Читать книгу The Most Russian Person - Vladimir Shatakishvili - Страница 6

WHEN Ivan Nikiforovich goes through the memory of past days and years, it takes me aback. Top secret ideas, classified towns, objects, names in his stories acquire the coloring of such frank commonness, the taste of the ordinary servitude that at the beginning of our acquaintance (I confess!), somewhere deep down doubt arises if it was in reality. Has his memory changed? Isn’t there a natural desire to attach your name to the significant and fateful events of the Fatherland? After all, human vanity is a mysterious and incomprehensible category.

No, no and no! His memory didn’t betray him, he was, in fact, a witness and direct participant of those bygone events. And he does not boast, does not expect the thunder of copper pipes of glory – this tall, grayhaired man with a piercing glance of intelligent eyes and a faint grin, that seems to forgive my disbelief, speaks calmly and confidently.

Yes, he is not a nuclear physicist, not a professor, not a doctor of science. He did not take part in “capturing” the evasive neutrino, did not invent the electron brain, did not split the atom, did not “weigh” the star from Andromeda or Cassiopea's, did not beat his head against the wall seeking the right solution in clever projects.

He introduced himself as an experienced motorist, builder, transport worker. He has got a lot more professions that he had mastered, complying to the most severe life circumstances. Later I will tell about it, too.

Now, at ninety-five, he continues to drive. He himself drives. The driver's license of the new sample is valid until 2009. The traffic police GAI (I use the old, familiar to the ear abbreviation of the team of law enforcement officers) do not stop him to verify the identification or for violation of the medical, precisely, age restrictions. Yes, they know, they know our grand-dad, they know Ivan Nikiforovich in Stavropol region, and Mineralnye Vody, in Moscow, in the Urals, he is remembered in all classified “Chelyabinsk” ones, and on the once super classified “Mayak”.

He is neither a professor, nor a doctor of science, nor an academician. But he has the title “Veteran of Nuclear Energy and Industry”. And he is proud of it by right. He was directly involved in the preparation of the testing of the first Soviet atomic bomb which our brilliant nuclear scientists, the finest scientific minds in the world, created “to fear the enemies and world imperialism”.

The first received radioactive plutonium – this monstrous deadly “stuffing” for the first Soviet atomic bomb – was delivered to its destination in February 1949 by Ivan Nikiforovich Medyanik. It was dangerous. It was extremely dangerous! Both for the driver himself, and for his obligatory escort from the department of Lavrentiy Beria – colonel N. M. Ryzhov, and for classified cities, not-marked on any map, in which the bomb was grown from the idea to the real incarnation. Dangerous eventually for hundreds of thousands of people, for the earth, and the sky, and for the whole of Urals with its innumerable natural resources.

Winter, frozen roads, hard and remote, where every unexpected bump could turn a disaster – everything is remembered by Ivan Nikiforovich as if he had just brushed off cold sweat from the forehead from tension, natural excitement, and involuntary fear for a possible unforeseen error.

The car with a deadly cargo was sent in its dangerous trip by a well-known physicist Yuliy Borisovich Khariton, having “blessed” it in his “scientist way”.

Igor Vasilyevich Kurchatov met it at the destination point, openly pleased. He shook Ivan Nikiforovich Medyanik's hand “like a nuclear scientist to a nuclear scientist” and smiled slyly.

Everything worked out. Plutonium, without which the bomb was just an empty shell, was delivered to the laboratory. The last months came before the test. The rest, just lazy or too young, do not know: On August 29, 1949, the first Soviet atomic bomb was tested at a nuclear test site near Semipalatinsk.

The USSR nuclear shield – as opposed to the United States – declared itself in full voice!

“And do you yourself, Ivan Nikiforovich, remember those famous scientists with whom you had to communicate or at least see on the famous “Mayak” (Chelyabinsk-40)?”

“Will you give me a piece of paper,” Ivan Nikiforovich gets excited, “I will write the names of those you probably have no idea about, no offense.”

And he took the pen.

I here give names and surnames written by Ivan Nikiforovich. This is an incomplete list of people, involved in the production of the atomic bomb at “Mayak”:

I. V. Kurchatov

A. N. Nesmeyanov

L. P. Beria

L. D. Landau

Y. B. Khariton

P. L. Kapitsa

B. L. Vannikov

I. E. Tamm

A. P. Alexandrov

L. V. Kantorovich

A. D. Sakharov

A. M. Prokhorov

S. P. Korolev

N. G. Basov

B. G. Muzrukov

A. F. Joffe

A. I. Alikhanov

M. G. Pervukhin

A. S. Nikiforov

P. A. Cherenkov

N. I. Bochvar

V. G. Khlopin

N. A. Dollezhal

V. S. Emelyanov

I. M. Frank

A. I. Alikhanyan

N. N. Semyonov

S. L. Sobolev

V. I. Alferov

I. F. Tevosyan

M. M. Tsarevsky

I. E. Starik

V. S. Fursov

I. I. Gurevich

M. V. Keldysh

I. Y. Pomeranchuk

D. F. Ustinov

N. L. Dukhov

A. P. Zavenyagin

E. I. Zababakhin

G. N. Flerov

K. I. Shchelkin

I. K. Kikoin

V. I. Vexler

V. A. Malyshev

A. K. Kruglov

E. P. Slavsky

N. V. Melnikov

Y. B. Zeldovich

A. P. Vinogradov

“Here you go! And this, of course, is not all. The list can be continued. But you, Volodya, aren’t going to compile a personalized encyclopedia of nuclear scientists?” Ivan Nikiforovich smiled. “The first one I put is Igor Vasilyevich Kurchatov. He was the chief scientific officer of the atomic project. Unusual man. The fire. Himself like a nuclear reactor. No wonder his nickname was “atomic boiler” – for the incredible efficiency. The man was just boiling! Everyone loved him. Respected by men, loved by women. They gave a gently nickname – Prince Igor, and his subordinates addressed in their own way – Beard. He wore a special beard, of unusual shape, cut off at the end “under the line”, with a gray at the chin. The forehead is tall and strong, and eyes sparkle cheerfully. Cheerful when not busy. Well, what about the “man”… I got excited. Although I said in a good way. On the contrary, he was a nobleman,” Ivan Nikiforovich laughs. “And, in general, a real man! Russian hero. It’s a pity he passed away early, well, what is this age – 57? He did not live up only a year before the flight of Gagarin, died in 1960 in February after the second stroke.”

“I know that you and Kurchatov often met and talked. How was it?”

“I remember the first meeting. I took up my duties at the very beginning of 1948. Somewhere in March Kurchatov appeared at the construction site. He was informed about a new head of the motor vehicle fleet at the plant. Besides, one of the drivers (there were several of them) spoke well of the “new broomstick”. They say I began to put things in order from the very first day. The academician conveyed through the head of the personal security Vasiliy Vasilyevich Kulikov for me to show up. I came at the appointed time and was immediately received. A young, tall, handsome man, he impressed me. As it should be in such cases, I wanted to introduce myself, tell about myself, but Kurchatov decidedly stopped me, “I know everything about you. I had a meeting with the secretary of the Central Committee of the CPSU, Mikhail Andreevich Suslov. He said that he had sent me two reliable guys he as a member of the Military Council of the North Caucasus had known since the war and vouched for them. He said about Trovchenko, the representative of the Council of the Ministers, and you, Ivan Nikiforovich. Suslov also added that they are military people, they will bring order.” Of course, I was flattered that I was presented to the world-famous scientist on the positive side and really wanted to justify his trust. Then we switched to urgent matters. A serious and important conversation took place. The main production – the creation of a bomb – consumed all the finances, and we understood that. But the transport was desperately needed, as well as good reliable roads. It’s a shame – impassable mud, even in sunny weather, not to mention especially in rain or sleet.

After all, when a new home is being built, and even more a city, they can’t avoid the thing that the earth resists, soaks to a slurry, sticks to shoes, clothes. To go two or three times, you spend a lot of time for washing shoes. And Igor Vasilyevich, despite being the “master” and “Prince Igor”, loved to go in the galoshes (rubbers). It was comfortable and the shoes were clean! Looking at him, soon everyone in “Mayak” put on galoshes. But it was not an option. I said that in Germany, before construction, they, first of all, build roads, asphalt them so that building materials could arrive on time, the garbage is taken out, and people are comfortable. This is a standard of work! And are we worse? Though the year we talked about was hard – the 48th, we didn’t still recover from the war, and the anger against the Germans was still hot – they were enemies after all. But I believe that it is possible to learn reasonable economic management from the enemy.

Igor Vasilyevich looked at me sharply (with understanding, it means) and asked for some patience. He said he knew how important transport was in our business. “In every sense, you are our “ambulance”. We are sure to help, I promise,” he said and kept his word. He always said simply, with jokes, which, of course, were relevant. He was always the center of attention. When we went fishing, he was busy with our kids and also with jokes. Through a joke, the boys were crammed with serious things about science, serious study, for example. That way he made his son Zhenka fall in love with these same sciences, so that when he grew up, he became submarine designer. He is now seventy-two years old, Honored Submariner of Russia, lives in Severodvinsk. Here is what else Igor Vasilyevich asked me about during that first meeting: “You, Ivan Nikiforovich, should be as military strict with subordinates. People from all over the country will soon come here, you need to continuously deliver them to the plant – from Sverdlovsk, Chelyabinsk. In addition, a huge amount of cargo will also go and they should not suffer. This is a responsible matter, but I hope you can handle it.”

“Sure I will cope, Igor Vasilyevich!”

Academician rose from the table, came close and firmly shook my hand. Our eyes met, he carefully began to examine me, from close range. We turned out to be the same height and it is when I was almost two meters tall! On “Mayak” people of this height are rare.

“And now about the main thing. All the country's science, famous academics, started moving to us. They need to be placed in three cottages specially built for them,” Kurchatov paused. “But remember that the academicians are the same children, they wear hats in summer and winter. Please meet each in person, do not reassign to anyone. And change hats to caps!”

From this day on, I met and placed “domestic science” personally. People were different: more silent, thoughtful, and there were capricious, and such as Yuliy Borisovich Khariton – cheerful, good-humoured. I went hunting and fishing with them. I got the most important thing: every academician was a secret person, the country would learn many of their names later after their discoveries, and in the case of Sergey Pavlovich Korolev only after his death.

For especially important guests I warmed two cars in stock. I made out sheepskin coats, felt boots, fur hats and, whatever happens, a few bottles of Armenian brandy.

Such a case soon came up. Boris Glebovich Muzrukov, director of the plant, calls me and says, “There hasn’t been any news from the people meeting Korolev for a long time. You are at control”. It was almost the only time when someone else instead of me went to meet, and no one knew who Korolev was. I called the driver of one of the already equipped cars, and we rushed. Somewhere after ten kilometers we saw a car that had slid to the side of the road. The driver was busy under the hood, and two passengers and a welcomer were standing nearby. In order not to waste time, I gave the command to the drivers to take the stalled car in tow, and made the guests put on sheepskin coats, hats and boots, practically making them change clothes in the cold. Then I poured cognac into glasses, offered cheese, sausages, something else and soon brought the latecomers to the place. I ran to Muzrukov, reported that everything was in order (it was night, and our cottages were nearby), but he laughed, “Korolev has already called, said that some huge “chief”, as the chauffeurs call him, arrived and forced him change clothes and even made him drink brandy.” After that, I met Sergey Pavlovich more than once. He was a charming and modest person. Although neither a hunter nor a fisherman, he never refused to go to the country.”

“Ivan Nikiforovich! My interview with you has stretched out for long four years. An entire story was written, handed over to the editor, and on January 12, 2007, there came the centenary of Sergey Pavlovich Korolev. Let's go back and talk about what you have remembered from your meetings with him.”

“There were several such meetings. Where do we start?”

“Tell everything that you remember, and then put the episodes in chronological order.”

“To begin with, over the years of my work at “Mayak”, I met Sergey Pavlovich every time, except for the episode already described. His arrivals were associated with the development and supply of fuel for future space missions. Train sets of tanks went constantly from us to Baikonur. He made closest friendly relations, I would even say, with Slavsky, Muzrukov, Kurchatov.”

“Did close communication with him happen after your eight-year work at “Mayak”?”

“Yes, the first such meeting took place in 1957. By that time I had moved to Mineralnye Vody and worked in Lermontov as the head of the motor transport at a classified unit. Once in the director’s receiption I was informed that they had called from Kislovodsk and asked to get in touch. It turned out that on Korolev’s instructions, his assistant was looking for me and sent me an invitation to come to Ordzhonikidze Sanatorium. After work I started my new Volga and headed for Kislovodsk. The meeting turned out to be warm and friendly. While walking in the park for a couple of hours, we remembered mutual friends, acquaintances, some episodes from our life in the Urals. We planned a trip to Elbrus region. Vladimir Semyonovich Khomutov, chief medical officer, was the initiator of it. I took over the organization of shashlyk, pickled meat and picked up a set of stainless steel skewers brought from the Urals. All other problems were laid on the management of the sanatorium. The next morning we met on the highway Pyatigorsk – Nalchik, and three cars drove into the mountains. Elbrus region today still remains one of the largest centers of mountaineering and skiing in the country.

In Baksan, we were joined by an old friend of mine, the chairman of the village council, Azret Shokovich Bifov, with his sons Zhamal and Hassan. I contacted them late in the evening and invited to take part in the event. Somewhere a year before this episode, we rested in Elbrus region with families, and for my part it would be an unforgivable mistake not to invite these noble people to a decent men company, knowing how much honour and respect among the countrymen Azret Shokovich enjoys.

We got there two hours later. I don’t remember exactly what that place was, it seems, a recreation center for management, as there was security and staff. Representatives of the regional party committee of Kabardino-Balkaria, who met us, suggested a walk to the mountains. My legs ached then, and I had to give up climbing. Together with the chef of the sanatorium and the Baksan friends I took up cooking dinner. Kabardians brought with them a fat-tailed ram, dressed it and everything turned out at the highest level. Skewers of lamb and pork, shulum, skilfully cooked lamb entrails, greenery, vegetables, fruits, various slices of sturgeon and salmon fish and meat and sausage products. Guests came back from the walk about three hours later, pleased and full of enthusiastic impressions. We had already prepared a sumptuous dinner by that time, all the more so that everyone was pretty hungry. Sergey Pavlovich, impressed by the beauty of the nature of the Caucasus, was pleased and even made a toast and despite the sanatorium regime, took two or three shots of brandy.

We came back home late at night.

The second meeting with Korolev occurred in 1961. On a call from the USSR Ministry of Medium Machine Building, I once again had to visit the capital. By the way, I don’t know how it was in other ministries, but in those years our employees were summoned to Moscow and not sent on business trips by their enterprises. On arriving, I directly went to the reception office of Efim Pavlovich Slavsky, our long-term minister (from 1957 to 1986), who had served at his post until the age of 88. The receptionist knew me and both his secretaries usually tried to help get to the boss without delay, but this time they asked to wait. Just in case I asked, “Who is there with him?” It turned out that it was Korolev, and then, having rejoiced, I said that I had known him well for a long time. My arrival was reported. And I immediately entered into the minister’s cabinet, which I had known for a long time, and embraced him and Sergey Pavlovich. Slavsky says to me, “It is very good that you have arrived today. By four o'clock in the evening be with me. In the meantime, take a break from the road, or do something.”

There was always enough work in the ministry. I went around the offices I had planned, settled in a hotel, and at the appointed time appeared before Slavsky. Together, in the Minister’s “Chaika”, we went to the restaurant of the Moscow Hotel. We were met at the service entrance and taken to the luxurious banquet hall, where about twelve people had already gathered, all close to Korolev. It turned out that the event was dedicated to giving Sergey Pavlovich the second Golden Star of the Hero of Socialist Labor. I was introduced to the guests as a colleague of Efim Pavlovich for work in Chelyabinsk-40 and who had worked for many years alongside Igor Vasilyevich Kurchatov. I don’t remember who those people were, but there were the Stars of Heroes on the jackets of many of them, and Slavsky at that moment had two. The evening was solemn, everyone wished the general designer further space victories. Surprisingly, they drank little, basically brandy. Probably because many were already at a respectable age. When the word was given to me, I wished success to the hero of the occasion and expressed hope for future meetings, but this time at the resorts of the Caucasian Mineral Waters, where almost everyone went to restore health. Sergey Pavlovich could not resist talking about our first meeting, about the huge “chief” who made him put on a sheepskin coat, felt boots, drink a glass of brandy in the cold and safely delivered to his destination. We parted somewhere by midnight.

Then there was another, third, meeting with Korolev in Sochi. In autumn of 1963 the velvet season settled on the Black Sea coast. The new triumph of the Soviet cosmonautics! The flight was carried out by the first woman cosmonaut in the world – Valentina Tereshkova. That year I received a personal voucher to the Sochi sanatorium “Zvezdochka”. Holders of such vouchers were settled in luxury rooms or in separate cottages. I got a cottage for two rooms. In the other half Nikolay Konstantinovich Baibakov, who for nearly thirty years headed the USSR State Planning Committee, was having resting with his family. In terms of age, he is older than me by a year, and, as far as I know, he is the only living Commissar of today (the Minister) of the Stalin call. Seems that he had headed the People's Commissariat of the oil industry since 1943. We talked much and learned about each other a lot of interesting things in twenty-four days of rest. Having came back from the beach one day, I found a note on my desk saying the chief medical officer of the sanatorium invited me to his place. It turned out that a meeting with cosmonauts was scheduled for this time. The neighbor also received an invitation, and together we went. Indeed, cosmonauts Andriyan Nikolaev and Pavel Popovich arrived, and about thirty minutes later Sergey Pavlovich Korolev arrived with a retinue of five people. He was having rest at the government dacha. We had interesting time: all the attention in those years was riveted on the heroes of space, they were celestials.”

“Well, did you manage to talk to Korolev in presence of so many people?”

“Of course. We embraced, shook hands friendly and during the toast he again recalled the episode of our first acquaintance, thanked for the considerate attitude and even jokingly said that I was his bodyguard during the visits to the Urals.”

“And what were the drinks?”

“There was everything on the table: Armenian brandy, Georgian wine, Russian vodka, champagne. This time I drank wine, Sergey Pavlovich only brandy and as always drank a little, my neighbor Baibakov – vodka. Korolev's friendly attitude, his story about the “exploits” on “Mayak” immediately won Nikolay Konstantinovich’s favour. After this meeting and before the end of the holiday, we began to communicate more and almost made friends, exchanged phone numbers, although we never saw each other again.”

“You know, Ivan Nikiforovich, what is the most amazing thing about your story? Of the listed characters ofthat memorable meeting, only Baibakov and Medyanik are still alive. On March 5, 2006, in the Column Hall of the House of the Unions, ninety-fifth anniversary of Nilolay Konstantinovich was solemnly celebrated. Speakers noted the outstanding achievements of our countryman. There were many honored guests from among the former secretaries of the Central Committee, union and republican ministers, representatives of CIS. Among those present and speaking there were congratulations from N. I. Ryzhkov, G. A. Zyuganov, Y. M. Luzhkov, Y. P. Ryabov, N. I. Maslennikov, Y. P. Batalin, E. S. Korshunov. Each guest was presented with souvenirs and a book “Baibakov from Stalin to Yeltsin”.

And on June 2, 2007, Medyanik turned 95 years old. Hometown congratulated him adequately on this day.”

“There has something gone absurdly wrong with the academics,” recalls Ivan Nikiforovich.” Most of them worked on a permanent basis in Dubna, Arzamas-16, KB-2, KB-3. They came to “Mayak” mainly to test their own inventions. Sometimes it happened that, where he had invented or discovered something had to be put into production, and then there were problems that affected the time of creation of the bomb. Time was running out, no failures were allowed. And then, according to Stalin’s personal instructions, all key scientists, project participants, were transported to our place for the completion of the installation and the commissioning of the main production facilities. So those three special two-story cottages were filled with renowned residents. Complete secrecy was observed. Only a few people knew who came or was leaving: the director of the plant, his deputy on security, representative from the Council of Ministers, I and maybe one or two people more. It was damn nice when at a solemn banquet in honor of the twentieth anniversary of the first testing, one of the academicians stood up and offered a toast, “To the “chief” who met and saw us off and wrapped in warm sheepskin coats!”

They made me stand up, and the whole hall, two or three hundred, men applauded.

There is one more thing to add. Most of the academicians – physicists, chemists, mathematicians – at the time of their work in the project to create the atomic bomb were classified. It was only after a successful test, on August 29, 1949, the party and the government appreciated their achievements and showered orders, medals, the Stars of Heroes, Stalin, Lenin, State and even Nobel prizes. If my memory doesn’t fail me, three times Heroes among those who were related to the bomb, were eleven people.”

“Ivan Nikiforovich, maybe I will surprise you now. We talked a lot about the great Kurchatov, but did you know that once he saved me from major troubles?”

“And when was it?”

“In the early eighties.”

“Well, you, brother, and exaggerate! Igor Vasilyevich passed away in 1960, toy were only eight then.”

“And, nevertheless, it is.”

I will cite for readers an excerpt from my first book, “The Casket of Colourful Contemporaries.”