Chapter 22 2

Understand them too!Prison is their home.No matter how much the authorities comfort them, no matter how much their punishment is mitigated, no matter how much amnesty is granted to them--the inner destiny leads them to return here again and again....Wasn't the first word of the Islands' legislation written for them?In our country private property was effectively abolished for a time even outside the prison (and later the abolitionist himself fell in love with possession)—why should it be tolerated in prison?You were too slow, you didn't eat your bacon in time, you didn't share your sugar and tobacco with your friends - and now the thieves come to rummage through your clothes to right you morally wrong.Toss you a pair of well-worn shoe sockets for your dainty boots.Swap your fleece sweater for a greasy old gown.These things don't last long in their hands: your boots are worth only five poker games.The sweater will change hands tomorrow for a liter of vodka and a bunch of sausages.One day they will have nothing like you.This is the second law of thermodynamics: all differences tend towards equilibrium, towards disappearance.

Don't have it!Don't have everything!The Buddha, the Christ, the Stoics, the Sinikes all taught us this.Why do we, who are so greedy, always fail to comprehend this simple teaching?Don't we understand that property will destroy our souls? Now that a fresh fish has been delivered, let it be kept in your pocket until the next deportation station, so as not to beg for a drink in the car.Bread and sugar distributed for two days at a time?Then eat it all at once.In this way, no one can steal it, so don't worry.You will be as free as a bird in the sky. Have those things that you can always take with you: know languages, know countries, know people, and make memory your bag.Remember everything!Remember everything!Only these seeds of pain may one day germinate and germinate.

Look around - people are all around you.Perhaps you will recall one of them often for the rest of your life, and regret not taking the opportunity to ask him about his experiences.Talk less to yourself - hear more.The countless threads of human life stretched from one island of the archipelago to another, intertwined only overnight in such rumbling, semi-dark carriages, and then separated forever.Hear their faint humming and the rhythmic thud of the undercarriage—the rattling of the spindles of life. What strange stories cannot be heard here!How many hilarious jokes! Look at that active young Frenchman by the fence.Why does he keep spinning around there?What was he so surprised about?Go and explain to him!At the same time, you might as well ask him in detail how he got in.There was one man who knew French, so we know: his name was Max Sandel, a French soldier.He was just as prowling and curious when he was out there--his sweet France.He was politely told not to hang around the Russian repatriation station, but he stayed there and refused to leave.At this time the Russians bought him a drink, and after a while he lost his memory.When he woke up, he was already lying on the floor of the plane cabin.He found himself in the uniform of the Red Army, the boots of the convoy trampling on him.They have now announced that he has been sentenced to ten years of hard labor.This... Of course it must be a prank, it will be explained clearly in the future, right?Oh yes dear, figured it out, wait 1 (he was sentenced again in a labor camp, twenty-five years, and was released from Ozerlag in 1957.) Such things It was not unusual in 1945-46.

The above is a French-Russian story, please listen to another Russian-French story.No, where!It should be said to be a purely Russian story, because who but the Russians could make such a mess?In all ages of the history of our country, there have been some "people who cannot be accommodated", such as Menshikov who cannot be accommodated in Berezovo's hut in Surikov's painting.Although this Ivan Kovelchenko is a strong man of medium height, there is still no room for him.The reason was that the young man was pale and red, like blood dripping from milk, and it happened that the devil mixed it with brandy.He is quite fond of talking about his deeds and making fun of himself.Those stories he told can be called treasures, and they are really worth listening to.It is true that you have not been able to guess for a long time, why on earth he was arrested?Why is he considered a political prisoner?But there is no need to regard the sign "Political Prisoner" as a badge of honor.Doesn't it make the same difference with what kind of rake you use to get you in?

Everyone knows that it is the Germans, not us, who are secretly preparing for chemical warfare.So, through the fault of some idiot in the quartermaster department, it is very unpleasant that our army retreated from Kuban and left a large pile of chemical bombs on an airfield somewhere.The Germans could use these things to create an international scandal.At this time, the superior equipped Captain Kovirchenko, who was born in Krasnodar, with 20 paratroopers and dropped them to the rear of the German army.The task is to bury all these extremely harmful bombs in the ground. (The reader has already guessed the following and yawned: then he was captured and now a traitor. But you didn't guess a single bit of it!) Kovirchenko performed his task brilliantly, taking the twentieth man Returned to our side through the line of fire without loss and was nominated for the title of Hero of the Soviet Union.

But the approval process can take a month or two to complete.Moreover, if even the title of "hero" can't hold you, what should you do? The title of "hero" is generally awarded to good children who are excellent in military and politics.And your soul is on fire, something has to be poured right away, and there's nothing to pour.How should this be done?Since you are the hero of the whole Soviet Union, don't those grandsons still be reluctant to give you an extra liter of vodka?Although Kovirchenko had never heard of Caligula, he also rode up to the second floor of the city military council.He said to the city defense commander: Hey, send me some vodka! (He thinks it is more airy to adopt this method, like a hero, and it is not easy to refuse.) He was arrested because of this?No, where are you talking?Because of this, he was downgraded from a hero to a recipient of the Order of the Red Banner.

Kovelchenko needs to drink too much, but how can vodka always be available?Brains must be used.In Poland, he prevented the Germans from blowing up a bridge.He then felt that the bridge was his private property.Before the arrival of our military authorities, he collected bridge tolls from Polish pedestrians and vehicles: If it weren't for me, your bridge would have disappeared.Bastards!He collected bridge tolls (drink money) for a day and a night, and he got tired of it.It's not a problem to keep poking at the bridgehead-Captain Kovelchenko proposed a fair solution to the local Poles: buy the bridge from him. (Jail for that? No.) He didn't ask much, but the Poles were stingy and couldn't get them together.Mr. Captain left the bridge and gave up.To hell with it, let you pass for free!

In 1949 he served as Chief of Staff of the Parachute Regiment in Polotsk.The political department of the division was very troubled by Major Kovelchenko, because his political studies were a mess.Once he wanted to write an appraisal for him to study in a military academy.After sending it out, he glanced at it and threw it on the table; "I don't want to go to the military academy with this identification number, I'd better go to Bandera!" He squatted for ten years, but got away with it.) Plus he granted an illegal leave for a soldier at this time, and he himself drove drunk and crashed a truck.For this reason, he was punished for ten days in confinement.His guards were his soldiers, and they loved him so much that they let him out of his confinement to wander about the village.This kind of "confinement" could have been tolerated, but the Political Department frightened him with the court again!Kovirchenko was annoyed at this moment: Oh, so it is; plant the bomb—Ivan, go!Putting you in jail for a broken Jeep?At night he climbed out of the window and escaped to the Dvina River.He knew a friend was hiding there.A motorboat.He got in the car and drove off.

It turned out that he was not a forgetful alcoholic: he wanted revenge for all the harm done to him by the Political Department.He abandoned the ship in Lithuania and ran to the Lithuanians: "Boys, take me to your guerrillas and take me in. You won't regret it. Let's get them all together!" But the Lithuanians decided He was sent by the authorities. Ivan had a bank letter of credit sewn into his clothes.He bought a ticket to Cuban.However, by the time the train approached Moscow, he was drunk in the dining car.Walking out of the station, squinting at Moscow, he said to a taxi driver, "Take me to the embassy!" "Which one?" "Which country?" "France." "Okay!"

Perhaps his thoughts were confused.The intention of going to the embassy was the same, and now it is the same.But his dexterity and physical strength were not weakened at all; instead of alarming the police at the gate of the embassy, ​​he slipped quietly into a side street and climbed over the two-person-high smooth fence.Inside the embassy courtyard it went relatively smoothly: no one detected or hindered it.He walked into the building, passed one room after another, and saw a table with food on it. There were many things on the table, but the thing he was most curious about was pears.He was so hungry that he stuffed the pockets of his military jacket and trousers to the brim.At this moment the hosts came in for supper.Kovelchenko pre-empted them, shouting at them: "Ah, you Frenchmen!" He suddenly remembered that the French had not done a single good thing for a hundred years. "Why don't you make a revolution? Why do you want to bring de Gaulle to power? Do you want us to feed you the Cuban wheat? You can't do it all!!" The French were scared wrong: "Who are you? Where are you? Come?" Kovelchenko immediately got his business, and said, with an appropriate tone: "Major of the Ministry of State Security." The Frenchman said in bewilderment: "Anyway, you shouldn't have barged in. You What's the matter?" "I'm here to fuck your ancestors!!" Kovirchenko said this straight to the point and from the bottom of his heart.He played a rogue in front of the French for a while, and suddenly heard the next door calling to report his incident.His mind was still clear enough to start retreating.But the pears in the pocket fell all the way, and there were bursts of ridicule behind the buttocks.

However, not only did he have the strength to get out of the embassy unharmed, but he was able to keep going.The next morning he woke up at Moscow's Kyiv station (presumably to go to Western Ukraine?), and that's where he was caught. During the investigation, he was beaten by Abakumov himself, and the scar on his back was swollen as thick as a palm.Of course, the Minister touched him not to steal pears, nor to reprimand the French, but to ask him to confess: who bought him?When did you buy it?Needless to say, the sentence is twenty-five years. There are many such stories, but at night, as in the other cars, the "Zek Car" is also silent.No fish will be sent out at night, no water will be given, and there will be no relief. At this time, as in other cars, the car is filled with the uniform rattle of the wheels, which does not disturb the silence in the car.At this time, if the escort left the corridor again, the male prisoner in private room No. 3 could whisper to the female prisoner in private room No. 4. Talking to a female prisoner in prison - it's unusual.There is something sublime about it, even when it's all about laws and sentences. On one occasion, such a conversation lasted all night.Here's the situation: it happened in July 1950, and there was only one passenger in the women's compartment.She was a young girl, the daughter of a Moscow doctor, sentenced under 58-10.There was a noise from the male prisoner's private room: the escort team drove all the male prisoners in the three private rooms into two (you don't need to ask how many people are packed into each room).Then, bring in a sinner who is nothing like a prisoner.First, he didn't shave his head.His wavy, blond hair--really curly--covered his graceful, massive head defiantly.He was young, dignified, and dressed in a British army newspaper.The escort showed respect as he led him through the corridor (the instructions written in his portfolio frightened the escort team a little)--the girl saw all this.But the man did not see the girl (how he regretted it afterwards!). Based on the chaotic voices and chaotic footsteps, the girl judged that a private room was reserved for this person, right next door to her.Obviously he was not allowed to associate with anyone.So she was all the more interested in talking to him.You can't see between private rooms, but you can hear each other when the car is quiet.In the evening, the carriage became quiet.The girl sat down on a bench next to the fence and greeted him in a low voice (perhaps singing softly at first. This behavior should have been punished by the escort, but the escort had gone to sleep and there was no one in the corridor).When the stranger heard the greeting, he sat in the same place according to the method she taught.Now they are sitting back to back, clinging to a three-centimeter-thick partition, with their mouths facing the edge of the partition, letting their voices pass through the fence, talking quietly.Their heads and lips were so close that they seemed to be kissing, but not only could they not touch each other, they could not even look at each other. Eric? Arvid? Anderson's ability to listen to Russian is adequate, and there are still many language problems in speech, but he can basically express his meaning.He told the girl about his strange experience (we will hear it at the deportation station).The girl also told him the simple experience of a Moscow female college student who violated Article 58.0.But Arvid listened intently, and he asked the girl many questions about Soviet youth and life in the Soviet Union.What he heard was completely different from what he had learned from the Western left-wing press and from his own official visits to the Soviet Union. They talked all night.For Arvid, it all came together that night: the strange prisoner's carriage in a strange country; the rhythmic click-click of the night train that echoes forever in our hearts; the beauty of the girl Her voice, her whispers, her breathing close to the ear--close to the ear, but not even to look at her! (He hadn't heard a woman's voice for a year and a half.) Through this invisible (and possibly, and certainly beautiful) girl he saw for the first time real Russia.All night the voice of Russia had spoken to him the truth.A person's first understanding of a country can also be obtained in this way. (In the morning he will also see through the car window the dark thatched roofs of Russia—and hear the mournful murmur of an invisible docent.) Yes, all this is Russia: the prisoner who gave up his appeal during the journey, the girl on the other side of the partition of the "Stalin" private room, the escort team who went back to sleep, the pears that fell out of their pockets, the bombs that were buried, and climbed to the second floor horse. "Gendarmerie! Gendarme!" cried the prisoners joyfully.They are happy that the next part of the journey will be escorted by the military police, and there is no need for an escort team. I forgot to put the quotes again.The above words were spoken by Korolenko himself.Admittedly, we were not happy when we saw the blue hoop, but if you met the pendulum in the "Zeck Car", whoever you met would be happy. Ordinary passengers need a little skill to get on the train at a small halfway station, but what's so great about getting off? --Throw things down first, and then jump down.Prisoners are very different.If the local prison guard or police don't come to pick up the car or come two minutes late - yes!The train started, and the guilty prisoner was pulled to the next deportation station.If there is a deportation station to take you in, that's not bad, and you will be given food again.But sometimes they pull you all the way to the terminus of the line, and they make you wait eighteen hours in an empty car, and then pull you back after a new prisoner is loaded.When you arrive at the original station, there may be no one to pick you up, and you enter a dead end again, and you have to wait at the other end.Be aware that you will not be provided with food during this entire period!Be aware that your rations will only go as far as the first deportation station.The local jail is sloppy and the accounting office is irresponsible.Because you have been transferred to the accounts of Tulong Prison.The escort team is under no obligation to feed you their own bread.They can swing you six rounds like this (had!): Irkutsk-Krasnoyarsk, Krasnoyarsk-Irkutsk, Irkutsk- -Krasnoyarsk... When you finally see the blue hoop cap on the platform in Turon, you can't wait to run up and wrap your arms around his neck: my darling, thank you for saving my life! Two days in the "Zek Carriage" can drag you down exhausted, out of breath, and numb.So when you encounter a big city on the way, you don't know which is better: to suffer a little more and reach the destination quickly, or to let it go to the deportation station and relax a little bit. But lo and behold the convoy is busy and running.They came out in their greatcoats and beat the floor with the butts of their rifles.This means they want all the prisoners to get out of the car. They first form a circle in front of the door pedals, and as soon as you fall, fall or roll off the pedals, they immediately shout at you from all directions (this is specially trained): "Sit down! Sit down! Sit down!" Several people shouting at you at the same time without making you look up is very effective.As if under bombardment, you can't help grinning, scurrying (where are you going?), hunched over, catching up with the people who got off the bus first, and sitting with them. "Sit down!" is a clear command, but if you're a newcomer, you don't know what it means.On the waiting line of Ivanovo station, when I heard this command, I was holding a suitcase (if the suitcase was not made in a labor camp, but an outside product, its handle would always break, And always at the worst time) to run forward.I finally put the box on the ground, and sat down on it without looking at how others were sitting.My officer's overcoat is not too dirty, and the hem is not cut short, so I can't sit on the sleepers in it, or sit on the sand soaked with stinky oil!The captain of the escort team - with a ruddy face and a thick Russian face - came striding forward, and before I had time to figure out why he was doing this and what he was going to do, I saw that he was obviously going to punish him with that sacred big leather boot. My sinful back.But I don't know what stopped him--he didn't regret his well-polished boot toe, and he kicked my box hard, puncturing the lid. "Sit down!" He gave an explanation.Only then did I suddenly realize that I stood like a tower among the prisoners around me.I figured out how to sit before I even had time to ask the question "how should I sit?", so like everyone else, like a dog in front of the door and a cat behind the door, I wore my distressed army coat Sitting down on the ground. (I have kept this chest. Now whenever I see it, I am in the habit of running my fingers over its break. Its break will not heal, unlike wounds on body and heart. Things are more important than people. Remember.) This sitting method is also exquisite.If the buttocks are sitting on the ground, the knees are bound to be raised, and the center of gravity is moved to the back, so that it is not easy to stand up, let alone jump up.And when we sit down, we are required to squeeze more tightly, so that we get in each other's way.If we wanted to all jump on the escort team - we could shoot us first while we were moving slowly. Let us sit here to wait for the "crow cart" (it transports people in batches, and it can't be pulled all at once), or to escort them on foot.They tried their best to find a hidden place and arranged for us to sit and wait, so that people outside could not see it.But sometimes it is embarrassing to put us directly on the platform or in the empty field (this is the case in Kuibyshev).This is a test for the free men: we look at them with unashamed eyes, but what should they think of us?With hateful eyes? --conscience forbids (because only Ermilovs believe that people go to prison for "committing crimes").With a sympathetic look?What if someone took your name down?A few years, too; very simple.So our proud free citizens ("Read it, envy me, I'm a citizen of the Soviet Union!") bowed their guilty heads and tried not to look at us at all, as if it were an open space.Old women are braver than others: there's no way to make them bad, they believe in God.They broke off a small baguette and threw it to us.There are also reform-through-labour prisoners (of course not political prisoners) who have been released after serving their sentences, and they are not afraid.The old reform-through-labour prisoners know this saying: "Those who have never been in--will go in, and those who have been in--will not forget." You see, they threw a pack of cigarettes over, so that someone would throw it to them next time they were imprisoned. them.The old woman's hands were weak, and the bread fell when she couldn't reach the place, while the cigarettes circled in the air and flew directly into the crowd.The escort immediately pulled the breech bolt - aimed at the old woman, aimed at the kind heart, aimed at the bread; "Hey, old woman, go away!" The holy, broken bread lay in the dust until we were driven away. Generally speaking, the moments when we sit on the floor of the station are our best moments.I remember in Omsk, we were told to sit on the sleepers between two long freight cars.There are no passers-by in this gap (posts must have been posted at both ends: "Do not pass!" Our citizens are used to obeying men in army coats even when they are free).it's getting dark.It's August.The greasy pebbles in the sun-baked station have not yet cooled, they are baking our asses.We couldn't see the station building, but knew it was not far behind the train.The record player played cheerful music, and the noise of the crowd became one.I don't know why, but I don't feel humiliated sitting on the ground in this remote corner among the unkempt people; I think it is a mockery of us; I imagine that someone is welcoming someone on the platform, someone is seeing someone off, and even holding a bouquet in their hands.It was twenty minutes of freedom: the twilight was getting thicker, the stars in the sky, and the red and green signal lights on the line were all lit up.The music is still playing.Life goes on without us - we don't even bother anymore. Falling in love with moments like this makes prison easier.Otherwise, anger will explode you. If the journey to drive the prisoner to the "crow cart" involves danger, for example, there are streets and pedestrians nearby, then the escort order also stipulates a good password: "Hold your arms!" It is not insulting at all. Meaning - arms!Old man and boy, girl and old woman, healthy and disabled, all linking arms!If you are carrying something in one hand, the person next to you will hold your arm, and you will use your free hand to hold someone else's.Now you are twice as tight as the normal queue.You immediately find it difficult to act.The body loses balance due to the weight of the object and the difficulty in holding it.You all wobble like lame people.You dirty, gray, grotesque creatures, moving forward like a procession of blind men, making feigned tenderness to one another—what a caricature of humanity! Maybe there is no "crow car" ahead at all.Maybe the captain of the escort team is a coward. He is afraid of problems on the road, so he called you like this.You have to lug heavy things, stumble and bump across the entire city, all the way to the prison. There is another password, which is already a caricature of geese: "Grab the heel!" It means that anyone who has empty hands must grasp the place near the ankle bone with both hands.Now - "Let's go!". (Hey, readers, please put down your books and walk around the house!...How? How fast? How much space can you see around? How to escape?) You can imagine thirty or forty of these A scene with geese together? (Kyiv, 1940) It can't always be August; it could be December in 1946.There is no "crow car", and I will escort you to the Petropavlovsk deportation station on foot in the severe cold of minus 40 degrees.It is not difficult to guess that the escort team of the "Zek Carriage" did not let you relieve yourself in the hours before arriving in the city, so as not to dirty the toilet.After the investigation, you are all weak, and you have caught a cold from the cold, and now you can hardly hold your urine at all, especially women.Hmph, what's the matter?A horse needs to stop to relax its urethra, and a dog needs to duck over a fence and cross one leg.You are human beings, you can understand while walking, you are all your own compatriots, what is there to be ashamed of?It will be done at the deportation station....Vera Korneyeva bent down to pick up the shoes, and was a step behind—the escort immediately ordered the wolf-dog to bite her, and the wolf-dog bit into her calf through the winter clothes.Don't lag behind!When an Uzbek fell down, he was hit with the butt of a rifle and kicked with a leather boot. No big deal: these things are not going to be photographed in the DailyExPress (Daily Express).As for the captain of the escort team, he will live to an old age without being judged. The "crow car" is also uploaded from history.How is the prison carriage described by Balzac different from the "crow carriage"?It's just that the pull is slower and the stuffing isn't as tight. True, in the twenties prisoners were still lined up in columns and marched on foot through the city, even through Leningrad.When they passed the intersection, they stopped the traffic. (People on both sides of the road condemned them: "Is this enough stealing?" At that time, no one understood the grand purpose of the sewer...) However, the "Islands", which keeps an eye on new trends in technology, adopted the "Black Crow" without delay - the more affectionate name is "Little Crow" (prison wagon).The first "crow cars" appeared on the still cobbled road at the same time as the first trucks.Their springs are very hard, and they are very bumpy in the car. Fortunately, the prisoners are no longer fragile objects made of crystal.However, as early as 1927, their sealing was perfect: not a single crack was left, and not a single small electric bulb was installed.I can't breathe, and I can't see anything.The bucket of the cart was always full at that time, so we could only stand close to each other.It's not deliberately arranged to be so crowded, it's entirely because there are not enough vehicles. For many years, the exterior of the "Crow Car" has been painted iron gray, which can be said to expose the characteristics of the prison to the outside.But after the war, the capitals of our country suddenly felt that this was not quite right, and decided to paint the shell in cheerful colors and write "bread" (the prisoners were originally bread for the construction site to digest), "meat" (it should be more accurate). "Bones"), etc., or "Soviet champagne, please!" The interior of the "crow car" may be a simple steel car body-an empty pen with four walls, or there may be benches on all sides, but this thing is by no means for your comfort, but the opposite; The number of people crammed will never be less than half the number of people that can be accommodated in the body of the whole standing body, but in this type of body, people can only be piled up like luggage and sacks. The rear of the "crow car" may also have a single room - a narrow steel box that can only accommodate one person.There are also single rooms where the entire body of the car is divided; there are two rows of single boxes on the left and right, which are locked like prison cells, and there is an aisle in the middle for the guards. Looking at the grinning girl holding a goblet outside: "Please drink Soviet champagne!", you can never imagine that there is such a complicated set of honeycomb devices inside. When driving the prisoner into the "crow cart", the escort members standing in a circle kept yelling: "Hey, hey, hurry up! Come on!" The purpose is not to give you time to look around and think about escaping.They pushed and shoved you into the car, so that you got stuck in the narrow door with your luggage, and your head hit the door lintel.The rear steel doors latched with difficulty -- drive! Of course, it is rare to ride for several hours in a "crow car", often only twenty or thirty minutes.But half an hour can shake you to pieces, break your bones, crush your body.If you are tall, you have to keep your head down—probably you must be thinking about the comfortable "Zek Carriage". "The Crow Car" also means a reshuffle - a new encounter, the most vivid of which is of course the encounter with the thief.Maybe you have never had the fate to share a private room with them, maybe you will not be put in the same cell even in the deportation station in the future, but right now you are at their mercy. Sometimes it's so crowded that even thieves can't handle it.Your legs and arms are pinched against the quilted armor of other people's bodies and rucksacks, as if you were wearing a yoke.Only when the car passes through the potholes and shakes everyone up, as if the internal organs are about to be thrown out, can your limbs change positions. Sometimes looser.In half an hour the thieves were able to go through the contents of everyone's bags and take back both the "bad" (good food) and the decent "rags" (clothes).Mainly your cowardly and time-conscious considerations (you still think that the main enemy and the main cause are somewhere ahead, so you have to save your body for it, and you start to lose bit by bit. own immortal soul) prevents you from fighting them.If you fight them with your fists, you're sure to get a few cuts between the ribs. (There will be no investigation, and even if they investigate, they will not suffer: at most, let him stop temporarily in the deportation station and stop sending him to a remote labor camp. You will also agree: the relationship between socially close elements and social aliens If there is a fight between them, the state cannot take the side of the latter.) Retired Colonel Lu Nin, an official of the National Defense Aviation Chemical Construction Support Association, said something in Butyrka's cell in 1946: On March 8, on the way to Taganka Prison from Moscow City Court, a group of A burglar gang-rapes a girl who is about to get married in front of him in the "crow car" (the rest of the car is silent about the incident and stands by).The girl had come to the courthouse that morning by herself, a free person, and deliberately dressed up (she was tried for desertion, which was actually an act of revenge by her superiors for her refusal to live with him. fabricated charges). Half an hour before the "crow car" started, the girl was sentenced to five years in accordance with the relevant laws.She was wheeled into the "crow cart" of the factory, whereupon, in broad daylight, around the time of the garden ring ("Soviet champagne, please"), she was turned into a camp prostitute.How should I say it?Just the work of thieves?Not a jailer?Isn't that her boss? There is also the tenderness of thieves: the girl was raped and ransacked.They stripped off the beautiful leather shoes and blouse she was wearing today to impress the judges, and gave them to the escort.The escort pulled over and went down and bought eutecas to take back to the car, so the thieves had another drink with the girl's money. Entering Taganka Prison, the girl complained to the authorities in tears.The officer yawned and said: "The state cannot provide individual transportation for each of you. We are not equipped for that." Yes, the "crow car" is indeed the "bottleneck" of the "islands".If it is said that the "Zeke carriage" does not have the conditions to separate political prisoners from criminal prisoners, then it is even more impossible to separate male prisoners from female prisoners in the "Crow carriage".And how could the thieves be expected to live a "full life" without taking advantage of the gap between the two prisons? If there are no thieves, then we should thank "Crow Car" for giving us the brief opportunity to meet the women.In prison life, where else can they be seen, heard and touched except here? Once in 1950 it transported us from Butirka to the railway station.Sitting very relaxed, a "crow car" with a bench can only hold fourteen people in total.After everyone was seated, a woman was suddenly pushed forward.She sat down next to the car door.At first she was very scared, because she was sitting in a black box with fourteen men, and she had no protection here.But after saying a few words, she understood that this place is all her own people, and all of them are under the fifty-eight rules. She gave her name: Repina, the colonel's wife.She was arrested after her husband.Suddenly a taciturn soldier, who from his age and small appearance looked like a lieutenant at best, asked her: "Please tell me, have you ever been in prison with Antonina Ivanovna?" "Why, you Her lover Oleg?" "Yes." "Lieutenant Colonel Ivanov? Frunze Military Academy?" "Yes." 这一声"是"里面包含了怎样的感受啊！它发自哽噎的喉头，它流露的更多是对音讯的恐惧而不是快乐。他移过去坐在她的身边。夏日的模糊暗淡的光斑透过两扇后车门上的两个窄小的栅孔射进车斗，随着汽车的行进在车内闪动，在这个妇女和中校的脸上闪动。"侦查期间的四个月我同她蹲在一个监室里。""现在她在哪儿？""那时候她一心惦记着您！她对自己的案子一点也不在乎，只是为您担心。起先怕您也被他们抓进来。后来盼望您能得到比较轻的判决。""她现在怎么样了？""她怨恨自己连累了您。她太难过了。""现在她在哪儿？""您千万别害怕，"列宾娜已经像对待亲人一样用手贴在他胸前，"她经不起这样的紧张。他们把她送到别处去了。她有点……您明白了吗？精神失常……" 在六条行车线的大马路上，一团用钢板紧紧包裹着的小小的风暴如此平静地向前行驶着。它遇到红灯就停下来，要拐弯的时候就给信号…… 我和这位奥列格?伊万诺夫是刚刚在布蒂尔卡相识的。经过是这样：他们把我们关进了监狱交接处的隔离室，正在把我们的东西从保管室里取到这里来。他和我同时被叫到隔离室的门口去。在开着的门外的走廊里，可以看见一个身穿灰大褂的女看守员在翻他箱子里的东西。一块不知道怎么保存下来的金黄色的中校肩章被抖落在地上。她自己也没有在意地一脚踩在那上面的两颗大金星上。 她用皮鞋践踏着它，好像专门为了拍摄特写镜头。 我指给他看："请注意，中校同志！" 伊万诺夫的脸色阴沉下来。要知道，他当时还保留着"公安机关是清白无瑕的"这个观念。 现在又听到了关于妻子的事情。 这些都是需要他在一个小时之内装进脑子里去的！