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Boris Vasiliev

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Part one

In his entire life, Kolya Pluzhnikov has never seen so many pleasant surprises as he has had in the past three weeks. He had been waiting for an order to confer on him, Nikolai Petrovich Pluzhnikov, a military rank for a long time, but after the order, pleasant surprises rained down in such abundance that Kolya woke up at night from his own laughter.

After the morning formation, at which the order was read out, they were immediately taken to the clothing warehouse. No, not in the general, cadet, but in the cherished one, where chrome boots of unthinkable beauty, crisp belts, stiff holsters, commander's bags with smooth lacquer plates, overcoats with buttons and tunics from a strict diagonal stood out. And then everyone, the entire graduation, rushed to the school tailors to fit the uniform both in height and in the waist, in order to merge into it, as into their own skin. And there they pushed, fussed and laughed so much that a state-owned enameled lampshade began to sway under the ceiling.

In the evening, the head of the school himself congratulated everyone on their graduation, handed them the "ID card of the commander of the Red Army" and a weighty TT. The beardless lieutenants deafeningly shouted the number of the pistol and squeezed the dry general's hand with all their might. And at the banquet, the commanders of training platoons enthusiastically rocked and tried to settle scores with the foreman. However, everything turned out well, and this evening - the most beautiful of all evenings - began and ended solemnly and beautifully.

For some reason, it was on the night after the banquet that Lieutenant Pluzhnikov discovered that he was crunching. It crunches pleasantly, loudly and courageously. It crunches with the fresh leather of the belt, the unrumpled uniform, the shining boots. It crunches all over, like a brand new ruble, which the boys of those years easily called “crunch” for this feature.

Actually, it all started a little earlier. At the ball that followed after the banquet, yesterday's cadets came with girls. And Kolya did not have a girlfriend, and he stammeringly invited the librarian Zoya. Zoya pursed her lips in concern, said thoughtfully: “I don’t know, I don’t know ...”, but she came. They danced, and Kolya, out of burning shyness, kept talking and talking, and since Zoya worked in the library, he talked about Russian literature. Zoya at first agreed, and in the end, touchily stuck out her clumsily painted lips:

You are crunching painfully, comrade lieutenant. In the language of the school, this meant that Lieutenant Pluzhnikov was asked. Then Kolya understood it that way, and when he arrived at the barracks, he found that he crunches in the most natural and pleasant way.

I’m crunching,” he informed his friend and bunkmate, not without pride.

They were sitting on the windowsill in the corridor of the second floor. It was the beginning of June, and the nights at the school smelled of lilacs, which no one was allowed to break.

Take care of yourself, said a friend. - Only, you know, not in front of Zoya: she is a fool, Kolka. She is a terrible fool and is married to a foreman from an ammunition platoon.

But Kolka listened with half an ear, because he studied the crunch. And he liked this crunch very much.

The next day, the guys began to disperse: everyone was supposed to leave. They said goodbye noisily, exchanged addresses, promised to write, and one by one they disappeared behind the latticed gates of the school.

A Kole travel documents for some reason they didn’t give out (although there was nothing to drive: to Moscow). Kolya waited two days and was just about to go to find out when the orderly shouted from afar:

Lieutenant Pluzhnikov to the commissar! ..

The commissar, who looked very much like the suddenly aged artist Chirkov, listened to the report, shook hands, indicated where to sit, and silently offered cigarettes.

I don’t smoke,” said Kolya and began to blush: he was generally thrown into a fever with extraordinary ease.

Well done, said the commissioner. - And I, you know, I still can’t quit, I don’t have enough willpower.

And smoked. Kolya wanted to advise on how to temper the will, but the commissar spoke again.

We know you, lieutenant, as an exceptionally conscientious and diligent person. We also know that you have a mother and sister in Moscow, that you haven't seen them for two years and you miss them. And you have a vacation. - He paused, got out from behind the table, walked around, intently looking at his feet. - We know all this, and yet we decided to ask you specifically ... This is not an order, this is a request, mind you, Pluzhnikov. We have no right to order you ...

I'm listening, comrade regimental commissar. - Kolya suddenly decided that he would be offered to go work in intelligence, and he tensed up, ready to yell deafeningly: “Yes! ..”

Our school is expanding, - said the Commissioner. - The situation is complicated, there is a war in Europe, and we need to have as many combined arms commanders as possible. In this regard, we are opening two more training companies. But their states are not yet staffed, and the property is already coming. So we are asking you, comrade Pluzhnikov, to help sort out this property. Accept it, post it...

And Kolya Pluzhnikov remained at the school in a strange position "where they send him." His whole course had long since left, he had been spinning novels for a long time, sunbathing, swimming, dancing, and Kolya diligently counted bedding sets, linear meters of footcloths and pairs of cowhide boots. And wrote all sorts of reports.

So two weeks passed. For two weeks, Kolya patiently, from getting up to lights out and without days off, received, counted and arrived property, never going out of the gate, as if he was still a cadet and was waiting for a leave from an angry foreman.

In June, there were few people left at the school: almost everyone had already left for the camps. Usually Kolya did not meet with anyone, up to his neck busy with endless calculations, statements and acts, but somehow he found with joyful surprise that he was ... welcomed. They salute according to all the rules of army regulations, with cadet chic throwing out their palm to the temple and famously throwing up their chin. Kolya did his best to answer with weary carelessness, but his heart sank sweetly in a fit of youthful vanity.

It was then that he began to walk in the evenings. With his hands behind his back, he went straight to the groups of cadets who were smoking before going to bed at the entrance to the barracks. Tiredly, he looked strictly in front of him, and his ears grew and grew, catching a cautious whisper:

Commander…

And, already knowing that his palms were about to fly elastically to his temples, he diligently frowned, trying to give his round, fresh, like a French bun, face an expression of incredible concern ...

Hello Comrade Lieutenant.

It was on the third evening: nose to nose - Zoya. In the warm twilight, white teeth sparkled with a chill, and numerous frills moved by themselves, because there was no wind. And this living thrill was especially frightening.

Somehow you are nowhere to be seen, Comrade Lieutenant, And you don't come to the library anymore...

Are you left at the school?

I have a special task, - Kolya said vaguely. For some reason, they were already walking side by side and not at all in that direction. Zoya talked and talked, laughing incessantly; he didn't get the point, wondering why he was walking so obediently in the wrong direction. Then he worriedly wondered if his outfit had lost its romantic crunch, moved his shoulder, and the harness immediately answered with a tight noble creak ...

- ... terribly funny! We laughed so much, we laughed so much... You're not listening, Comrade Lieutenant.

No, I'm listening. You laughed.

She stopped: her teeth flashed again in the darkness. And he no longer saw anything but that smile.

You liked me, didn't you? Well, tell me, Kolya, did you like it? ..

No, he answered in a whisper. - I just do not know. You are married.

Married? .. - She laughed noisily: - Married, right? You were told? Well, what if you're married? I accidentally married him, it was a mistake ...

Somehow he took her by the shoulders. Or maybe he didn’t take it, but she herself moved them so deftly that his hands were on her shoulders.

By the way, he's gone," she said matter-of-factly. - If you go along this alley to the fence, and then along the fence to our house, no one will notice. You want tea, Kolya, right? ..

* * *

Part one

1

In his entire life, Kolya Pluzhnikov has never seen so many pleasant surprises as he has had in the past three weeks. He had been waiting for the order to confer on him, Nikolai Petrovich Pluzhnikov, a military rank for a long time, but after the order, pleasant surprises rained down in such abundance that Kolya woke up at night from his own laughter.

After the morning formation, at which the order was read out, they were immediately taken to the clothing warehouse. No, not in the general, cadet, but in the cherished one, where chrome boots of unthinkable beauty, crisp belts, stiff holsters, commander's bags with smooth lacquer plates, overcoats with buttons and a tunic from a strict diagonal stood out. And then everyone, the entire graduation, rushed to the school tailors to fit the uniform both in height and in the waist, in order to merge into it, as into their own skin. And there they pushed, fussed and laughed so much that a state-owned enameled lampshade began to sway under the ceiling.

In the evening, the head of the school himself congratulated everyone on their graduation, handed them the "ID card of the commander of the Red Army" and a weighty "TT". The beardless lieutenants deafeningly shouted the number of the pistol and squeezed the dry general's hand with all their might. And at the banquet, the commanders of training platoons enthusiastically rocked and tried to settle scores with the foreman. However, everything turned out well, and this evening - the most beautiful of all evenings - began and ended solemnly and beautifully.

Actually, it all started a little earlier. At the ball that followed after the banquet, yesterday's cadets came with girls. And Kolya did not have a girlfriend, and he stammeringly invited the librarian Zoya. Zoya pursed her lips in concern, said thoughtfully: “I don’t know, I don’t know ...” - but she came. They danced, and Kolya, out of burning shyness, kept talking and talking, and since Zoya worked in the library, he talked about Russian literature. Zoya at first agreed, and in the end, touchily stuck out her clumsily painted lips:

- It hurts you crunch, comrade lieutenant.

In the language of the school, this meant that Lieutenant Pluzhnikov was asked. Then Kolya understood it that way, and when he arrived at the barracks, he found that he crunches in the most natural and pleasant way.

“I’m crunching,” he informed his friend and bunkmate, not without pride.

They were sitting on the windowsill in the corridor of the second floor. It was the beginning of June, and the nights at the school smelled of lilacs, which no one was allowed to break.

“Crack your health,” said a friend. - Only, you know, not in front of Zoya: she is a fool, Kolka. She is a terrible fool and is married to a foreman from an ammunition platoon.

But Kolya listened with half an ear, because he studied the crunch.

And he liked this crunch very much.

And for some reason, Kolya was not given travel documents (although there was nothing to drive: to Moscow). Kolya waited two days and was just about to go to find out when the orderly shouted from afar:

- Lieutenant Pluzhnikov to the commissioner! ..

The commissar, who looked very much like the suddenly aged artist Chirkov, listened to the report, shook hands, indicated where to sit, and silently offered cigarettes.

“I don’t smoke,” Kolya said and began to blush: he was generally thrown into a fever with extraordinary ease.

“Well done,” said the commissar. - And I, you know, I still can’t quit, I don’t have enough willpower.

And smoked. Kolya wanted to advise on how to temper the will, but the commissar spoke again:

“We know you, lieutenant, as an exceptionally conscientious and diligent person. We also know that you have a mother and sister in Moscow, that you haven't seen them for two years and you miss them. And you have a vacation. He paused, got out from behind the table, walked around, intently looking at his feet. - We know all this, and yet we decided to ask you specifically ... This is not an order, this is a request, mind you, Pluzhnikov. We no longer have the right to order you ...

- I'm listening, comrade regimental commissar. - Kolya suddenly decided that he would be offered to go work in intelligence, and he tensed all over, ready to yell deafeningly: “Yes!”

“Our school is expanding,” the commissar said. - The situation is complicated, there is a war in Europe, and we need to have as many combined arms commanders as possible. In this regard, we are opening two more training companies. But their states are not yet staffed, and the property is already coming. So we are asking you, comrade Pluzhnikov, to help sort out this property. Accept it, post it...

- Commander...

Hello, Comrade Lieutenant.

“I can’t see you anywhere, Comrade Lieutenant. And you don't come to the library anymore...

- Work.

- Have you been left at the school?

“I have a special task,” Kolya said vaguely.

For some reason, they were already walking side by side and not at all in that direction.

Zoya talked and talked, laughing incessantly; he didn't get the point, wondering why he was walking so obediently in the wrong direction. Then he worriedly wondered if his outfit had lost its romantic crunch, moved his shoulder, and the harness immediately answered with a tight noble creak ...

“…Eerily funny!” We laughed so hard, we laughed so hard. You're not listening, Comrade Lieutenant.

No, I'm listening. You laughed.

She stopped: her teeth flashed again in the darkness. And he no longer saw anything but that smile.

"You liked me, didn't you?" Well, tell me, Kolya, did you like it? ..

“No,” he answered in a whisper. - I just do not know. You are married.

“Married?” She laughed out loud. - Married, right? You were told? So what if you're married? I accidentally married him, it was a mistake ...

Somehow he took her by the shoulders. Or maybe he didn’t, but she herself moved them so deftly that his hands were suddenly on her shoulders.

"By the way, he's gone," she said matter-of-factly. - If you go along this alley to the fence, and then along the fence to our house, no one will notice. You want tea, Kolya, don't you?

He already wanted tea, but then a dark spot moved towards them from the alley twilight, swam up and said:

- Sorry.

- Comrade regimental commissar! Kolya shouted desperately, rushing after the figure that stepped aside. - Comrade regimental commissar, I ...

- Comrade Pluzhnikov? Why did you leave the girl? Hey, hey.

- Yes of course. - Kolya rushed back, said hastily: - Zoya, I'm sorry. Affairs. Service business.

What Kolya muttered to the commissar, getting out of the lilac alley to the calm expanse of the school parade ground, he had already forgotten an hour later. Something about a tailor's linen of a non-standard width, or, it seems, a standard width, but not quite a linen ... The commissar listened, listened, and then asked:

- What was that, your friend?

- No, no, what are you! Kolya got scared. - What are you, comrade regimental commissar, this is Zoya, from the library. I didn't give her the book, so...

And he fell silent, feeling that he was blushing: he greatly respected the good-natured elderly commissar and was embarrassed to lie. However, the commissar spoke of something else, and Kolya somehow came to his senses.

- It's good that you don't start the documentation: the little things in our military life play a huge disciplinary role. For example, a civilian can sometimes afford something, but we, the regular commanders of the Red Army, cannot. We cannot, for example, take a walk with a married woman, because we are in full view, we must always, every minute, be a model of discipline for our subordinates. And it's very good that you understand this... Tomorrow, Comrade Pluzhnikov, at eleven-thirty, I ask you to come to me. Let's talk about your future service, maybe we'll go to the general.

- Well, then, see you tomorrow. The commissar extended his hand, held it back, and said quietly: “But the book will have to be returned to the library, Kolya. Have to!..

Of course, it turned out very badly that I had to deceive a comrade regimental commissar, but for some reason Kolya was not too upset. In the future, a possible meeting with the head of the school was expected, and yesterday's cadet was looking forward to this meeting with impatience, fear and trembling, like a girl - a meeting with her first love. He got up long before he got up, polished his crisp boots until they glowed on their own, hemmed a fresh collar and polished all the buttons. In the command canteen - Kolya was monstrously proud that he fed in this canteen and personally paid for the food - he could not eat anything, but only drank three servings of dried fruit compote. And exactly at eleven he arrived at the commissioner.

- Oh, Pluzhnikov, great! - In front of the door of the commissar's office sat Lieutenant Gorobtsov - the former commander of Kolya's training platoon - also polished, ironed and tightened. - How's it going? Are you rounding off with footcloths?

Pluzhnikov was a thorough man and therefore told everything about his affairs, secretly wondering why Lieutenant Gorobtsov was not interested in what he, Kolya, was doing here. And finished with a hint:

“Yesterday, the comrade regimental commissar also asked me about business. And ordered...

Lieutenant Velichko was also the commander of a training platoon, but the second one, and he always argued with Lieutenant Gorobtsov on all occasions. Kolya did not understand anything from what Gorobtsov told him, but nodded politely. And when he opened his mouth to ask for clarification, the door of the commissar's office flung open and a beaming and also very ceremonial lieutenant Velichko came out.

“They gave me a company,” he said to Gorobtsov. - I want the same!

Gorobtsov jumped up, habitually straightened his tunic, driving all the folds back with one movement, and entered the office.

“Hello, Pluzhnikov,” Velichko said and sat down beside him. - Well, how are you, in general? All handed over and all accepted?

– In general, yes. - Kolya again spoke in detail about his affairs. Only I did not have time to hint anything about the commissar, because the impatient Velichko interrupted earlier:

- Kolya, they will offer - ask me. I said a few words there, but you, in general, ask.

- Where to ask?

Then the regimental commissar and lieutenant Gorobtsov came out into the corridor, and Velichko and Kolya jumped up. Kolya began “on your orders…”, but the commissar did not listen to the end:

- Let's go, comrade Pluzhnikov, the general is waiting. You are free, comrade commanders.

They went to the head of the school not through the reception room, where the duty officer was sitting, but through an empty room. At the back of this room was a door through which the commissar went out, leaving Kolya alone, preoccupied.

Until now, Kolya met with the general, when the general handed him a certificate and a personal weapon, which so pleasantly pulled his side. True, there was another meeting, but Kolya was embarrassed to remember it, and the general forgot forever.

This meeting took place two years ago, when Kolya - still a civilian, but already cut like a typewriter - along with other cut-cuts, had just arrived from the station to the school. Right on the parade ground, they unloaded their suitcases, and the mustachioed foreman (the same one whom they tried to beat after the banquet) ordered everyone to go to the bathhouse. They all went - still without formation, in a group, talking loudly and laughing - but Kolya hesitated, because he rubbed his leg and sat barefoot. While he was putting on his boots, everyone had already disappeared around the corner. Kolya jumped up, was about to rush after him, but then he was suddenly called out:

"Where are you, young man?"

The lean, short general looked at him angrily.

“The army is here, and orders in it are carried out unquestioningly. You are ordered to guard the property, so guard it until a shift comes or the order is canceled.

No one gave Kolya an order, but Kolya no longer doubted that this order, as it were, existed by itself. And so, clumsily stretching out and stifled shouting: “Yes, Comrade General!” - stayed with the suitcases.

And the guys, as a sin, failed somewhere. Then it turned out that after the bath they received cadet uniforms, and the foreman led them to a tailor's workshop so that everyone would fit the clothes to fit. All this took a lot of time, and Kolya dutifully stood near the unnecessary things. He stood and was extremely proud of it, as if guarding an ammunition depot. And no one paid any attention to him until two gloomy cadets who received extraordinary outfits for yesterday's AWOL came to pick up their things.

- I won't let you! Kolya shouted. - Don't you dare come close!

- What? one of the penalty boxers asked rather rudely. - Now I'll give it to the neck ...

- Back! shouted Pluzhnikov enthusiastically. - I'm a sentry! I order!..

Of course, he didn’t have a weapon, but he yelled so hard that the cadets decided not to get involved just in case. They went for the senior in line, but Kolya did not obey him either and demanded either a change or cancellation. And since there was no change and could not be, they began to find out who appointed him to this post. However, Kolya refused to enter into conversations and made noise until the school attendant appeared. The red armband had an effect, but, having handed over the post, Kolya did not know where to go and what to do. And the duty officer didn’t know either, and when they figured it out, the bathhouse was already closed, and Kolya had to live for another day as a civilian, but then incur the vengeful wrath of the foreman ...

And today we had to meet the general for the third time. Kolya wanted this and was desperately cowardly, because he believed in mysterious rumors about the participation of the general in the Spanish events. And having believed, he could not help but be afraid of the eyes that had only recently seen real fascists and real battles.

At last the door opened a crack, and the commissioner beckoned him with his finger. Kolya hurriedly straightened his tunic, licked his suddenly dry lips, and stepped behind the dull curtains.

The entrance was opposite the official one, and Kolya found himself behind the general's stooped back. This somewhat embarrassed him, and he shouted out the report not as clearly as he had hoped. The general listened and pointed to a chair in front of the table. Kolya sat down, putting his hands on his knees and straightening unnaturally. The general looked at him carefully, put on his glasses (Kolya was extremely upset when he saw these glasses ...) and began to read some sheets, filed in a red folder: Kolya did not yet know that this is exactly what he, Lieutenant Pluzhnikov, looks like, a private matter.

- All fives - and one three? the general was surprised. Why three?

“Troika in software,” said Kolya, blushing thickly, like a girl. “I’ll retake it, Comrade General.”

“No, comrade lieutenant, it’s already late,” the general chuckled.

“Excellent characteristics from the Komsomol and from the comrades,” the commissar said in a low voice.

“Uh-huh,” the general confirmed, plunging back into his reading.

The commissar went to the open window, lit a cigarette and smiled at Kolya as if he were an old acquaintance. Kolya politely moved his lips in response and again stared intently at the general's nose.

- Are you a good shooter? the general asked. – Prize-winning, one might say, shooter.

“I defended the honor of the school,” the commissar confirmed.

- Wonderful! The general closed the red folder, pushed it aside and took off his glasses. “We have a proposal for you, Comrade Lieutenant.

Kolya leaned forward eagerly, without uttering a word. After the post of commissioner for footcloths, he no longer hoped for intelligence.

“We suggest that you remain at the school as the commander of a training platoon,” the general said. - Responsible position. What year are you?

“I was born on the twelfth of April, one thousand nine hundred and twenty-two!” Kolya chimed in.

He spoke mechanically, because he was frantically thinking about what to do. Of course, the proposed position was extremely honorable for yesterday's graduate, but Kolya could not suddenly jump up and yell: “With pleasure, Comrade General!” He could not, because the commander - he was firmly convinced of this - becomes a real commander only after serving in the troops, having a meal with the fighters from one pot, having learned to command them. And he wanted to become such a commander and therefore went to the combined arms school, when everyone was raving about aviation or, in extreme cases, tanks.

“In three years you will be eligible to enter the academy,” the general continued. “And it looks like you need to study further.

“We will even give you the right to choose,” the commissar smiled. - Well, in whose company do you want: to Gorobtsov or to Velichko?

“Gorobetsov is probably tired of him,” the general chuckled.

Kolya wanted to say that he was not tired of Gorobtsov at all, that he was an excellent commander, but all this was useless, because he, Nikolai Pluzhnikov, was not going to stay at the school. He needs a unit, fighters, a sweaty platoon strap - everything that is called short word"service". So he wanted to say, but the words got confused in his head, and Kolya suddenly began to blush again.

“You can smoke, Comrade Lieutenant,” the general said, hiding his smile. - Smoke, think over the offer ...

“It won’t work,” the regimental commissar sighed. He doesn't smoke, that's bad luck.

“I don’t smoke,” Kolya confirmed and cleared his throat carefully. "Comrade General, may I please?"

- I'm listening, I'm listening.

- Comrade General, I thank you, of course, and thank you very much for your trust. I understand that this is a great honor for me, but still, allow me to refuse, Comrade General.

- Why? The regimental commissar frowned and stepped away from the window. - What's the news, Pluzhnikov?

The general looked at him silently. He watched with obvious interest, and Kolya cheered up:

- I believe that every commander should first serve in the troops, Comrade General. So we were told at the school, and the comrade regimental commissar himself at the gala evening also said that only in a military unit can one become a real commander.

The commissar coughed in confusion and returned to the window. The general was still looking at Kolya.

- And therefore, of course, thank you very much, Comrade General, - therefore I beg you very much: please send me to the unit. In any part and for any position.

Kolya fell silent, and there was a pause in the office. However, neither the general nor the commissar noticed her, but Kolya felt how she was stretching, and was very embarrassed.

- Of course, I understand, Comrade General, that ...

“But he’s a young man, commissar,” the chief suddenly said cheerfully. - You are a young man, lieutenant, by God, you are a young man!

And the commissar suddenly laughed and clapped Kolya hard on the shoulder:

Thanks for the memory, Pluzhnikov!

And all three smiled as if they had found a way out of a not very convenient situation.

- So, in part?

- To the unit, Comrade General.

- Won't you change your mind? - The boss suddenly switched to "you" and did not change this address.

“Does it matter where they send it?” the commissioner asked. - And what about the mother, sister? .. He has no father, Comrade General.

- I know. The general hid his smile, looked seriously, drummed his fingers on the red folder. “Will the Special West suit you, Lieutenant?”

Kolya turned pink: they dreamed of serving in the Special Districts as an unthinkable success.

- Do you agree with the platoon leader?

- Comrade General! .. - Kolya jumped up and immediately sat down, remembering discipline. “Thank you very much, Comrade General!”

“But with one condition,” the general said very seriously. - I give you, lieutenant, a year of military practice. And exactly in a year I will request you back, to the school, for the position of commander of a training platoon. I agree?

“I agree, Comrade General. If you order...

- Let's say, let's say! The commissioner laughed. - We need such non-smoking passion as we need.

“Only there’s one problem here, lieutenant: you can’t get a vacation. Maximum on Sunday you should be in the unit.

“Yes, you won’t have to stay with your mother in Moscow,” the commissar smiled. - Where does she live?

- On Ostozhenka ... That is, now it is called Metrostroevskaya.

- On Ostozhenka ... - the general sighed and, standing up, extended his hand to Kolya: - Well, happily serve, lieutenant. Wait a year, remember!

Boris Vasiliev is one of the most famous Russian writers who wrote about the war. His novels "The Dawns Here Are Quiet...", "The Wilderness", "Don't Shoot the White Swans" are imbued with love for people and native nature.

We will consider the story "I was not on the lists", the analysis of which is useful for studying the work at school.

The beginning of the military career of Kolya Pluzhnikov

The story opens with the story of a young guy Nikolai Pluzhnikov, who has everything in his life: a career (he was assigned a junior lieutenant), a new uniform, an upcoming vacation ... Pluzhnikov goes on one of the most best evenings in his life - to dances, where he invites the librarian Zoya! And even the request of the authorities to sacrifice their vacation and stay in order to deal with the property of the school does not overshadow the wonderful mood and life of Kolya Pluzhnikov.

After the commander asks about what Nikolai intends to do next, is he going to go to study at the academy. However, Kolya replies that he wants to "serve in the army", because it is impossible to become a real commander if he has not served. The general looks approvingly at Nikolai, beginning to respect him.

Nikolai is sent to the Western District, to Brest fortress.

Suddenly the war started...

An analysis of the work "He was not on the lists" (Vasiliev) is impossible without mentioning the intermediate stop of Kolya between the school and the fortress. This stop was his house. There Nikolai saw his mother, sister Varya and her friend Valya. The latter gave him a kiss and promised to wait without fail.

Nikolai Pluzhnikov leaves for Brest. There, Kolya hears that the Germans are preparing for war, but most of the townspeople do not believe in this, they do not take it seriously. In addition, Russians believe in the strength of the Red Army.

Kolya approaches the fortress, he is accompanied by the limping girl Mirra, who annoys Pluzhnikov with her chatter and awareness. They let Kolya through at the checkpoint, give him a room for business trips and promise to deal with his distribution later.

At 4 am on June 22, 1941, the Brest Fortress began to be bombed. Boris Vasiliev knew how to describe the war very realistically. "Not on the lists" analyzes and shows the whole situation in which soldiers like Kolya Pluzhnikov have to fight, their thoughts and dreams about home and relatives.

The last Hero

After the German attack, all the Russians who were at the Brest Fortress hope that the Red Army is about to arrive and provide assistance, the most important thing is to live to see help. But the Red Army is still gone, and the Germans are already walking around the fortress, as if at home. The story "He was not on the lists", the analysis of which we are doing, describes how a small handful of people sit in the basement of the fortress and eat up the found crackers. They sit without cartridges, without food. It's real Russian frost outside. These people are waiting for help, but it is still not available.

People sitting in the basement begin to die. Only Nikolai Pluzhnikov remains. He shoots the last bullets at the Germans, while he himself constantly hides in crevices. During one of the runs to another place, he finds a secluded place, climbs in there and suddenly ... he hears a human voice! There Pluzhnikov sees a very thin man in a padded jacket. He is crying. It turns out that he has not seen people for three weeks.

Pluzhnikov dies at the end of the story. But he dies after being rescued by Russian troops. He falls to the ground, looks up to the sky and dies. Nikolai Pluzhnikov was the only living Russian soldier after the Germans invaded the Brest Fortress, which means that it was not completely conquered. Nikolai Pluzhnikov dies a free, undefeated man.

The story "He was not on the lists", the analysis of which we are doing, does not hold back tears in the finale of the work. Boris Vasiliev writes in such a way that every word literally touches the soul.

The history of the creation of the work

At the end of the story, readers watch a woman arrive at the Brest railway station and lay flowers. It is written on the tablet that during the Great Patriotic War the station was guarded by Nikolai (his last name is unknown). Boris Vasilyev became a witness to this story, which happened in reality.

“He didn’t appear on the lists” (an analysis of this story is impossible without relying on the following facts) - a work based on the fact that Vasilyev himself was driving past the station in Brest and noticed a woman standing in front of a sign with an inscription about the unknown Nikolai. He questioned her and found out that during the war there was such a soldier who fell a hero.

Boris Vasilyev tried to look for something about him in documents and archives, but found nothing. Because the soldier was not on the lists. Then Vasiliev came up with a story for him and conveyed it to our generation.

love line

First, Nikolai Pluzhnikov fell in love with Valya, his sister's friend. She promised to wait for him, and Kolya promised to return. However, in the war, Nicholas fell in love again. Yes, love broke out between him and that same lame Mirra. They sat in the basement and planned how they would get out of there and go to Moscow. And in Moscow they will go to the theater... Mirra will put a prosthesis and will no longer limp... Kolya and Mirra indulged in such dreams, sitting in a cold, gray, God-forsaken basement.

Mirra got pregnant. The couple realized that it was impossible for Mirra to stay in the basement and eat only breadcrumbs. She needs to get out to save the baby. However, it falls into the hands of the Germans. The Germans beat Mirra for a long time, then they pierce her with bayonets and leave her to die in front of Pluzhnikov.

Other characters in the story

Pluzhnikov is at war with the soldier Salnikov. It's amazing how war changes people! From a green youth, he turns into a stern man. Before his death, he blames himself for the fact that he often thought not about the course of the battle itself, but about how he would be met at home. He can't be blamed for this. None of the young guys who were at the Brest Fortress was warned and prepared to meet the enemies face to face.

One of the main characters mentioned above is Mirrochka. A girl who should not have been at the Brest Fortress at such a difficult time! She needed the protection of her hero - Kolya, whom she, perhaps, partly in gratitude and fell in love with.

Thus, Boris Vasiliev ("He was not on the lists"), whose work we analyzed, created the story of one hero, whose feat personifies the feats of all Russian soldiers in the Great Patriotic War.

The book “Not on the Lists” by Boris Vasiliev tells about one hero who personifies the exploits of many people. This story is heartbreaking and brings tears to my eyes. The book tells not only about war, heroism, patriotism, but also about love, honor, justice, the value of human life and the ability to fight to the last breath.

It is known that the writer came up with the idea of creating the story when he was at the railway station in Brest. He saw a woman who brought flowers to a tablet with the name of Nikolai. The writer asked the woman, it turned out that this was a hero whose last name was never found out. Boris Vasiliev tried to find at least some information about him, but Nikolai was not on the lists. And the writer came up with his last name and told his story.

The life of Kolya Pluzhnikov is developing quite well. Recently he became a second lieutenant, he was given new form vacation ahead of him. In a good mood, he goes to the dance, where he invited a pretty girl. When the commander asks if Nikolai is going to go to the academy, he replies that he wants to serve first. After all, to become a good commander, you need to see and feel everything yourself.

Nicholas is sent to the Brest Fortress. On the way, he calls home, where he falls in love with young Valya, whom he promises to return to, and she will be waiting for him. When he arrived at the fortress, he learned that there were rumors that the Germans were going to start a war. Few people take this seriously, especially since everyone is confident in the strength of the Red Army. On the morning of June 22, German troops attacked the fortress. The Russians hope that the Soviet troops will arrive soon, but there is still no help. They are forced to fight for their lives themselves, hiding from the Germans in a damp basement.

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Boris Vasiliev

Not on the list

Part one

I’m crunching,” he informed his friend and bunkmate, not without pride.

They were sitting on the windowsill in the corridor of the second floor. It was the beginning of June, and the nights at the school smelled of lilacs, which no one was allowed to break.

Take care of yourself, said a friend. - Only, you know, not in front of Zoya: she is a fool, Kolka. She is a terrible fool and is married to a foreman from an ammunition platoon.

But Kolka listened with half an ear, because he studied the crunch. And he liked this crunch very much.

Lieutenant Pluzhnikov to the commissar! ..

The commissar, who looked very much like the suddenly aged artist Chirkov, listened to the report, shook hands, indicated where to sit, and silently offered cigarettes.

I don’t smoke,” said Kolya and began to blush: he was generally thrown into a fever with extraordinary ease.

Well done, said the commissioner. - And I, you know, I still can’t quit, I don’t have enough willpower.

And smoked. Kolya wanted to advise on how to temper the will, but the commissar spoke again.

I'm listening, comrade regimental commissar. - Kolya suddenly decided that he would be offered to go work in intelligence, and he tensed up, ready to yell deafeningly: “Yes! ..”

Commander…

Hello Comrade Lieutenant.

You are nowhere to be seen, Comrade Lieutenant. And you don't come to the library anymore...

Are you left at the school?

- ... terribly funny! We laughed so much, we laughed so much... You're not listening, Comrade Lieutenant.

No, I'm listening. You laughed.

She stopped: her teeth flashed again in the darkness. And he no longer saw anything but that smile.

You liked me, didn't you? Well, tell me, Kolya, did you like it? ..

No, he answered in a whisper. - I just do not know. You are married.

Married? .. - She laughed noisily: - Married, right? You were told? Well, what if you're married? I accidentally married him, it was a mistake ...

Somehow he took her by the shoulders. Or maybe he didn’t take it, but she herself moved them so deftly that his hands were on her shoulders.

By the way, he's gone," she said matter-of-factly. - If you go along this alley to the fence, and then along the fence to our house, no one will notice. You want tea, Kolya, right? ..

He already wanted tea, but then a dark spot moved towards them from the alley twilight, swam up and said:

Sorry.

Comrade regimental commissar! Kolya shouted desperately, rushing after the figure that stepped aside. - Comrade regimental commissar, I ...

Comrade Pluzhnikov? Why did you leave the girl? Hey, hey.

Yes, yes, of course, - Kolya rushed back, said hastily: - Zoya, I'm sorry. Affairs. Service business.

What Kolya muttered to the commissar, getting out of the lilac alley to the calm expanse of the school parade ground, he had already forgotten an hour later. Something about a tailor's cloth of a non-standard width, or, it seems, a standard width, but not quite a cloth ... The commissar listened and listened, and then asked:

What was that, your friend?

Women's Portal Flero

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Part one

1

The beginning of the military career of Kolya Pluzhnikov

Suddenly the war started...

The last Hero

The history of the creation of the work

love line

Other characters in the story

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