Читать книгу The Most Russian Person - Vladimir Shatakishvili - Страница 17

Joint, long-awaited, won with blood, by sleepless nights, deaths of young and elderly Soviet soldiers, tears of widows and mothers, work in the rear.

Victory is a collective joy, a joint big and holy holiday.

And here is an insult. The insult is not a problem, but it scratches the soul. After the war the new head of the regional department of the Ministry of Internal Affairs arrived in Stavropol. The new broom, as it is known, sweeps clean… They dismissed Ivan Nikiforovich proposing to be the head of the fleet in Astrahan. He chose to stay, only as the head of the production workshops of the MGB and transport, on, so to speak, light duties.

1948 changed his fate. Ivan Nikiforovich was called to Moscow, to one of the ministries, to be transfered to another job.

“Where?”

“Destination – Sverdlovsk.”

Such was the response of the KGB chief of staff.

“I give you first-class coach ticket, they will meet you with impatience.”

“Who will be waiting?” Medyanik could not understand.

“Lieutenant-General Ivan Maksimovich Tkachenko.”

His heart was filled with warmth, the soul calmed down. He knew Ivan Maksimovich during wartime in the Caucasus. He was then in the rank of a colonel. And he held the post of representative of the Southern Group of Forces under the Reserve of the Main Command. It was under his leadership that the German agents were liquidated. And just in the first-class coach of the train going to the Urals Medyanik remembered the time that had tied his fate with the fate of Tkachenko.

While in Ordzhonikidze, Ivan Nikiforovich was ordered to deliver a group of a small detachment under Malgobek where German saboteurs savaged.

Then two Ivans, two warriors, two brave and courageous men, who did not fear the evil enemy, got together. When the German paratroopers were surrounded, Medyanik and Tkachenko walked alongside. They climbed a hillock, already naked in autumn, to look around and right there came the cracking of German machine guns. Without hesitation Ivan Nikiforovich fell to the ground and carried Tkachenko with him. And then, raising their heads, they saw there were new bursts from the next machine-gun fire at the place where they had just been standing.

Fractions of a second separated them from inevitable death.

These fractions of a second had bound forever their friendship born under deadly fire. Ivan Maksimovich never forgot that it was Medyanik who had saved his life.

And now they met again where the atomic saga in the life of Ivan Nikiforovich Medyanik began: the Kyshtym station, the secret “Mayak”, Chelyabinsk-40, Chelyabinsk-70, a deadly raid with Plutonium obtained in Dollezhal's laboratory, Semipalatinsk, terrible pictures of destruction as the result of the test of the first Soviet atomic bomb…

At that time, no one really knew the consequences of radiation, except, naturally, of scientists involved in this problem.

Did people die? Died. The way Igor Vasilyevich Kurchatov perished, the way Ivan Maksimovich Tkachenko, a remarkable friend of Medyanik, also perished in 1953. The way Academician Alikhanov died, buried at the Novodevichy cemetery next to the brilliant physicist Landau, whose life was interrupted by a car accident…

“But Khariton, Zeldovich, Alexandrov, Slavsky, and some more, have lived for much more than ninety years. I myself is over a century. Dollezhal lived over a century. As for me, the doctors are still wondering how I managed to live and work with such doses of radiation. This means that not all the resources of the human body are yet known and each one has its own life expectancy code…”

“So this is the fate…”

“The fate either leads or not. It’s as if someone from above watches you.”

Seven years from 1948 to 1955 were spent by Ivan Nikiforovich at “Mayk”. His service was acknowledged as excellent. The department he headed did not have a single major accident, not a single case of death.

By the closed Decree of the Supreme Soviet of the USSR, the head of the transport fleet of the “Mayak” plant, I. N. Medyanik was awarded the Order of the Red Banner of Labor.

Life is full of changes. They touched my hero, too.

After the birth of his daughter Lida, his wife's health was shaken. Lyubov began to feel worse, and the doctors again recommended the southern territories, especially Mineralnye Vody, where they successfully treated heart diseases.

There was no choice. He had to leave the Urals and move to Mineralnye Vody. To his good fortune they needed a car fleet manager in Lermontov, a new miners' town under construction, marked as “mailbox No. 1”.