The Russians didn’t summon the courage to attack us even while we were on the road, when fighting columns are particularly vulnerable, despite their overwhelming superiority in troop strength (even going by their figures), and there wasn’t time for them to mass more troops and hardware along our route.[45] We would halt at each stopping place for only as long as was needed for any straggling groups to catch up with us – generally it was from dawn to dusk. The enemy could not ascertain where the group would stop next. Only the group’s top command had this information – even the junior and intermediate commanders learnt about it only at the last minute. They did, however, manage to mine our already reconnoitred route out of the city. The explanation for this was quite simple: a covert observation post set up by the Russians had noticed the Chechen scouts walking along the route, and, just to be safe, as the rules of war dictated, they had mined it. And although it came as a complete shock to find ourselves stepping into a minefield on land that had been reconnoitred earlier – and we lost comrades there, including commanders – the fighters kept their wits in this unforeseen situation and they performed their mission honourably. Throughout pretty much the entire two-week journey from Grozny to the mountains of Shatoy, this minefield at the exit from the city was the only surprise from the Russians that the group encountered.
From then on, the Russians’ actions would follow the same pattern: they’d quickly cut off the village where the group had halted for the day, using the considerable forces they had available, but they would not dare enter into close combat, instead keeping to heavy artillery shelling and air strikes. And while they waited for reinforcements, the resistance fighters, who’d spent the past months fighting while fully encircled, found it easy to battle their way out of the blockade and go on their way. Another thing that worked to our advantage was the fact that the Russian officers, whether consciously or not, were reluctant to come to the aid of other units. It meant operating virtually in the dark, without proper reconnaissance, and against a seasoned opponent. And it was they who’d face the blame for any losses, rather than the units they were rescuing.
People met us in a variety of ways. In the vast majority of villages all the inhabitants would come out to the edge of the village and welcome the groups of fighters as heroes. They put them up in their homes, fed them and let them dry their clothes. In one village some locals (thankfully not many) wouldn’t allow the fighters into their houses, not even to perform their obligatory prayers. The idea of using or threatening to use force against these people was unthinkable. None of the fighters would have stooped so low.
The men had no need to carry more than the minimum of provisions, as we were travelling most of the way through populated areas. At the expense of field rations, they carried as much ammunition as possible. Unlike food, that was something you could not pick up anywhere, and supplies were being continually spent. Now and then you might manage to seize some trophy weapons, but if you ran short of ammunition, they were nothing but trophies. In the villages where we stopped, the group would be replenished with new recruits. These were volunteers joining our ranks to fight in the war. And though we had no weapons to spare for them, nobody had the right to prevent them from defending their homeland. That was, after all, the key principle of a people’s war, of partisan warfare: the only men fighting were those willing and able to fight, and, unlike the army, there was no compulsion. That’s why partisan forces are traditionally stronger in spirit.
I remember some young lads who joined up with us on the road. They came from different villages. The youngest was fifteen and the eldest nineteen. At first I thought they were attracted by the romance of war: all the fighters in white camouflage smocks and bristling with weapons did indeed make an impressive picture. But after talking with them I realized that romance wasn’t the main factor behind their decision. I asked them, ‘Why have you chosen this difficult and thankless path? You’re so young!’
They replied, ‘Have you ever witnessed a “cleansing op”?’
I answered truthfully that I hadn’t yet done so. They continued: ‘Well, when you see one, that’ll put an end to your questions. You have no idea what it’s like to stand to attention in front of a grungy, louse-infested soldier, who in normal circumstances wouldn’t even dare look you in the eye. To see his revolting grin and listen to his insults and taunts… And knowing that you’ve got to take all this not from some strong warrior who’s defeated you in battle, but from this vile, barely human scum, who gets all his strength from numbers and weapons. You start loathing not just him, but also yourself, for meekly taking this humiliation. Well, from now on we’re not going to take it any more.’
I didn’t ask them any more questions. They died very soon after, no doubt due to their inexperience. One of them lived barely twenty-four hours; the second a little longer – two days. The third survived this trek, but he was killed later.
It came as quite a shock for the defenders of the capital to find out how much moral support they enjoyed among the population. After so many days and nights besieged by our mortal enemies, we’d begun to forget that beyond our fiery encirclement there was a life to which we were connected and there were people who hadn’t forgotten us. We’d begun to forget there was a Chechen people, who identified with us and admired our glorious battle. Glorious not through its heroism, but glorious simply for being. And as for the stereotypical heroism where the hero sacrifices himself in the name of victory – whether that is in fact heroism at all is open to debate.
11
In the last days of January, plenty of snow was piling up in the city. This fluffy white heavenly grace concealed all traces of the fierce fighting. The snow fell in big soft flakes and the world became a wonderful fairy-tale blur. And no matter how much the Devil rejoiced in the war, filling every alley with the hum of shrapnel, lavishing blasts upon every courtyard and street, he was powerless against the snow. He could not take away the good spirits this clean, soft snow brought us. The most important thing in war is not the past, not the future, but the present moment. And if in the present something delightful is happening, even if it’s nothing exceptional, why not be happy? Teetering between life and death, you were always living in the present. Not glancing over your shoulder at the past or peering into the future. That made things easier.
But the snowfall doesn’t know and doesn’t care about what is easier for you. It simply jerks you out of your diabolical present and for a brief time leads you by the hand – like when you were a child and your mother led you back home from the streets after you’d become lost in play – to a distant, joyous past. This past is an illusion. What you so bombastically refer to as your past is in fact the life of some other guy, someone you thought of as yourself. But he is not you. You and he are two different people; as unalike as a crystal and a stone. He was a young romantic. You are a mature cynic. He trusts people. You do not trust even yourself. He loves to laugh and dream. You like to think and analyse. He is in love and sure of himself. You are lonely and doubt yourself. The only thing you have in common is your faith in God. But here too you’re not quite the same: he just believes unthinkingly, whereas you believe consciously.
45
It is worth stressing that the Russian General Staff had no operational plan called Wolf Pit, as their generals subsequently claimed. If such a plan had been carried out, the losses during the breakout would have been 30 or 40 per cent of the men, if not more, given that for most of the way we were moving through occupied territory. In reality, though, we lost less than 5 per cent during the entire two-week march towards the mountains, which reflects the flawlessness of the operation from a military perspective. The Russian generals, as always, were simply trying to explain away their incompetence retrospectively. They have traditionally been great strategists of their battles after the event.