I might remain one of those Russia scholars who would never get to visit and see for myself. Then, in early 1994, shortly after receiving a bit of unexpected money from an inheritance, I saw an ad for a company conducting military history tours to Russia, now within my resources. The tour involved Peterburg, Moscow, Volgograd (formerly Stalingrad), and Kursk. We would visit battlefield sites and museums, and meet with Soviet veterans. And so, in August 1994, I stepped off the airplane at Saint Petersburg’s Pulkovo Airport. My first of nine (so far) visits. In 1994 the revolution was still fresh and Russia was in the midst of being reborn. There were still signs of the old Union, such as drunks passed out on the street, and a general tattiness of a population only becoming acquainted with style. Russian plumbing and sanitation still lived down to its horrible reputation, and a trip to a public restroom almost always meant wading through raw sewage and waste. Literally. No need for signs or asking directions - just follow your nose. When visiting the original Tupolev design bureau museum in the building on Radio Street, I noticed the whole building smelled like a Viet Nam field pisser; for a reason. In fact, most of the apartment buildings, particularly the elevators smelled the same or worse. There were few places to eat, save the hotel, and food was plain. And the usual drink was warm coca cola. In the morning there was "sok" juice of some generic variety, and tea or coffee. In many ways the conditions were primitive. In the hotels, conditions were plain, and hot water was a sometimes event. And yet there were also hopeful signs. Private venders were out all over all the streets selling souvenirs, tee-shirts, fuzzy hats, and Russian crafts. Russian military souvenirs, not only the pins, but also hats and bits of uniform were very common. Much like Quang Ngai City or Juarez, anything was for sale. And in the hotel lobbies, that meant many young ladies as well. Many of the women, and not only the professionals, were also showing signs of wanting to beautify themselves, and some were already showing spectacular results. Stores, for the most part, were not well stocked, but at least were not bare, and there were no lines. Everywhere I saw olive drab trucks, ex-army, and recently privatized. Gasoline still seemed to be sold out of buckets from olive drab trucks parked by the side of the road. Private enterprise was undeveloped but obviously catching on, in a big way. As was crime. In the old USSR, criminals never messed with foreigners, they dreaded any such mistake, for it would bring down the full weight of the KGB upon them, as if they had poached royal game. If a foreigner were assaulted or robbed, it was clearly done by the KGB itself, and was meant to serve as a warning. Now things were reversed, and State Security was unlikely to bother you, but common criminals considered you the ripest pickings. In Peterburg and Moscow there were also beggars everywhere. Sadly, too many of them wore the blue and white telyashka of the airborne troops, Afghan vets down on their luck. There were also the very old, and the religious panhandlers. Soldiers were everywhere. Some of them were recognizable to me as regular Russian Army, Air Forces, Navy. But many other troops were dressed in fatigues or cammies. And all were armed. Folding stock Kalashnikovs seemed as common as pants. Even in the hotels for foreigners, the lobbies were as full of guards as of whores. I was able to learn many of the uniforms and insignias. The ones in the mouse gray uniforms were the militsiya, the ordinary police, they had rifles. Others were the OMON, the Police Detachments of Special Purpose, the crowd control police, also with AKs. Then there were the MVD troops from the Ministry of Internal Affairs. And particularly in Moscow, the special guard troops. And there were several other police agencies, and finally a horde of private security and guard companies, all in full cammies and insignias, and all with Kalashnikovs. Many of these wee the public face of Russian Mafiya, their guards and enforcers. You could also spot from time to time, other Russian Mafiya, dressed in heavy pinstripes, with wide hats, looking for all the world like bad imitations of television caricatures of mafiosi. And that is what they were. The were mafiya, and were going to look the part. Though I never saw any trouble involving any of these "troops", I presumed they were there for a reason, and their presence was one reason we never saw any serious action. Yes, in so many ways, Russia was the Wild East, and along with piss, the second aroma was risk. An exciting time for a war dog who wasn’t yet quite old. Then there were some notable encounters., several of which made lasting impressions. One day our group went out to visit the Piskarevskoye Cemetery where the dead of Leningrad’s siege are buried in mass graves - a million of them. By luck of the draw, the day we went just happened to be the day of remembrance when official ceremonies are held, including a great procession when various public groups and individual citizens lay flowers and wreathes in memory. When we discovered what we had happened into, our group quickly fond some flowers, and was incorporated into the procession at the very end. We were quite dignified, and even moved, as we marched up to the main monument and placed our offering. However, I noted with some disdain that a bunch of young high school age kids seemed unmoved and were horsing around. Evidently they’d had their over fill of patriotic education in school and were turned off by the whole bother. At this ceremony, we were also introduced to Colonel General Vasilii Nikolaevich Kubarev, Hero of the Soviet Union. At that moment, I made my reputation. "I know you!", I burst out , "Vasilii Kubarev, Hero, 65 Guards Regiment, 46 air victories. I have studied about you." On several later trips I have had other occasions to share a toast with Col. Gen. Kubarev, though I fear we will not be with us before I can toast him again. My particular surprise and revelation came when we started to meet with the veterans’ committees, official groups to be sure. Our tour group consisted of about twenty people including a few wives. A few were younger fellows with interest, but no military experience. And several were old World War. II vets, though none of them had actually gotten overseas, and had spent the war stateside. I was the lone Viet Nam vet in our group, and the only one who had actually gone off to war, so despite my limited action, I was the only one who had even heard an incoming round, or an outgoing one either. And when the Russians discovered that I was a veteran, the group veteran, I became something of a celebrity - and a Viet Nam Veteran, not just any celebrity, but someone to be feted and treated with honor! One day, in Volgograd, just as lunch was getting started, someone came in and informed me that there were a couple of Afghantsy, Afghan vets, around the corner form our hotel. Lunch had to wait. I was out to greet them, and to exchange best wishes of veterans for each other. Sadly, they were two in number, playing their guitars, with a hat in front of them. When we met with the Veterans committee at Kursk, one of the old veterans, a former Lieutenant of the 13 Guards Division, summoned me over to him and presented me with his own Guards badge. I plopped it into my vodka glass and "drank the badge". My friend then gave me his wartime photo and a special note to present to customs in case I were hassled trying to bring the gift out through customs. I retired to bed early, and involuntarily, missing the dancing at the hotel, which seemed to be the only night life in town. The next morning, I discovered I’d missed someone else. A pilot from the air force base had come looking for me. He had heard that there was a Viet Nam Veteran in town, and he wanted the meet me. He said he had also served in Viet Nam, at Saigon, (after 1975 I presume). Unable to meet me, he left a message and his Russian Air Force tie and tie pin for me. And I missed that. Damn vodka! But for me the shock was the honor and high regard in which I was held as a Viet. Nam Veteran. More honor than I had received in the previous 24 years in America. This should tell us something. To them we were not air pirates and baby killers. We were soldiers. And for many of them, I suspect we were heroes fighting against a system they did not particularly respect either. Several years later, an active duty captain told me. "You Americans never understood Soviet Army. You always thought number one enemy of Soviet Army was NATO. Wrong. Number one enemy of Soviet Army was Russian people." At Volgograd, when we met the old veterans, after a visit to Mother Russia at Mamaev Kurgan, where I was so moved by the words at the top of this post, I asked the old veterans what they thought about changing he name of Stalingrad to Volgograd, asking if they say a distinction between Stalin and the City. One of the old men got red in the face and went into a rant "You are right. Stalin was a bad man, a terrible man who did many evil things, but the city is not the man, and we fought for Stalingrad. This is the trouble with Russia. The names are always changing, but nothing else ever changes." When I departed, and on each subsequent visit, I have come to believe he was only partly correct. Indeed, much has changed, every year, some of it for the worse, and some for the better. And if some things have changed back, it is, as Lenin would say, "Two steps forward and one step back", though now the old bald bitch would say it grimacing. -Rurik |
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Contributed by George Mellinger on August 13, 2006 at 01:30 PM in , , | Comments Posted by: I'm marking this one "Best of ... " and putting it on the waiting list to feature at the top of the site sometime soon. It's a close race between this and the Misty post but since I already put the ad for the book on our sidebar I want to feature it soon. Posted by: | Aug 9, 2006 12:03:33 AM Posted by: Jim Bartimus Very well done and quite informative about the nature of a country I'll never get to see or experience. You've given me a good reason to start reading again and that's something I really need to do more of if I can make the time. Posted by: Jim Bartimus | Aug 11, 2006 6:45:10 PM Posted by: 1st Cav Rurick, Been meaning to tell you what an excellent story. Very envious. Still have an ice cold Baltica 2 that we need to finish off when we can. 1st Cav Posted by: 1st Cav | Aug 13, 2006 4:00:03 PM |