Boris Mirkin, 1937-2019

boris merkinBoris Mirkin, 1937–2019. Photo courtesy of Iofe Foundation

Boris Savelyevich Mirkin, poet, political prisoner, board member of the St. Petersburg Memorial Society, and our comrade, died on April 1, 2019.

Boris Savelyevich was born in Leningrad in 1937. During the Siege, he was evacuated from the city. He graduated from the Leningrad Chemical and Pharmaceutical Institute in 1964 and went to work at Research Laboratory No. 1 of the Military Medical Academy. After Soviet troops invaded Afghanistan, Boris Savelyevich wrote poems condemning the invasion. He was arrested in 1981 and charged with violating Article 70 Part 1 of the RSFSR Criminal Code [“anti-Soviet agitation”]. The Leningrad City Court convicted him, sentencing him to three years and six months of forced labor. He served his time in the camps of Perm Region. After his release, Boris Savelyevich worked as a lathe operator at the Krasny Vyborzhets factory in Leningrad, a trade he had picked up in the camps. In 2004, he wrote and published a book of memoirs and poems entitled I Face the Music (Derzhu otvet...).

The book included this poem, which he wrote in a labor camp in Perm Region in 1982.

Since childhood I hated lies.
They sickened my soul.
Truth alone is light and power,
Piercing the heart like a knife.
Those who lied from podiums
And pulpits, who regaled
The baron’s hollow tales
As truth, I found odious.

Who sent us far not knowing why,
Who knew only head-on attacks,
So no one got off with a scratch,
Who marched us to heaven not knowing the way.

Alas, to this day the liars thrive,
Ignoring the truth for falsehoods.
Oh, the world is filled with mugs,
The smug faces of those who worship lies.

People are invited to pay their last respects to Boris Savelyevich Mirkin from ten to eleven in the morning on April 5 at the morgue of the Elizabeth Hospital, 14 Academician Baykov Street.

Source: Iofe Foundation Newsletter, April 4, 2019. Translated by the Russian Reader

Mikhail Kozhukhov: A New Year’s Story

15724849_1141165272619475_6061432354330393817_o
Mikhail Kozhukhov and Valery “Cap” Vostrotin

Mikhail Kozhukov
Facebook
December 25, 2016

A New Year’s Story

The previous text set off a storm of emotions. I was told I should clear out of “our” country, accused of insanity, named every name in the book, given advice (I really love that), and chided, of course, for my “Afghan” past. Since that’s how it’s going to be, here’s a New Year’s story for you on the topic.

I rang in 1989 at the 345th Guards Airborne Regiment, one of the toughest in Afghanistan. Its battalions were constantly sent into combat, and it was the rare operation in which they were not involved. They would return to base flying the regimental flag. That was not in the regulations. The regimental commander, Valery Vostrotin or, “Cap,” as they called him, thought that up. After his first wound in the literal sense, the surgeons sewed him up like an old sock, and he came back “over the river”for a second tour of duty, this time sporting a Hero of the Soviet Union Star. The soldiers adored Cap. His photo, clipped from newspapers, hung over many a man’s cot in the barracks. I had never seen anything like it.

We became friends in Khost, during the same operation [Magistral] on which the plot of the film The 9th Company is based. The 9th Company is part of the 345th Regiment, after all. Valera had commanded it himself once upon a time. Under his command, the 9th had been involved in storming Hafizullah Amin’s palace.

I cannot convey what the New Year’s celebration was like. The airborne troops pummeled the sky with everything that could and could not shoot. The commander made the rounds of all the battalions. As his guest, I tailed him, and then we stayed up and talked all night. It was then that he autographed this playing card “in pledge of [a] long friendship.”

15726417_1141168625952473_4378077886890867005_n

When we said goodbye the next day, I recited him Igor Morozov’s lyrics to the song “We’re Going,” which was gaining popularity but had not made it yet to Bagram Airfield: “From once-conquered heavenly peaks we descend charred steps to earth.” There is a line in that song: “And we haven’t finished our business yet, but we’re going, going, going.”

Vostrotin listened and paused before saying bitterly, “We never had any ‘business’ in Afghanistan.”

By the way, it was Vostrotin who did not storm the Russian White House in 1991. He flew the Volgrad Division, which he was then commanding, to Kubinka Air Base, but when they had traveled as far as the Moscow Ring Road, he stopped, and did not advance any farther.

We had no “business” in Afghanistan. And we don’t have any in Syria.

* “Amongst the people killed on board the plane that crashed were Anton Gubankov, the Defense Ministry’s ‘minister of culture’ and his staff member Oksana Badrutdinova. Really good people… The plane, the ambassador, and dozens of servicemen. And there will be more. We have no business in Syria.”

Mikhail Kozhukhov is a well-known Soviet and Russian journalist and television presenter. In 1999–2000, he served as Vladimir Putin’s press secretary. Translated by the Russian Reader