Portartur. 1940. Boris Trofimov
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Название: Portartur. 1940
Автор: Boris Trofimov
Издательство: Издательские решения
Жанр: Мифы. Легенды. Эпос
isbn: 9785449682581
isbn:
One evening he called the host to the arba. – You have to go, you have to go soon.
The Chinese again wondered. An old woman came out into the yard. The girls ran to the orlovtsu, they have become accustomed to it.
– What, again, wanted sugar? I will give sugar, dam, – the gunner laughed and put the children in the arba. Turning to the fanzi host, he said:
– Grandmother sit, madame sit, and then let’s go. – Konevyazov harnessed himself in a cart and drove her a few steps to the gate.
The girls laughed and waved their hands, but the Chinese did not understand anything. The seriousness with which the orlovets spoke, worried him. He looked around in bewilderment and, crouching down in the middle of the courtyard, lit a pipe.
– Tunda? – asked orlovets.
“Butunda,” the Chinese replied, and his face showed annoyance.
On the next day, the gunner remained pragmatic. Women often came out of the fanza and looked at the familiar Russian soldier who walked around the yard with an important look, guarding sacks of barley and hay bales. Around noon, the host approached the Orlovs, took his hand and led him to the corner of the fanza. A Chinese with a pale face came out to meet them; having examined the artilleryman, the stranger bowed and said in Russian:
– Hello. I came here at the request of the owner. You ask him for something, but he does not know what it is. Tell me, and I will tell him.
Ege, what a suave, thought Orlovets.
– I do not ask for anything and the Russian soldier does not need anything. Why did he stay in the village and not leave, like other peasants?
The stranger spoke with the host fanza, replied:
– He has a family secret.
– When he tells a secret, then I will give him advice.
The Chinese held a long meeting.
– The question concerns his wife. She has to give birth in a month. He has no son. We, the Chinese, cannot have a son. The oracle said: if his wife resolves under the roof of his ancestors, then they will have a son. So he waits.
– Hitch. Ancestral roof? Own home means. – Konevyazov thought. – And you tell him that the wife should give birth under the open sky. It is the roof of the ancestors. Do you understand?
The translator opened his mouth, opened his eyes, and the soldier continued with enthusiasm.
– The sky – our common roof forever and ever. Fanza host new. Therefore, his father, and even more so, his grandfather, could not be born in it. Ask.
In the eyes of the translator flashed a spark of satisfaction.
“He says father was born in the north.”
– So I knew! – exclaimed Orlovets. – Let him take his family and go away from here. Yes, that his wife must have given birth under the open sky. Then there will be a son.
The peasant, having listened to the words of the translator, happily nodded his head:
– Shango, captain!
– That’s it! – Konevyazov looked around, but the translator had already disappeared.
The owner hastily left the fanzu. Soon all the women came to the threshold and bowed to the orlovtsu.
About an hour after the departure of the translator, the thought struck:
– Why, it was a Japanese, a Japanese spy! What is I gaping. He needed information, and he took the risk. Scoundrel!..
Chapter nine
one
The sky was gloomy. It was raining. A steam locomotive puffed around the water pump station at Kinzhou. The top of Mount Samson is shrouded in a grayish cloud. On the platform is empty, but behind the station building, A little further wire barriers, noise. They stopped to rest field batteries. Fed black horses snorted and bellowed. The gunners fussed at the cannons, clearing dirt from the guns and wheels. Past south along the road were arrows.
Gunners, army soldiers, fireworks, non-commissioned officers and officers often raised their heads and looked to the left of Mount Samson. They all knew that far ahead of them were horse hunters, watchdog chains and Cossack patrols. But nevertheless, they intensely peered into that strontium, where a few days ago the enemy attacked the railway, cut the wires and blew up the bridge.
And here is the latest news: the Japanese land a Bitszyvo. Soldiers and junior officers were preparing for a serious business, and were eagerly awaiting orders to march to destroy the landing force. Cheerful mood did not leave them.
Twilight was gathering. Lit fires. Troops arrived from Arthur. On the left, on the Nanshan Mountain, looming fortifications of the Kinzhou position. She was the key to Port Arthur.
An infantryman and an artilleryman with bowlers stopped under a roof canopy. – Where we are going? The infantryman asked.
– Landing smash.
– Why was it allowed to go to the beach? You had to sink him from your cannons on the water in boats. Let go and shy.
– The authorities know what to do. For the time being, you should not frighten off… Lure and rivet.
– Still strange.
– Clear picture. If our fleet had not been treacherously blown up, they would have been cracked into the sea, but now cunning and caution are needed until they repair our warships.
“Yet it would have been more convenient for the enemy to destroy the sea.” The boat is full of people, the wave shakes, and then bang shrapnel – and all to the bottom. And we, the infantry, it would be easier to kill those who reached the coast.
The infantryman thought his own thought: five or six miles of artillery should not allow the enemy to the infantry, and the shooters only need to secure the positions left by the enemy. The soldier believed it. He liked guns, horses – fire, and gunners – hefty guys and, you see, dodgers.
– Do not perish – grinned Gunner. – Look, what kind of artillery we have and what position?.. But the commanders know how best to finish off the enemy. Now, mate, everything is cleverly invented. Your head is spinning, and they have everything to the point… We shot at an invisible goal on the doctrine. The officer commands: the target is such СКАЧАТЬ