“Disbat”, disciplinary battalion, “military prison”, “zone in the army” - even to me, a person so far from the army, these words are familiar and have always caused unpleasant associations and chills down my spine. There were rumors that this was even worse than the normal zone. However, I am a big fan of tickling my nerves. That is why, when a unique opportunity presented itself to look from the inside at what this very disbat represents, I accepted with great delight this invitation from the Press Club of the Ministry of Defense, especially since one of the two disbats throughout Russia is located in our Nizhny Novgorod region, in the village of Mulino (the second one near Chita).

Let me make a reservation right away that in the report, in addition to my photos, wonderful photographs of twowel and onepamop will be used. Their tricky questions made it possible to find out everything about this mysterious disbat. Special thanks virusog "y, whose words “you won’t be spoiled here” became the real leitmotif of this day))

So, the word “disbat” scares many recruits, comparing this place with a real zone. And the main difference is that, having received a term in the army, the soldier’s reputation will not be tarnished by the term, as it would be in the zone. The convict will only receive a note on his military ID that he served his term of service in the disbat, but this will not affect anything, and there will be no problems with getting any civilian job. But there’s not much that’s pleasant either; time in the disbat, naturally, is not included in the service life, and the maximum you can get is two years and give the army not a year of your life, but three.
So, let's go inside.

There are two types serving in this military unit 12801 personnel- constant and variable. In general, the disbat is designed for 800 places, but now there are 170 people there.


In general, the list of crimes after which you can end up in disbat is not that great. This is basically hazing, the same “hazing”, this is the unauthorized abandonment of the unit (such fugitives are called here “Sochi” from the abbreviation SOCH or “skiers” who sharpened their skis from the unit). However, I have already posted one of the stories about the “Sochi resident” as the most memorable. Petty thieves, hooligans, parasites will also end up in disbat, but those who have committed serious crimes such as murder, naturally, end up in appropriate institutions.

Well, it’s already harder to sharpen your skis from the disbat itself. It is fenced with several rows barbed wire, with such cute dogs running between them.

Dogs, by the way, do not obey anyone except dog handlers, so they tear to pieces anyone who happens to be near them. One of the convicts, who decided to leave the disbat, received sixteen bites, and even a couple of gunshot wounds to his legs. Everything is serious here.

Absolutely all windows in the barracks, headquarters and other rooms have bars. However, after a few hours of being there I almost got used to them.

This is what military personnel of variable composition look like. By the way, here they are all equal - all privates. Those who get into disbat do not save military rank, with whom he got here. Everyone’s head is shaved the same way, they are given a uniform with the inscription “convoy” (so as not to confuse the permanent and variable personnel) and are sent to study the regulations and do work.

drill training and physical training occupy almost the entire day of a serviceman. And another whole six hours a week are devoted to the study of the Charter - after all, here, in the disbat, everything is according to the regulations, and they got here for violating it. Occupational therapy is also effective - military personnel periodically marched past us with crowbars, shovels and other equipment.

The barracks, according to the commanders of the unit, differ from ordinary military barracks only in the bars on the doors.

Indeed, everything inside is as usual, clean and tidy. After the photos from the zones, this is where I expected the main horror, dirt and stench from foot wraps, but I was wrong. There is even a TV with DVD. Foot wraps and boots are dried in a special drying room, so there is no smell at all.

This is the room in which the magical transformation from mama's boys into men takes place. On the walls it is written exactly how to mend clothes, how to iron them comfortably, how to use an iron correctly. Everything is extremely simple, after such explanations even I, unsuited to homework, could do it.

Then we were taken to the part of the disbat that shocked me the most. This is the room where guard dogs are kept. There are only 15 of them, but the noise and barking is as if there are a huge number of them. The uterine barking makes you feel uneasy - you don’t want to get caught by such an uncontrollable dog. By the way, the dogs live comfortably here - they are fed deliciously, because every dog ​​is on allowance, they are even pampered with dry food.

The dogs in the photo do not look as impressive as in life, but I assure you that it is really impressive. Especially one Caucasian named Almaz, who was as tall as my chest)) the earth vibrated from his bark.
Then we went to the museum. Here is what was confiscated from convicts, even from their stomachs.

In the disbat there are jacks of all trades. Of course, after all, such needlework is done by those who really have gold.
These are the ships they make

They engage in wood carving and make meaningful chess pieces.

Seized knives and various interesting items

And even such masterpieces

And those who cannot engage in such creativity make cinder blocks)))

The convicts are fed well, but they are still thin. Even the prescribed 200 grams of meat per day does not help - after the active production of cinder blocks, there is hardly any strength left.

Slender rows of teapots in the dining room. Everything there is also very clean and smells delicious.
By the way, disbat is not only constant cramming of regulations, occupational therapy and drill training. Here (of course in free time, which is very small) you can go in for sports,
For believers there is a temple built by the convicts themselves. Heavenly patron - Sergius of Radonezh. There is even a huge icon hanging in front of the temple.

Inside, everything is the same as in any Orthodox church. Several priests come here, they are baptized here and perform various sacraments.

For those who profess Islam, there is a prayer room where the mufti comes.

You can play sports if you have enough time and energy. Here I tried to lift one dumbbell. It was a success!

Well, for the permanent staff there is a tennis court, an ice skating rink and other amusements. Various holidays and feasts are organized.

Convicts are allowed to meet with their relatives (including their wives, but not civilians, as in prison zones) in a hotel like this. It's very cozy there.

To sum up, I can say that I didn’t encounter any horrors there. However, everything is strict and very monotonous. In order to go to the toilet at night from behind the bars that block the entrance, you need to sign up in a magazine and you will be escorted out when needed. And if you and a friend wanted to run there at the same time, then this will not work - stand and wait until the luckier friend, who managed to sign up in the journal first, returns.
Particularly depressing are the rows of barbed wire, guards with machine guns, and a strict lock system (when you enter a room, they first close the door behind you, and then unlock the door in front). If at first you feel uneasy, then after a few hours you feel a sense of hopelessness. Even I, as a temporary guest, wanted to quickly leave this place limited by barbed wire and towers. Already in the evening at the computer with a cup of tea, I thought about those who, in these strict and limited conditions, will serve for another three, six months, and for others, two whole years.

However, the convicts themselves are no longer happy. In a conversation with them, we learned that they really regret it and would not repeat such an act again, having already learned what disbat is. And these words are not just an excuse for those interested. In their eyes you can see this constant restriction of freedom and strict discipline. One guy was “lucky” to be sent to disbat for two years in his eleventh month of service.

By the way, the convicts themselves strenuously hide their presence there. They write to their relatives: “Mom, I decided to serve as a contract soldier for a year, because they were so praised.” Shocked relatives, who decided to find out and even complain why their son was called to serve for no reason at all, then find out that in fact the valiant defender of the Motherland serves in the disbat.

In general, if I were a man and if I had to serve in the army, after attending the disbat, I would think 100 times before hitting a colleague with a stool. Two years of strict discipline thrown out of life are not worth such a small revenge.

Fascinating reports on the same from other bloggers - from

28th separate disciplinary battalion in Mulino- one of the two disbats remaining in Russia. The second is near Chita. But even in those days when there were more disbats throughout the country, Mulinsky was considered one of the most prosperous, if at all the words “well-being” and “disbat” can be put side by side. I think the few hours spent inside this impressive establishment turned out to be extremely useful. A source of knowledge of life of rare power.

A disciplinary battalion is not a prison, but a military unit. There are two types of personnel serving in military unit 12801 - permanent and variable. Variable military personnel are those who are inside the protected perimeter. They end up inside for varying periods of time, from three months to two years. At the moment, there are 170 “guests” in the unit out of a possible 800.

Knowledgeable people explained: going to a disciplinary battalion is not such a simple task. I mean, there are few “accidentally stumbled” people, more of those who managed to gain quite significant personal “fame” through their efforts. The army is not a chamber of weights and measures and not a right-flank scout detachment, it is a huge organization within which a lot of the strangest violations and deviations constantly happen. And you will have to strain a little to be personally noticed against the general background. Some spared no effort on this.

There are many in disbat who allowed themselves the so-called. hazing. Otherwise, this kind of relationship is called “hazing” or “anniversary”. One of the most common types of hazing is beating up colleagues. In addition to the “executors”, there is also a large percentage of “Sochi residents” ( SOC- unauthorized abandonment of a unit) or, as they are also called, “skiers.” Generally speaking, there are not so many articles under which soldiers of variable composition were convicted.

For example, Article 335 of the Criminal Code of the Russian Federation. Violation of the statutory rules of relations between military personnel in the absence of subordination relationships between them. Violation of the statutory rules of relations between military personnel in the absence of a relationship of subordination between them, associated with humiliation of honor and dignity or mockery of the victim, or associated with violence, is punishable by detention in a disciplinary military unit for a term of up to two years or imprisonment for a term of up to three years. And subparagraphs to the article.

Or article 337. Unauthorized abandonment of a unit or place of duty. Unauthorized abandonment of a unit or place of service, as well as failure to appear on time without good reasons for service upon dismissal from a unit, upon appointment, transfer, from a business trip, vacation or medical institution lasting more than two days, but not more than ten days, committed by a military personnel undergoing military service by conscription - is punishable by arrest for a term of up to six months or detention in a disciplinary military unit for a term of up to one year. And again there are a lot of sub-points.

In the disbat there are former thieves, brawlers, robbers, unprincipled hooligans and simply amazing fools (for those interested - almost an hour long film with real stories). But there are no rapists, murderers or other criminals. Institutions of a different kind are intended for them.

Here, by the way, a very big question arises - where, in fact, is it better: in the disbat or in prison? Personally, I don’t know the correct answer, but I suspect that for the majority of those who stop by, disbat is more useful than prison. But these are my fantasies, of course; I don’t know how it really is there. But I know that there are no marks of a criminal record in the passport of a serviceman who spent time in a disbat. Of course, it won’t be difficult for the military commissar to understand what lies behind the lines about being in military unit 12801, but for the rest, for those not involved, the person’s reputation is untarnished. This, there is an opinion, in a number of circumstances can be costly for a young man.

“Nothing makes a warrior’s life easier than discipline...”

In companies there are only privates. Past achievements, titles and distinctions do not count. The type of military service and specialization also do not play a role. A sailor, a motorized rifleman, a border guard or a “Vovan” - everyone is equally warmly welcomed into the fold of the disciplinary battalion. They shave their heads and change them into new uniforms. The times when the Red Army uniform of the 1943 model was worn in the disbat are gone. Caps with stars, trousers and tunics with a stand-up collar are no longer in warehouses.

The servicemen are dressed in regular “camouflage”. On top of the uniform, the company numbers and the inscription CONVOY are applied across the entire back using white paint through a stencil. This is so as not to confuse constant and variable compositions with each other. Another visible difference between the compositions is overcoats instead of pea coats. Although, as you can see in the pictures, there are also pea coats. The footwear is quite uniform - boots. In cold weather - felt boots. By the way, the boots of the convicted soldiers we met in the unit really shone. The fighters’ buckles, on the contrary, are faded and field-colored. Some are painted green for some reason.
Inside the protected perimeter there are bars on the windows, buffer gates made of metal mesh and other restrictions. The sleeping area in the barracks is separated by a locked metal lattice door. If at night a fighter feels the urge to go to the toilet, he must check in on a special list and proceed to the place of discharge of natural needs strictly in splendid isolation. Already together, for example, you can’t rush to the toilet at night.

While we were photographing the orderly, the outfit sleeping in the barracks received the command “Rise!” Those on vacation instantly flew over their beds and marched in a clear, short formation to the washing room.

National question in the unit is absent, various kinds of “community communities” and other groups are not encouraged. But the so-called “Caucasians” are present. Approximately every fourth of the 170 current “convicts” is from the Caucasus. Among them there are citizens who mistakenly consider themselves stubborn and unbending. If the list of offered pleasures seems insufficiently complete to a fiery fighter for his male rights who has come to the disbat, there is a healing guardhouse. The period of stay there is up to 30 days. A court decision is not required; the will of the commander is sufficient.

If thirty days on the “lip” seemed like a joke, the procedure can be repeated. So far, they say, it has helped everyone. As a result, the convicted and guilty soldier’s desire to work on himself and constructive physical labor in the name of society increases sharply. But the “dietary food” in the form of bread and water at the guardhouse was cancelled. The inmates there and the disbat soldiers are fed the same.

Outside, the “variable” warriors are guarded by other warriors from the permanent staff. In addition to the shooters, fierce guard dogs and special equipment are on guard. The object is secure, the guards move in “armor”, helmets and with fixed bayonets and, in which case, have the right to open fire to kill. They know how to shoot, the unit’s command conducts live firing almost every Friday, fortunately the training ground in Mulino is gigantic, there is enough space for both a guard shooter and self-propelled guns.

“My friend and I both work on diesel...”

The labor front for military personnel of variable composition is all around. Starting from the barracks, shining with almost sterile cleanliness, the absolutely square snowdrifts around the parade ground, and ending with the painstaking production of large-scale models of the unit for the local museum.

After the “tour” of the unit, those gathered were given the opportunity to listen to short stories of four disbat soldiers. The most harmless of them is the “self-propelled gun”. He ran away from the unit home, ran for three days, and now he will spend nine months behind the fence in Mulino. Next to him is a guy with a Georgian surname and restless eyes. He beat the officer who was filming him on a video camera, and broke the video camera. Why? For what? Not clear. 10 months to think about it.

The one who held up best was the former sergeant, who had already served for 11 months, was discharged and, on this basis, suffered serious bodily injuries. Arrived in Mulino for 2 years. He looked at everyone with an eagle eye, apparently, he was a tough nut to crack. The others' eyes were dark and scary. The young boys evoked sympathy, whatever. Among them were amazing characters. Now everyone together will enjoy exciting activities to correct themselves.

The officers accompanying us explained clearly: trimming and tirelessly squaring snowdrifts, constantly walking in formation, the difficult casting of concrete blocks in the industrial zone and months of cramming the same rules that have already become boring a hundred times over are, of course, stupid activities. This is clear to everyone, especially civilians. Sensible occupations are extortion, theft, escapes, beatings, vehicle thefts, unauthorized absences from mother’s house and trips to the next vacation, exhausting oneself with many days of drinking and indiscriminate robbery of clueless citizens. It's a completely different matter!
The craving for such hobbies in disbat is relieved with the help of occupational therapy. While we were standing on the parade ground, several groups of fighters with crowbars, shovels and brooms marched in different directions, briskly striding along the frozen asphalt. On the parade ground, disbat soldiers either march (most often in formation, but sometimes individually) or run. Drill training and physical education are closely intertwined and fill almost all of a serviceman’s leisure time. And in general, the impression was that the variable-strength soldier in a disbat tends to either stand still or immediately run.
In the so-called In their “free time”, servicemen of the disciplinary battalion can turn to faith. On the territory of the disbat, a small, very neat Orthodox church. There is a prayer room for Muslims. In rare moments of leisure, believing soldiers have the opportunity to reflect on their immortal souls. Places of worship in the military unit are not empty.
Do they flee from the disbat? They are running. But rarely and unsuccessfully. One of the escape cases was recorded in 2008. The escape ended sadly: after warning shots in the air, the guards opened aimed fire at the fugitive, shot him in both legs, and the guard dogs also bit the wounded man. But there is no need to look for the guilty here; all participants in the events knew for certain what they were getting into and what to expect. In Mulino it’s not Hollywood at all; you won’t find many kilometers of heated ventilation openings and baskets of laundry to ensure a comfortable escape.
In the history of the disbat there were particularly resourceful fighters: one decided to run away through the sheets through the window straight from the hotel where he was staying with his visiting parents, and the other bravely ate nails and other metal objects. I really wanted to rest in the hospital. The nails were removed from the inventive object and parts were transferred to the museum. Other items confiscated from (from) convicts are also stored there - syringes, homemade playing cards, primitive sharpening points, knives and other useful little things.
It was not possible to see any, let me emphasize once again in red, ANY horrors in the location of the unit, except for those that were demonstrated at every step: cleanliness, monotony, full employment. Without any jokes - 8 hours of drill and physical training, 8 hours of studying regulations, 8 hours of sleep, moving strictly within the perimeter by running or marching, checks, formations, strict adherence to the daily routine, not everyone can withstand the daily drill. The regulations, for example, are studied until complete amazement and falling into a military trance; only on this basis can one move one’s mind! There is no doubt - a difficult place. You can see everything at once from the faces of the variable composition of military personnel. It’s not worth coming here, they say, but it will only dawn on you too late.

I don’t know whether the skills and abilities acquired in disbat will be useful to soldiers in later life, but from a conversation with a permanent soldier it became clear: knowing the regulations makes life easier on any side of the barbed wire. The soldier seems to know what he's talking about.

Hello dear readers.

I would like to talk about a terrible place for soldiers, where, fortunately, few find themselves now - about the disbat.

I wasn't there myself. Colleagues and a boy in the hospital who served his time there told me about the disbat.

Disbat - disciplinary battalion, also known as "diesel". This is a special military unit to which military personnel who have committed serious disciplinary offenses in relation to their service are sent.

This part is surrounded by high fences with barbed wire. There are shooting towers along the perimeter. There is an armed guard, a canine unit and a horse department in case of escape. But, in fact, it is impossible to escape from the disbat.

Why do they end up in disbat?

The main reasons for being thrown into the disbat are beating with grievous bodily harm, a gross violation of the regulations (for example, while standing as an orderly, he was playing with a bayonet knife, and then suddenly the company commander comes in and the bayonet knife, as luck would have it, jumps out of his hands and sticks in his leg) , SOCH - unauthorized abandonment of a unit (to give SOCH - an army expression meaning escape from a unit), disclosure of military secrets (we had one shot - I called my girlfriend and said: “I’m sitting here in a warehouse, but there’s enough cartridges and TNT to destroy the city !”... in the end, guys from the FSB arrived and the guy went on demobilization a year later). Thus, you can get caught in a diesel engine either for running with a machine gun to scare the birds, or for not following an order. describes the nutrition of infants.

How they are sent to disbat.

A report is drawn up against the offending soldier, and commanders fill out a bunch of paperwork for him. On the appointed day, a car arrives and takes the soldier into the distant wilderness, that is, very far from settlements. Once in the disbat, the soldier surrenders his belongings. He is given a special uniform. Mobile phones are prohibited in the disbat.

Service in the disbat.

In general, speaking seriously, this is not a service, but simply hell. Cool demobilized peppers break in a week, or even earlier. The soldier must know the start date of service, the date of enrollment in the disbat and the end date of service in the disbat; he also memorizes the number of the article by which he was assigned to the disbat and the transcript of the article. In disbat everything is done according to the regulations, all movements are only by running and only in formation. The only place where you can relax is the dining room. The disbat includes correctional and forced labor. For example, making concrete blocks by hand or working on a sawmill. Every day the drill is a complete nerd, physical exercise, and unreal masturbation in the repetition of the charter in chorus. In winter, of course, the tedium lies in the fact that soldiers are forced to make unrealistically even edgings out of snow (an edging is a square of snow). If you mess up somewhere or refuse to obey, then you end up in the guardhouse. A guardhouse (also known as a “guba” or “kitcha”) is a closed room, where it’s freezing cold and you have to go gray on an iron chair, at an iron table. When opening the door, you must walk up to the person who opened the door and say everything that was described above, regarding the article and date, as well as the rank and surname. Convicts have only one rank in the disbat - private. Whether you are an officer or a sergeant, in a diesel engine you are a private. Only so-called free conscripts who serve here on conscription, as well as officers of this unit, have ranks in the unit. It is impossible to come to an agreement with either one or the other - since this is a direct road for them to diesel in the form of convicts. For this reason, the conscripts serving there are taciturn, because the first article of the charter says: “The guard is prohibited from: Entering into any contact with the convicted person...”. I know of a case where a convict asked a guard for a cigarette and he gave it to him, and the chief of guard saw this case. The result is deplorable: the guard received a sentence even longer than the convict to whom he gave the cigarette. There are known cases when guys were shoved into disbats for completely complete bullshit. Most of these cases, of course, were associated with the officer’s personal hostility towards the soldier. In rare cases, in such a barbaric way they demonstrated that there was discipline in the unit.

It is especially easy to get into disbat if the unit is statutory. On the Internet I read correspondence between Dagestanis about one such statutory part, in which even the most harmful Dagestanis stand on the nightstand because they are afraid of getting into disbat. One told the other that they put you in a diesel engine for any nonsense.

But the hardest thing, undoubtedly, is for those conscript soldiers who serve in the disbat under conscription: any problem is clearly not in their favor.

Of course, now they are put in disbat less often, since officers do not want to do the legwork with paperwork, and they are also deprived of bonuses for violations identified in the unit, etc. In addition, there are now only two disbats left. However, if the officers want, they will put you in disbat.

So you shouldn’t relax or, especially, commit serious violations, so that the service doesn’t end up being longer than a year, and doesn’t take place mostly in complete hell.

The article was written by Alexander Terentyev, good luck to those who serve and are going to serve, and health to your parents.

G Global theft in our army probably began in the early 90s. They steal everything and everyone. They steal uniforms, selling them both to civilians and to soldiers for money, and not necessarily an officer or warrant officer to a soldier, maybe a soldier to a soldier. They steal fuel and lubricants, either by simply draining it from equipment or by writing off tons of fuel for unconducted exercises. They even steal weapons and equipment.

At the cosmodrome, in addition, metals were also stolen - non-ferrous and ferrous. Conscripts stole a lot of things. The fighters initially received a penny allowance, and even he was detained for six months. But I wanted to eat in a chipka, smoke good cigarettes, and make a beautiful album and uniform for demobilization. It was almost impossible to do this without money. In our unit, a real gang had formed among the conscripts. The gang was engaged in extorting money from young soldiers. But if there was no money, it was allowed to pay “tribute” with stolen copper coins. It turned out to be a vicious circle - at night the fighters cut and burned the cables, and during the day, with the arrival of the locomotive and the officers, these chopped cable lines were restored. However, the cable lines were no longer restored with copper, but with aluminum “inserts” (there was no copper in the warehouse anymore). But the real copper of Stalin’s times went somewhere to the left. Even the fighters themselves did not know where.

Some suspicious individuals often lurked around the units, who somehow got into the unit, and assigned the soldiers tasks to plunder this or that object. These individuals sailed along the Emtsa River in boats and entered the unit from the side of the launch complex; there was no security there. The soldiers obediently cut cable lines, broke expensive microcircuits, and sold these elements made of iridium, palladium, and technical silver to “persons” for pennies.

In July, a criminal case regarding the theft of strategic military equipment was opened by the Military Prosecutor's Office of the garrison. A conscript soldier of one of the units removed almost 200 circuit boards that contained precious metals - gold and platinum - from two operating tracking stations. The cost of the sale was estimated at 150 thousand rubles. The soldier sold the metals for only 200 rubles. The serviceman was detained, and the buyers were subsequently found. Everything stolen was returned to the unit.

Here is what the local newspaper “Cosmodrome Bulletin” wrote about this:
“In the city of Mirny, the administrative center of the Plesetsk cosmodrome, the work of all collection points for non-ferrous metal scrap has been suspended. Employees of the cosmodrome, together with the police, raided scrap metal purchasing points in the Plesetsk region. In the villages of Plesetsk and Savinsky, buyers found working parts of technological equipment with cosmodrome markings and a large amount of space scrap metal. All this property is the property of the Plesetsk cosmodrome and ended up at recycling collection points without any documents, or, simply put, it was stolen...”

Our part also did not remain aloof from global theft. I would say that she was among the “advanced”. “Personalities from across the river” recruited two fighters from the DES. Soldiers Kocherga and Ugryumy had already served at the diesel power station for 1.5 years and were on duty every other day for a shift. It’s clear that no one really controlled their duty. Gloomy was the electrician on duty, and Kocherga was the mechanic on duty.

In the area of ​​the installation and testing complex where they were serviced spacecraft, there was a weapons depot. In the warehouse there were three sections of current allowances, and one section of emergency supplies, which no one except the unit commander, chief of staff and “special officer” had the right to enter. They said that nuclear warheads were stored there, but that was a lie. In fact, there were various blocks for missiles, microcircuits, and some kind of spare parts. The head of the warehouse, senior warrant officer Volsky, went on vacation and rested normally on the southern coast of Crimea. Instead, Major Gavrilyuk from the weapons service acted as head of the warehouse (while simultaneously performing the duties of a safety inspector and senior engineer of the ground forces). Of course, Gavrilyuk performed duties for several other people, and flew around the unit like a clapper bunny.
Gavrilyuk had absolutely no time to visit the warehouse.

Meanwhile, Poker and Gloomy noticed that the warehouse had not been opened for a long time. I don’t know which of them had the desire to rob him. It is possible that they did not decide, but someone told them. They wouldn't have thought of this on their own.

Kocherga, while on shift at the diesel power station, came to the weapons depot several times in the evening, trying to check how the warehouse was guarded. However, there was no sign of any security and no one stopped Kocherga in his criminal intentions. He returned to the DES and shared his thoughts with Gloomy, who basically agreed with Kocherga that the warehouse was not guarded and it was still possible to rob it. However, Gloomy did not dare to join Poker's company - and in the end he changed his mind. Then Kocherga decided to act alone. He brought a huge three-meter ladder to the weapons depot, allegedly to paint the walls of the warehouse yellow. And climbed onto the roof of the warehouse. After wandering around the roof, he discovered a ventilation shaft that led into the room. The soldier wandering around the weapons depot at night did not bother any of the officers on duty, since work on repairing the structures in the summer did not stop even after lights out. On the contrary, evening and night work was even welcomed by the unit commander.

The poker himself was not at all athletic and easily climbed into the ventilation pipe, which was quite wide and square in cross-section. He, of course, could have gotten stuck somewhere in the middle of the pipe, and it would have taken a very long time to find him. But Kocherga was lucky, and he crawled all 15 meters of the ventilation pipe, and made his way straight into the most important section of the warehouse. There were some details in the section that were incomprehensible to him. These parts were some kind of space rocket blocks, which the fighter could not even just look at because of their special importance. The poker may have been carefully instructed by someone (from the “beyond the river” people), so he did not take the blocks themselves, but only picked out some parts from them that were made of precious metals such as iridium, platinum, and palladium. The parts were small, but very expensive. The fighter put the parts in his pocket and climbed out of the warehouse in exactly the same way as he got in - through the ventilation. And again he was lucky - he didn’t get stuck. However, the people who sent him to commit the crime did not appear in the unit for a very long time, so he had to hide the details for a while in different places in the unit. Enough time had already passed, and the robbery of the warehouse would probably never have been discovered, but then the head of the warehouse himself, warrant officer Sanya Volsky, came back from vacation and discovered that the warehouse had been robbed. That is, everything was fine on the outside - locks, seals, etc. And inside there is a break-in. When Volsky became convinced that the warehouse had been robbed, he felt bad. The ensign was hospitalized with a heart attack, thank God he survived.

The wheel of search immediately began to spin, and, of course, the thieves were found. Stern and serious men in black suits arrived and in one day identified all the participants, including Poker and Gloomy. Then they took these soldiers around the unit, and they took out all their hidden parts from a variety of places: the attic of the group’s barracks, the lighting panel in the dining room, the transformer substation, and even the toilet. It was interesting to watch these idiots as they dived into a toilet like “EmZho” in the OZK and took out the parts buried there. They found almost everything, but this did not save them from a criminal case.

***
Unexpectedly for everyone, the commander of our unit left the unit for promotion. The order had already been signed in Moscow, and we didn’t even know anything about it. In honor of the farewell to the commander, the entire unit was built. The commander in full dress uniform, with gold shoulder straps and orders, said goodbye to the unit’s banner. Everything was solemn - even an orchestra from the city came.

After saying goodbye, my soldiers and I left for the next site of cable damage. Our crew of diesel engineers dug a pit in the ground in the area of ​​abandoned structure No. 101 on the outskirts of the unit. The ground was already frozen and before starting work we had to burn several car tires - this was the way to warm the ground. I was next to the fighters and supervised the work. We dug out another damage on the cable. Suddenly, a messenger with a red bandage on his sleeve came running straight to the work site:
- Comrade captain, the chief of staff is calling you! Urgently!

I had to stop work. I wiped the dirt-stained boots with a rag and went to headquarters, swearing to myself: “Why did Vyshakov need me?”

The chief of staff was in a good mood, and this was a bad omen - apparently NS had come up with some new nasty thing for me, and was proud of himself. We hated each other, but I tried not to show it.

Vyshakov was famous for his particular misanthropy. He could cause a scolding over the most innocent of reasons. He was especially irritated if someone in the ranks was in a good mood.
- Well, captain, are you ready to go to the disbat?
- Andrey Palych, officers are not put in disbat! Go straight to jail, if that happens.
- I will always have time to put you in prison! You'll be lucky enough to hand over your asshole Kochergu there.
- Comrade Lieutenant Colonel, who will repair the damaged cable?
- It’s okay, your lieutenant will do it. And you allowed a criminal case in your unit! So go! The captain will go with you

Morozkov from the fifth group. Tonight you receive a fighter in the city at the garrison guardhouse. Now go to the combat unit, write out the VPD for everyone, including your “convict”.
- Andrey Palych, who should I hand over my cases to?
- I told the lieutenant, let the guy steer for now, and we will help him... As Comrade Stalin said - irreplaceable people we don't have. Here are some more handcuffs for you - all the way, until the disbat, the fighter must be fastened to your hand. If you have any problems with train tickets, go to the military commandant, they are obliged to help.

I left the headquarters and headed to the combat department. There I was given a VPD to the village of Mulino, Nizhny Novgorod region. At the food warehouse I received several cans of stew (for the fighter). They didn’t give me travel money - the answer from the financial department was the same: “There’s no money yet, we’ll pay, perhaps at the end of the year.”

In the evening, having said goodbye to my wife and collecting the things necessary for the journey, I arrived at the guardhouse to receive the convicted soldier. About ten minutes later the chief of guard, a rocket captain unknown to me, brought Kocherga out of the cell. With his entire appearance, Kocherga represented the image of a prisoner of war - in a crumpled overcoat without shoulder straps, without buttons, without a waist belt, in a winter hat without a cockade. The camouflage was badly washed out, and long, uncut hair sticking out from under the hat, reaching to the shoulders. Kocherga was arrested in the spring, but now it was already autumn. All this time, the fighter sat in the guardhouse like a prisoner under investigation, and was not washed or cut.
- Well, Alexey, let's go to prison! - I made Poker happy.
- Yes, captain, I wish I could leave here quickly, I’m tired of sitting here already...

I handcuffed the fighter to his right hand and led him out of the guardhouse. Meanwhile, another escort, Captain Frost, joined us. Now everyone was assembled and we headed to the bus stop.

The weather was sunny, the sun was shining brightly, and Kocherga, in his crumpled overcoat and hat, looked like a “Soviet military threat.” On his back, the fighter carried a duffel bag in which his entire certificate was packed: boots, two old-style cotton ones, a waist belt, a trouser belt, summer and winter foot wraps, face and foot towels, underwear, barracks slippers, three-fingered mittens, a duffel bag , muffler, cap, etc. Captain Frost and I were dressed in civilian clothes and pretended that we were quite by chance next to this plague-walker.

Arriving at the Plesetsk station, I found out at the ticket office that there were no tickets to Nizhny Novgorod, where the disciplinary battalion was located. In the military commandant's office of the station there was a very greyhound lieutenant VOSO ("VOSO" - we deciphered it only as the "All-Russian Society of Sedentary Officers"):
“I can’t help you, comrade officers.” Your problems don't bother me. I can only help with tickets to Yaroslavl, and then buy them to Nizhny...

I tried to argue that transfers with a convicted person are unacceptable according to the order of the Minister of Defense, but the greyhound replied that he “doesn’t give a damn about the minister and let him provide everyone with tickets.” There was nothing to do, so we boarded the train to Yaroslavl.
The train arrived in Yaroslavl in the morning, so sitting in a separate compartment, we took out food and began to destroy supplies. Lekha Moroz took out a liter bottle of Spetsnaz vodka from his “Dream of an Occupier” brand bag, took out glasses and poured them for himself and me.
- Soldier, we’re not pouring a drink for you - sorry.
- Yes, and I didn’t really want to, Good night- the fighter climbed onto the top shelf and began to snore.

Just in case, I handcuffed Poker's right hand to the metal pipe that supported the shelf so that he wouldn't run away. We drank until three in the morning, told each other funny stories, and only passed out in the morning. I vaguely remembered that when the vodka ran out, we went to the conductor for more beer.

In the morning, with a headache, I opened my eyes and the first thing I saw was Poker eating stew. I glanced at his hands: they were free from handcuffs.
- Poker, why the hell did he unfasten?
- My hand is numb, drag!
- Damn, how did you unfasten the handcuffs, I have the keys?
- Yes, they open with a regular paper clip. These are bad handcuffs.

Captain Frost was still sleeping peacefully. I thought to myself that we almost missed the fighter, because he could have escaped, since he unfastened himself...
- Why didn’t you run away? - I asked the fighter.
-Where should I run? They’ll catch me anyway... and I live far away, in Siberia. You can only get to my village in the summer along the Yenisei.
- What did you do before the army? - I asked.
- Worked on barges. They transported timber along the river. The Yenisei is a big river, like the sea. In one place, each time a boat with men - Old Believers - quietly floated up to our barge. These strange men with long beards and old shirts climbed on board with us. They were talking somehow not like us, in an old-fashioned way. We didn’t kick them out and didn’t bother them. They always went to our galley and took salt and matches. Nothing else interested them. Instead they left sable skins. This was such a violent exchange. They live somewhere in a deep forest and no one knows who they are. The old people said that this family went into the forests even under Peter the Great, and they still live there without documents, without light, without televisions... They also floated back unnoticed.
- It's clear. Then there's no point in strapping you in. You can eat all the stew - it was received especially for you.
- Okay, drag it.

An hour later the train arrived in Yaroslavl. I had never been to Yaroslavl before. It was an ancient Russian city with interesting architecture. But we had no time for sightseeing.

First of all, our group went to the ticket office to buy a ticket to Nizhny Novgorod. But, as always, according to the law of meanness, there were no tickets. In the station commandant's office, as in Plesetsk, another greyhound lieutenant from VOSO was again sitting. “They’re just like brothers, some kind of railroad mafia!” - I thought.

There are no tickets for Nizhny today and there won’t be any! - the greyhound lieutenant reported cheerfully.
- Comrade Lieutenant! We have a convict! Dangerous criminal! We need to leave today!
- I can’t help you! If you make a fuss, I'll call the patrol! Tickets to Nizhny will be available only tomorrow! May be!
- Crap! Let's get out of here. - Frost grabbed me by the elbow. - Here, along the way, is a dead number.

We left the station building. It was necessary to think over a plan for further action.
- Yes, to hell with it! - Alexey continued. “We’ll hand over the fighter to the police for the night, and we’ll stay at the hotel ourselves.” God willing, we will live until tomorrow. All that remains is to find the cheapest hotel.

We went to look for the nearest police station. It turned out to be not so close - practically in the center of the city. The policeman on duty (also impudent and also a lieutenant, like his “clones” from VOSO) turned out to be completely intractable:
- I don’t fucking need your fighter! And don't even ask. I have enough of my own scum! Go to the garrison commandant's office - maybe they will take him away from you...

We even promised to pay extra if they took the fighter, but even for two liter bottles of Spetsnaz vodka, the policeman did not agree to take the fighter. I had to go to the commandant’s office, which was very difficult to do in an unfamiliar city. However, as they say: “Language will take you to Kyiv.” We found a garrison commandant's office, and even a guardhouse attached to it.

The commandant’s office, of course, flatly refused to accept Kocherga. We left the building and sat down with sacks and bags, like gypsies, on a bench near the Yaroslavl guardhouse.

There was no hurry.
- Holy shit, we're stuck! Let's go to the station or something, at least it will be warmer there, we can't spend the night on the street! - I suggested.
“Wait, I have another plan...” answered Moroz and headed back to the commandant’s office. About ten minutes later, a satisfied Alexey and some major from the commandant’s office came out of the commandant’s office.
- Well, where is your criminal? Let's get it here!
The poker practically ran to the commandant's officer, and he immediately took him inside the guardhouse.
- Lekha! You are simply a magician! - I did not hide my delight. -How did you do it?
“I remembered that a very good general, a former colleague of my father, is serving somewhere here (Lekha’s father was a colonel). I called the general - he helped...
- Well, that’s it, now all that’s left is to fall somewhere, otherwise I’ve already hesitated.
There were only three hotels in Yaroslavl. Two of them were beyond our means. We decided to stay in the last, cheapest one. We took one room for two. Everything in the room was very ascetic: just one bed, TV, table, and chair. There was a telephone on the table.
“We’ll take turns sleeping on the bed!” suggested Moroz.
- I don’t give a damn, I’ll sleep on the floor. I'm tired of something.
Before we had time to settle down, the phone on the table rang.
- What the hell!!! Who needs us here??? - Lyokha shouted, and, picking up the phone, he heard a pleasant female voice:
- Good evening! Are you not interested in girls? Very inexpensive...
- What-oh-oh?! Yes, we hate women! And we sleep in the same bed!!! Don’t call us anymore!!! - Morozkov continued to yell. At the other end of the line they chuckled sarcastically and hung up. Nobody bothered us anymore and we grunted peacefully until the next morning.

First thing in the morning, Alexey and I ran to buy tickets. This time luck smiled at us and they sold us tickets to Ilyino station. This is the closest station to the disbat. There were no railway stations in the village of Mulino itself. We had to somehow get from Ilyino to Mulino. But this will be the next task; I didn’t want to think about it yet. We took Kocherga from the commandant's office. The fighter was cheerful and satisfied. At the commandant's office they cut his hair, gave him the opportunity to wash himself and get into divine shape. Again, they fed him twice. This is what it means to have a general friend!

We thanked the duty officer at the commandant's office and went to the station. We boarded the train on time and left without incident. Early in the morning, at about three or four o'clock, our train stopped at Ilyino station. The conductor woke everyone up:
- Get up quickly, parking is only 2 minutes!

It was about 3 or 4 in the morning. I looked out the window; there was heavy fog outside and it was cold. Without washing ourselves, we quickly grabbed our bags and jumped out of the car.

Where to go - who knows. You can’t see anything - it’s not yet dawn, twilight, and even fog. It’s not at all clear how to get to the disbat - you can’t see people and there’s no one to ask. Here, still half asleep, Kocherga dangles in handcuffs. After several minutes of wandering, our group came to some village - local dogs began to bark angrily and almost killed us. I had to urgently run back towards the station. Walking like this without knowing the way was a pointless exercise. Therefore, we decided to sit at the station until six in the morning to ask one of the locals where we should go next.

Ilyino station was very small, and was a one-story wooden building, most likely built before the revolution. Inside the uncleaned waiting room there was a strong smell of urine and littered with untidy plastic beer bottles. There were wooden benches in the center of the hall. Next to them, right on the floor, lay a couple of some suspicious, dirty characters (either drunk or sleeping). I woke up one of them:
- Dear, how to get to Mulino?
- Same like that! You need to go by bus! The first one will be at half past six in the morning. Lend me five rubles! Not enough for bread!
- There is no money. We can give you bread.

He didn't need the bread. We left the waiting room (it was impossible to be there because of the bad smell) and headed to the bus stop. At exactly half past five in the morning the bus arrived and we rode on it directly to the village of Mulino itself. Our journey was drawing to a close.

For about forty minutes we were shaking in a full bus to Mulino. Finally, the driver announced:
- Who's up to Mulino - let's go out!

We jumped out of the bus and headed along the only dirt road somewhere ahead. Everyone passing by was asked how to get to the disbat, and after about twenty minutes we got there.

The disciplinary battalion was located next to a quiet pine forest. As a child, I often went to pioneer camps, and the battalion reminded me of an ordinary Soviet pioneer camp. The “pioneers” are separated from the rest of the world by a high reinforced concrete fence with two rows of barbed wire and a freshly plowed control strip. Well, and several more observation towers around the perimeter. We arrived at the battalion very early, and, of course, the checkpoint was closed. None of the convicted soldiers have yet been accepted. The soldiers on duty at the checkpoint periodically went out into the street and carefully checked the documents of those arriving. After checking the documents, all arrivals were sent for a medical examination. The examination took place not in the unit itself, but in the village itself, at the local civilian clinic.

There was no public transport in the village, so I had to walk to the clinic, about 40-45 minutes. The clinic was also closed, but a line of potential candidates for “boarding” was already crowded near the entrance. While we were taking the Poker for inspection, we carefully looked around. The village of Mulino was strikingly different from Mirny. Along the way we came across some huge model warehouse, apparently a fuel and lubricants warehouse. Everything there was so parallel and perpendicular that I remembered a poster - an example hanging in our fuel and lubricants service - of how a real ideal warehouse should be arranged.

The town itself was also unusual. The residential buildings were very different from the construction battalion buildings in Mirny, which were built under the slogan “You will be tortured to live here.” The Mulino houses were built according to some European design, obviously not Russian. Many houses had pointed tiled roofs; the houses themselves were no higher than the third floor, mostly with one or two entrances. This town reminded me of the city of Baltiysk, where we had practice after the 4th year. There were very few passersby, and we asked the first granny we came across about the origin of such strange houses:
- The Germans built it all. When Gorbachev withdrew his troops from Germany.

After sightseeing in Mulino, we took Kocherga to the clinic, where he was examined by a therapist. The inspection took no more than two minutes; we spent more time standing in line. The doctor wrote in illegible handwriting on Kocherga’s medical card that he was healthy and fit to serve in the disbat. After the examination, our fighter was completely depressed; he would not remain free for long.

Our team moved back to the battalion, where they had to stand another test - the reception of convicts. Near the entrance to the military unit there was already a crowd of soldiers in a wide variety of uniforms: future prisoners and those accompanying them from among the officers and warrant officers. To prevent the fighters from freezing on the street (the reception could be very long), there was a special room next to the checkpoint, like a waiting room, with stools and two large cages for holding prisoners. I saw approximately the same cage for keeping a person only in Orenburg historical museum in 1985. The robber Emelyan Pugachev was taken to Moscow for execution in that cage. It was possible, if desired, to lock Kocherga in a cage, but he behaved exclusively exemplary, had no intention of running away, and we did not lock him behind bars.

Besides ours, several other teams were crowded in front of the checkpoint: Marines - a fat, mustachioed senior warrant officer in a black beret was handing over a Marine from the North;
- border guards: a warrant officer and a contract soldier brought a soldier from somewhere near Vyborg;
- “red-feathered” motorized rifles: two senior soldiers brought two fighter-drivers from Moscow;
- artillerymen from the Leningrad Military District: the major brought some nerdy, thin fighter-“runner”.

There was still some time before the reception of convicts began, and I met all the accompanying people. First, of course, with the Marines:
-Where did you come from?
- Yes, from the North. From Revda.
-Where is it?
- Murmansk region. Naval ammunition depots.
- And what did your fighter do?
- Yes, he and the warehouse manager stole explosives. This one guarded and stood by while he was stealing...
- Did they imprison the ensign?
- Of course, they imprisoned me. Clear red! That's why they soldered it to the bones - seven years. And this idiot wanted to earn money for demobilization... Yes, unfinished? - The ensign grabbed the Marine by the ear.
- That’s right, the senior warrant officer is dragging! - Without being offended at all, the Marine answered. His beret was no longer wearing a cockade.
Then I chatted with the border guards:
- Why is your fighter being imprisoned?
- Non-statutory. Articles 335 and 336. Our fighter had already retired to the reserve last year. However, the military prosecutor's office found him and imprisoned him, already from the reserve. He even had to look for a uniform and boots. He has already given everything away to friends and acquaintances...
Muscovites were convicted of car theft. I don’t feel sorry for these at all. They served in the Arbat Military District, transporting generals. They had almost everything that a conscript soldier could wish for.
“What did your guys do?” I asked.
- Yes, these are two slob brothers: Chikatila and Shchekotala. We got fired up and a cool Mercedes was stolen from some “authority”. They wanted to take local prostitutes around Moscow. It’s good that the “authority” didn’t cut off their balls, although they probably should have...
The “runner” from St. Petersburg was apparently a pacifist and categorically did not want to serve. He served in Kamenka. And he ran away from everywhere. Last time he ran away so much that he even got a job there in the region.
- Why are you running away? - I asked the fighter.
- So we don’t even have a fence in Kamenka. Go wherever you want - in all 4 directions.
- What about sacred duty?
- Drag! What debt? I was beaten every day in the company. I pissed blood. They didn't let me sleep at night. I didn’t agree to serve like this...

The recruitment of fighters into the disbat had not yet begun. I had to kill time somehow. I left the reception room and talked with a local soldier who was sweeping the area in front of the checkpoint. He was dressed in old cotton and a faded cap. On the entire back there was the inscription “CONVOY”. Apparently the convicted fighter was verified and he alone was released outside the territory.
- We have two types of soldiers - permanent and variable. Variable composition is those that are inside the protected perimeter. They get inside for different periods of time, from three months to two years. At the moment, there are more than 200 “prisoners” in the unit out of a possible 800. Visiting us is not such an easy task. I mean, there are few “accidentally stumbled” here, more of those who purposefully “dug a hole for themselves”...
- Why are you here?
- “Unusual violation”, Article 335 of the Criminal Code. “Violation of the statutory rules of relations between military personnel in the absence of subordination relations between them.” There’s already a little left, so we’ll be heading home soon... Would you like to treat us to a cigarette?
- Help yourself, of course... Do you have a lot of people here for “hazing”?
- Enough. A whole company of them. In addition to the “hazing”, there is a large percentage of “Sochi residents” (SOCH - unauthorized abandonment of a unit) or, as we call them, “skiers”. Generally speaking, there are not so many articles for which fighters are imprisoned - 335, 336 or 337. There are former thieves, brawlers, robbers, hooligans and just fools. But there are no rapists, murderers or other criminals. They are already being taken to the normal “zone”.
- In your opinion, where is it actually better: in the disbat or in prison?
- Personally, I don’t know, but I suspect that diesel is better for most of those who come here than prison. I don’t know how it really is there. But I know that there are no marks of a criminal record in the passport of a serviceman who spent time in a disbat. Of course, it won’t be difficult for the military commissar to understand what kind of unit this is - military unit 12801, but for the rest - the person’s reputation is untarnished, there is no criminal record. And now you can generally lie that you signed a contract and then canceled it.

The long-awaited 08.00 arrived. Reception of convicted soldiers into the battalion began. Warrant officers and senior sergeants of companies (there are only five of them in the battalion, under the most common articles of the Criminal Code of the Russian Federation for military crimes) arrived in a special room, similar to a classroom, located at the checkpoint, and began to manage the admission process. Most of the people went to the 3rd company, where they went under Article 335 of the Criminal Code (“hazing”).

The admission procedure was as follows: first of all, the convicted fighter was clearly introduced to the members of the selection committee, like: “Private Ivanov Alexey Ivanovich, born in 1979, sentenced under Article 335, to a term of 1 year of imprisonment in a disciplinary military unit, the beginning of the term is April 10, 1999 year, end of term - April 9, 2000."

After such a clear report, the ensign carefully checked the documents of the convict, the presence of all the required seals in the military ID, since it happened that some arrivals did not have records and seals even about taking the military oath, that is, there was nothing to punish the soldier for - the oath - then he legally did not accept. After checking the documents, the most basic and most difficult part of the event began - checking the clothing certificates of the convicts. The foremen read out each item on the clothing certificate from the list, and the fighter had to quickly take it out of his duffel bag and present it to the public. Usually the problems were in towels, handkerchiefs, gloves, and even straps on overcoats. If the subject of the certificate was not available, the fighter was removed from the reception and handed over to his accompanying people “for the second round”, with the words: “re-reception after lunch, look for your freak a handkerchief.” Those accompanying him, of course, were not at all happy about this turn of events, and bought the things missing from the certificate at the local military store with their own money. The main thing was to quickly hand over the convict, and with a clear conscience to quickly leave for the point of permanent deployment.

We found ourselves in approximately the same situation. When it came time to examine Kochergin’s clothing certificate, it turned out that he was missing gloves:
- Well, where are they?
- I accidentally left it on the train...
- Why didn’t you accidentally leave your head there, donkey? Let's go look...

The surrender of the fighter was postponed until the afternoon. We left the checkpoint and went to look for the local military store. After about 40 minutes of searching, we found the store, but it closed at 15.00.
- Why do you close so early? - we asked.
- But still no one comes. On Saturdays and Sundays all the people sleep. No revenue. On Monday everyone is at work - again no one goes.

We quickly bought gloves and returned to the battalion. Along the way we met other teams, they also had comments. The border guards, for example, were forced to buy boots for a convicted soldier - “kirzachi”; They didn’t take them in ankle boots. The Marine actually got to the bottom of the worn-out heels on his boots; the heels had to be replaced.

At 15.00 the second stage of surrender of the convicts was coming. But for some reason there was no confidence that everything would work out. Lekha suggested to me:
- Listen, maybe we can buy a “bubble” ensign? “Absolute” there, or “Beast”, so that he accepts it faster..
- Well, hell knows, they seem to treat justice here now... Who knows what’s on their minds. Let's pass it this way, without a bubble. Otherwise they’ll accuse us of corruption, and we’ll go to jail ourselves!

***
Before the “second approach” we again sat in the “sump” at the checkpoint. The poker was sitting on a chair in an overcoat and eating another can of stew (it was necessary to destroy all the food, anyway, all the food in the battalion would be taken away). I continued to communicate with local soldiers, convicts and guards. I found out a lot of interesting things for myself.

The battalion contains only 5 companies. Only privates serve in companies. Past achievements, titles and distinctions do not count. The type of military service and specialization also do not play a role. A sailor, a motorized rifleman, a border guard or our “space ranger” Kochergin - everyone is received the same way: they cut their heads and dress them in special uniforms of the 1943 model. Caps with stars, trousers and tunics with a stand-up collar. On top of the uniform, the company numbers and the inscription “Convoy” (or “Beskonvoy”) are applied across the entire back using white paint through a stencil. This is so as not to confuse constant and variable compositions with each other. Another visible difference between the compositions is overcoats instead of peacoats. The military guards are dressed in regular “camouflage.”

In this formation, soldiers who have committed criminal offenses serve their sentences. Also, cadets of military universities who have not yet received an officer rank can get into the diesel engine.

"Diesel" was created in order to create a place for criminal punishment for the military. It was created in accordance with the Criminal Code that was in force previously. The time that a soldier spends in a diesel engine will not be counted towards his main period of active service.

Although, in some special cases it may be counted. Such a special case may be an order from the commander-in-chief of the military district. A serviceman who has served his term is sent to the regular troops after a disbat. In the regular troops, a soldier serves out the term that remained for him at the time he was convicted.

The periods for which the military were sent there were different and changed over time. Since the late 1980s, this period has been increased to 3 years.

The permanent staff of an individual diesel engine is usually 300 people. But the number of variable composition may vary depending on the number of convicts. The number of variable staff cannot be more than 500 people. Next, we’ll tell you if there are osdibs now?

Is there a disbat in Russia now?

In the early 2000s, the number of Osdibs was reduced. Several of them were disbanded. Now there are only two Osdibs left in Russia. In some CIS countries they have completely ceased to exist.

What is the difference between a guardhouse and a disciplinary battalion?

For a person who does not know the intricacies, it may seem that “diesel” is very similar to.

Of course there are some similarities. Both there and there, soldiers are serving their sentences.

However, there are also differences. How are these two formations different from each other?

• The first difference is the period of detention. The period of military detention in a guardhouse does not exceed 15 days. In a diesel engine, the service life of employees is much longer, it can reach 3 years.
• Violations. In the guardhouse, soldiers usually serve sentences for minor disciplinary violations. And in Osdiba they serve their assigned sentence. In addition, the guardhouse has special rooms in which soldiers suspected of serious crimes are kept.

  It is these servicemen who, according to the court’s conclusion, are sent to the “diesel”. It is there that soldiers who commit crimes serve their sentences.

  Osdib is a place where military personnel serve sentences of up to three years. If a military man has committed a fairly serious crime and his punishment exceeds 3 years, he is sent to civilian life.

Why do you get osdiby in the army?

In the army there is such a thing as osdib.

Why can you get there? For example, for .

You can also get there if a serviceman flagrantly violated the regulations, left the military unit without permission, or divulged military secrets. Those who refused to follow orders are also sent there.

Brutal murderers, as well as rapists and other criminals who have committed fairly serious crimes, are not sent there. They go to the civilian zone.

How are soldiers sent to this institution?

A serviceman can be sent to a disciplinary battalion only by a court decision.

If a serviceman is suspected of committing a crime, he is sent to a special room, which is located in the guardhouse. Further investigation is carried out. If it is confirmed that the serviceman committed a crime, the court makes an appropriate decision. After the conclusion of the trial, the convicted person is escorted to the osdib.

Is service in Osdiba carried out under a contract?

In a disciplinary battalion, soldiers can serve either by conscription or by contract.

Important! It is worth noting that those persons who have... Thus, if a citizen who wants to serve under a contract in a disbat was already there in a rotating composition and his criminal record was not cleared, then a contract will not be concluded with him.

A contract candidate goes through several stages of selection. At the final stage of selection, the candidate is checked for the presence or absence of a criminal record.

If all checks are passed, then the citizen can be accepted into the army under a contract. He is given a military ID, after which a contract is concluded with him.

After concluding the contract, the citizen undergoes training and is sent to the place where he will serve. A disciplinary battalion could become such a place.

Due to the fact that there are only two such battalions, and the number of soldiers serving there is limited to 300 per battalion, the chance that a soldier will end up there is quite low.

How is it going?

Service in the disciplinary battalion is the same as in other places. A feature of the service in this place can be called enhanced control over prisoners.

The military personnel who serve in this particular place are part of the permanent disciplinary battalion.

How many of them are there in Russia? Addresses of military disbats

How many disbats are there in the country? Now in Russia there are only two Osdibs. Addresses.