Mikhail Lantsov

DEATH TO BRITAIN! “THE KING GAVE US AN ORDER”

Dear readers, you are holding in your hands the sixth - final volume of the novel with the working title “Alexander”, which tells about the adventures of our contemporary in not very distant antiquity (in the 19th century).

Who is he, our hero? An orphan who lost all his family in childhood and grew up in an orphanage. Senior warrant officer of the Airborne Forces. Order bearer. A veteran of the first Chechen war, demobilized due to injury, having lost both feet on a mine... A simple and harsh fate. She broke many, depriving them of self-confidence and prospects in life. But Alexander not only did not give up after becoming a cripple in civilian life, but on the contrary, he was able to achieve considerable success in the crucible of the “nineties” and “zeros”. His business, which still did not survive several showdowns with bandits, left behind quite a decent amount of money. And his perseverance, intelligence and hard work gave him two higher education(world economy and domestic history) and a huge horizon, including on issues that were not directly related to his work. He also developed curiosity, a critical mind and flexibility of thinking, since the tasks he faced were not simple. All this is not so little. At least, few of our contemporaries can boast of such a “bouquet”.

However, main feature His character and consciousness consisted of a mental organization unusual for his peers. The fact is that Alexander did not take from his childhood that beautiful-hearted humanism, philanthropy and indifferent indecision that bloomed magnificently in the souls of many people of the late Soviet era, due to some monstrous misunderstanding being considered indispensable character traits of any well-educated and cultured person. Our hero turned out to be surprisingly indiscriminate in methods and means, and he was not accustomed to feeling compassion either for himself or for other people. Because of this, he often looked like a stubborn and weak-sighted rhinoceros, who gloomily and inexorably walked towards his intended goal. Which? Strange, scary and inexplicably attractive... one that has visited each of us more than once. After all, you must agree that the soul of many is warmed with eternal fire by the idea of ​​achieving, even if not in our world, somewhere in another assembly of space and time, the transformation of his homeland into something immeasurably great. In addition, Alexander’s pride was hurt too much by the fall. Soviet Union which he experiences as a personal defeat. It was too painful and sickening for him to contemplate the obscurantism that swirled in subsequent years... After all, before his eyes, everything that his ancestors had built with enormous efforts was collapsing. Fathers, grandfathers, great-grandfathers... Malnourished. Lack of sleep. Taking away all the best from themselves so that their children could have a better life. He is hurt and ashamed of what is happening around him. But what could he personally do when the whole country was shaking, gripped by a feverish passion for “jeans and Coca-Cola,” having lost all life guidelines and burning in the fire of growing spiritual and moral decay?

It was on this wave that our hero was made an offer that he could not refuse, thereby beginning a new life path for young Alexander Alexandrovich Romanov, the future Emperor Russian Empire Alexandra III with “firmware” from the future. The path is long and difficult, waist-deep in blood. A journey of fifty-four years, from March 10, 1855 to March 10, 1909. The path to his dream, for which he was ready to do anything.

Post scriptum. In order not to amuse various evil natures, I want to note that in this science fiction novel everything is invented by the author, and any coincidences are random.

For the fifth day it had been a thin, nasty rain, turning almost everything into one continuous mess. The gray sky reliably hid the earth from the meager autumn sun and created the effect of an incomprehensible gloom. It’s as if it’s not day outside, but early morning or late evening.

Alexander looked thoughtfully at how the drops flowing from the roof beat a muffled, unhurried rhythm on the windowsill. He was full of sadness and sorrow. Yesterday, by a stupid accident, his true friend and faithful ally, Nikolai Ivanovich Putilov, passed away. The only person in this alien world with whom he could communicate honestly, sincerely and practically without hiding anything.

Never before had he been so sickened by the loss of a loved one. I wanted to forget myself and just not think about what happened. Drown either in strong alcohol or in work. However, all this remained only inside Alexander. Outwardly, he held up quite well, appearing before his subjects and comrades as an Emperor made of stainless steel, whom, it would seem, nothing could break or unsettle. But only a few knew what it cost him.

Two days later, Moscow residents were able to see the funeral procession, which moved slowly in almost pouring rain. It’s good that all the key roads in Moscow were able to be covered with paving stones, otherwise the already unpleasant farewell procedure would have turned into pure horror. There is little joy or comfort in walking knee-deep in muddy ground.

However, despite the fairly high-quality road, the beauty of the procession was saved only by the personal participation of the Emperor, who was the first to follow the coffin. Especially after the torrential rain turned into a real downpour with hail and gusty winds. However, while the procession walked the last couple of miles to the Donskoye cemetery, the violence of the elements rapidly subsided. And after the coffin was carried through the gate, the whole “wet business” stopped, a gusty wind quickly tore apart the continuous curtain of clouds and individual rays began to break through to the ground, creating a somewhat fantastic picture.

“It’s a good omen,” Alexander, wet to the skin, said loudly, looking at this. But the very wet and chilled participants in the procession were not very happy about what was said. For them at that moment, only one thing was important - to change into dry clothes and warm up somewhere. Or better yet, drink some hot tea or mulled wine. Not everyone was as strong-willed as their overlord.

Since the days of the Emperor’s grandiose triumph in 1871–1872, when he was able to defeat Russia’s eternal enemies with great benefit for the Fatherland, much has changed. And the death of Nikolai Ivanovich became a feature that marked this not the most rosy stage in the life of Russia and the Emperor.

"Childhood diseases" of a large empire

Let me in kind person! Let the good man in, otherwise he will break down the door!

"Aibolit-66"

Fyodor Dmitrievich was traveling in his compartment to his place of duty after being treated at a medical and health center in Abkhazia. It took three months for his wound to heal and for him to fully recover. Not so little, but not too quickly, but it was enough for him to heal and rest. Therefore, he went to the unit in high spirits and especially blossomed when his old acquaintance, whom he had not seen for many years, sat down with him in Tsaritsyn - since the beginning of the Asian campaign to conquer Central Asia and Eastern Turkestan.

I see, Fyodor Dmitrievich, you are in an excellent mood,” Andrei Ivanovich turned to him.

How can one not be surprised? How many years have passed since our meeting?

It’s been almost four years now,” Andrei Ivanovich smiled.

Time flies inexorably,” Fyodor Lavrenenko shook his head with feigned disappointment.

And he does not leave the faithful sons of the Fatherland without his encouragement,” Khrushchev smiled, nodding at the major’s shoulder straps of his fellow traveler.

Yes,” Fyodor Dmitrievich waved, “it’s empty.”

That's how it is, however, you are pretty lucky. As you can see, I still can’t get out of the captain’s ranks.

Can't pass the certification?

Exactly! - Captain Khrushchev said with expression. “I’ve already submitted my report seven times, collected all the recommendations, but I’m failing when running.” I don't even know what to do now. They only hang chevrons for length of service, but they are of little use.

Why are you doing this? Not preparing for the certification properly? Before each one, I collected all my leave cards and went on vacation to prepare, completely burying myself in books.

“I admit, I didn’t do that,” Khrushchev said with some surprise.

What, you tried to get through? On a whim?

Fyodor Dmitrievich, have mercy, I’ve been in the army for over ten years now! Where should I study papers and read all sorts of nonsense? I know army life from the inside and very well. Here, look,” Khrushchev waved at his “iconostasis.” Fyodor looked at the two crosses with swords, three St. George medals and thought for a while. - What? Impressive?

Dear readers, you are holding in your hands the sixth – the final volume of the novel with the working title “Alexander”, which tells about the adventures of our contemporary in not very distant antiquity (in the 19th century).

Who is he, our hero? An orphan who lost all his family in childhood and grew up in an orphanage. Senior warrant officer of the Airborne Forces. Order bearer. A veteran of the first Chechen war, demobilized due to injury, having lost both feet on a mine... A simple and harsh fate. She broke many, depriving them of self-confidence and prospects in life. But Alexander not only did not give up after becoming a cripple in civilian life, but on the contrary, he was able to achieve considerable success in the crucible of the “nineties” and “zeros”. His business, which still did not survive several showdowns with bandits, left behind quite a decent amount of money. And his perseverance, intelligence and hard work gave him two higher educations (world economics and domestic history) and a huge horizon, including in issues that did not directly concern his work. He also developed curiosity, a critical mind and flexibility of thinking, since the tasks he faced were not simple. All this is not so little. At least, few of our contemporaries can boast of such a “bouquet”.

However, the main feature of his character and consciousness was his mental organization, which was unusual for his peers. The fact is that Alexander did not take from his childhood that beautiful-hearted humanism, philanthropy and indifferent indecision that bloomed magnificently in the souls of many people of the late Soviet era, due to some monstrous misunderstanding being considered indispensable character traits of any well-educated and cultured person. Our hero turned out to be surprisingly indiscriminate in methods and means, and he was not accustomed to feeling compassion either for himself or for other people. Because of this, he often looked like a stubborn and weak-sighted rhinoceros, who gloomily and inexorably walked towards his intended goal. Which? Strange, scary and inexplicably attractive... one that has visited each of us more than once. After all, you must agree that the soul of many is warmed with eternal fire by the idea of ​​achieving, even if not in our world, somewhere in another assembly of space and time, the transformation of his homeland into something immeasurably great. In addition, Alexander’s pride was too much hurt by the fall of the Soviet Union, which he experienced as a personal defeat. It was too painful and sickening for him to contemplate the obscurantism that swirled in subsequent years... After all, before his eyes, everything that his ancestors had built with enormous efforts was collapsing. Fathers, grandfathers, great-grandfathers... Malnourished. Lack of sleep. Taking away all the best from themselves so that their children could have a better life. He is hurt and ashamed of what is happening around him. But what could he personally do when the whole country was shaking, gripped by a feverish passion for “jeans and Coca-Cola,” having lost all life guidelines and burning in the fire of growing spiritual and moral decay?

It was on this wave that our hero was made an offer that he could not refuse, thereby beginning a new life path for young Alexander Alexandrovich Romanov, the future Emperor of the Russian Empire Alexander III with “firmware” from the future. The path is long and difficult, waist-deep in blood. A journey of fifty-four years, from March 10, 1855 to March 10, 1909. The path to his dream, for which he was ready to do anything.

Post scriptum. In order not to amuse various evil natures, I want to note that in this science fiction novel everything is invented by the author, and any coincidences are random.

For the fifth day it had been a thin, nasty rain, turning almost everything into one continuous mess. The gray sky reliably hid the earth from the meager autumn sun and created the effect of an incomprehensible gloom. It’s as if it’s not day outside, but early morning or late evening.

Alexander looked thoughtfully at how the drops flowing from the roof beat a muffled, unhurried rhythm on the windowsill. He was full of sadness and sorrow. Yesterday, by a stupid accident, his true friend and faithful ally, Nikolai Ivanovich Putilov, passed away. The only person in this alien world with whom he could communicate honestly, sincerely and practically without hiding anything.

Never before had he been so sickened by the loss of a loved one. I wanted to forget myself and just not think about what happened. Drown either in strong alcohol or in work. However, all this remained only inside Alexander. Outwardly, he held up quite well, appearing before his subjects and comrades as an Emperor made of stainless steel, whom, it would seem, nothing could break or unsettle. But only a few knew what it cost him.

Two days later, Moscow residents were able to see the funeral procession, which moved slowly in almost pouring rain. It’s good that all the key roads in Moscow were able to be covered with paving stones, otherwise the already unpleasant farewell procedure would have turned into pure horror. There is little joy or comfort in walking knee-deep in muddy ground.

However, despite the fairly high-quality road, the beauty of the procession was saved only by the personal participation of the Emperor, who was the first to follow the coffin. Especially after the torrential rain turned into a real downpour with hail and gusty winds. However, while the procession walked the last couple of miles to the Donskoye cemetery, the violence of the elements rapidly subsided. And after the coffin was carried through the gate, the whole “wet business” stopped altogether, a gusty wind quickly tore apart the continuous curtain of clouds and individual rays began to break through to the ground, creating a somewhat fantastic picture.

“It’s a good omen,” Alexander, wet to the skin, said loudly, looking at this. But the very wet and chilled participants in the procession were not very happy about what was said. For them at that moment, only one thing was important - to change into dry clothes and warm up somewhere. Better yet, drink some hot tea or mulled wine. Not everyone was as strong-willed as their overlord.

Since the days of the Emperor’s grandiose triumph in 1871–1872, when he was able to defeat Russia’s eternal enemies with great benefit for the Fatherland, much has changed. And the death of Nikolai Ivanovich became a feature that marked this not the most rosy stage in the life of Russia and the Emperor.

"Childhood diseases" of a large empire

Let the good man in! Let the good man in, otherwise he will break down the door!

"Aibolit-66"

Fyodor Dmitrievich was traveling in his compartment to his place of duty after being treated at a medical and health center in Abkhazia. It took three months for his wound to heal and for him to fully recover. Not so little, but not too quickly, but it was enough for him to heal and rest. Therefore, he went to the unit in high spirits and especially blossomed when his old acquaintance, whom he had not seen for many years, sat down with him in Tsaritsyn - since the beginning of the Asian campaign to conquer Central Asia and Eastern Turkestan.

“I see, Fyodor Dmitrievich, you are in an excellent mood,” Andrei Ivanovich turned to him.

- How can one not be surprised? How many years have passed since our meeting?

“It’s been almost four years already,” Andrei Ivanovich smiled.

“Time flies inexorably,” Fyodor Lavrenenko shook his head with feigned disappointment.

“And he does not leave the faithful sons of the Fatherland without his encouragement,” Khrushchev smiled, nodding at the major’s shoulder straps of his fellow traveler.

“Yes,” Fyodor Dmitrievich waved, “it’s empty.”

From the author

Dear readers, you are holding in your hands the sixth – the final volume of the novel with the working title “Alexander”, which tells about the adventures of our contemporary in not very distant antiquity (in the 19th century).

Who is he, our hero? An orphan who lost all his family in childhood and grew up in an orphanage. Senior warrant officer of the Airborne Forces. Order bearer. A veteran of the first Chechen war, demobilized due to injury, having lost both feet on a mine... A simple and harsh fate. She broke many, depriving them of self-confidence and prospects in life. But Alexander not only did not give up after becoming a cripple in civilian life, but on the contrary, he was able to achieve considerable success in the crucible of the “nineties” and “zeros”. His business, which still did not survive several showdowns with bandits, left behind quite a decent amount of money. And his perseverance, intelligence and hard work gave him two higher educations (world economics and domestic history) and a huge horizon, including in issues that did not directly concern his work. He also developed curiosity, a critical mind and flexibility of thinking, since the tasks he faced were not simple. All this is not so little. At least, few of our contemporaries can boast of such a “bouquet”.

However, the main feature of his character and consciousness was his mental organization, which was unusual for his peers. The fact is that Alexander did not take from his childhood that beautiful-hearted humanism, philanthropy and indifferent indecision that bloomed magnificently in the souls of many people of the late Soviet era, due to some monstrous misunderstanding being considered indispensable character traits of any well-educated and cultured person. Our hero turned out to be surprisingly indiscriminate in methods and means, and he was not accustomed to feeling compassion either for himself or for other people. Because of this, he often looked like a stubborn and weak-sighted rhinoceros, who gloomily and inexorably walked towards his intended goal. Which? Strange, scary and inexplicably attractive... one that has visited each of us more than once. After all, you must agree that the soul of many is warmed with eternal fire by the idea of ​​achieving, even if not in our world, somewhere in another assembly of space and time, the transformation of his homeland into something immeasurably great. In addition, Alexander’s pride was too much hurt by the fall of the Soviet Union, which he experienced as a personal defeat. It was too painful and sickening for him to contemplate the obscurantism that swirled in subsequent years... After all, before his eyes, everything that his ancestors had built with enormous efforts was collapsing. Fathers, grandfathers, great-grandfathers... Malnourished. Lack of sleep. Taking away all the best from themselves so that their children could have a better life. He is hurt and ashamed of what is happening around him. But what could he personally do when the whole country was shaking, gripped by a feverish passion for “jeans and Coca-Cola,” having lost all life guidelines and burning in the fire of growing spiritual and moral decay?

It was on this wave that our hero was made an offer that he could not refuse, thereby beginning a new life path for young Alexander Alexandrovich Romanov, the future Emperor of the Russian Empire Alexander III with “firmware” from the future. The path is long and difficult, waist-deep in blood. A journey of fifty-four years, from March 10, 1855 to March 10, 1909. The path to his dream, for which he was ready to do anything.

Post scriptum. In order not to amuse various evil natures, I want to note that in this science fiction novel everything is invented by the author, and any coincidences are random.

Prologue

For the fifth day it had been a thin, nasty rain, turning almost everything into one continuous mess. The gray sky reliably hid the earth from the meager autumn sun and created the effect of an incomprehensible gloom. It’s as if it’s not day outside, but early morning or late evening.

Alexander looked thoughtfully at how the drops flowing from the roof beat a muffled, unhurried rhythm on the windowsill. He was full of sadness and sorrow. Yesterday, by a stupid accident, his true friend and faithful ally, Nikolai Ivanovich Putilov, passed away. The only person in this alien world with whom he could communicate honestly, sincerely and practically without hiding anything.

Never before had he been so sickened by the loss of a loved one. I wanted to forget myself and just not think about what happened. Drown either in strong alcohol or in work. However, all this remained only inside Alexander. Outwardly, he held up quite well, appearing before his subjects and comrades as an Emperor made of stainless steel, whom, it would seem, nothing could break or unsettle. But only a few knew what it cost him.

Two days later, Moscow residents were able to see the funeral procession, which moved slowly in almost pouring rain. It’s good that all the key roads in Moscow were able to be covered with paving stones, otherwise the already unpleasant farewell procedure would have turned into pure horror. There is little joy or comfort in walking knee-deep in muddy ground.

However, despite the fairly high-quality road, the beauty of the procession was saved only by the personal participation of the Emperor, who was the first to follow the coffin. Especially after the torrential rain turned into a real downpour with hail and gusty winds. However, while the procession walked the last couple of miles to the Donskoye cemetery, the violence of the elements rapidly subsided. And after the coffin was carried through the gate, the whole “wet business” stopped altogether, a gusty wind quickly tore apart the continuous curtain of clouds and individual rays began to break through to the ground, creating a somewhat fantastic picture.

“It’s a good omen,” Alexander, wet to the skin, said loudly, looking at this. But the very wet and chilled participants in the procession were not very happy about what was said. For them at that moment, only one thing was important - to change into dry clothes and warm up somewhere. Better yet, drink some hot tea or mulled wine. Not everyone was as strong-willed as their overlord.

Since the days of the Emperor’s grandiose triumph in 1871–1872, when he was able to defeat Russia’s eternal enemies with great benefit for the Fatherland, much has changed. And the death of Nikolai Ivanovich became a feature that marked this not the most rosy stage in the life of Russia and the Emperor.

Part 1
"Childhood diseases" of a large empire

Let the good man in! Let the good man in, otherwise he will break down the door!

"Aibolit-66"

Chapter 1

March 5, 1878. Tsaritsyn railway station

Fyodor Dmitrievich was traveling in his compartment to his place of duty after being treated at a medical and health center in Abkhazia. It took three months for his wound to heal and for him to fully recover. Not so little, but not too quickly, but it was enough for him to heal and rest. Therefore, he went to the unit in high spirits and especially blossomed when his old acquaintance, whom he had not seen for many years, sat down with him in Tsaritsyn - since the beginning of the Asian campaign to conquer Central Asia and Eastern Turkestan.

“I see, Fyodor Dmitrievich, you are in an excellent mood,” Andrei Ivanovich turned to him.

- How can one not be surprised? How many years have passed since our meeting?

“It’s been almost four years already,” Andrei Ivanovich smiled.

“Time flies inexorably,” Fyodor Lavrenenko shook his head with feigned disappointment.

“And he does not leave the faithful sons of the Fatherland without his encouragement,” Khrushchev smiled, nodding at the major’s shoulder straps of his fellow traveler.

“Yes,” Fyodor Dmitrievich waved, “it’s empty.”

“That’s true, but you’re pretty lucky.” As you can see, I still can’t get out of the captain’s ranks.

– Can’t pass the certification?

- Exactly! – Captain Khrushchev said with expression. “I’ve already submitted my report seven times, collected all the recommendations, but I’m failing when running. I don't even know what to do now. They only hang chevrons for length of service, but they are of little use.

- Why are you doing this? Not preparing for the certification properly? Before each one, I collected all my leave cards and went on vacation to prepare, completely burying myself in books.

“I admit, I didn’t do that,” Khrushchev said with some surprise.

- Did you try to get through anyway? On a whim?

– Fyodor Dmitrievich, for mercy’s sake, I’ve been in the army for over ten years! Where should I study papers and read all sorts of nonsense? I know army life from the inside and very well. Here, look,” Khrushchev waved at his “iconostasis.” Fyodor looked at the two crosses with swords, three St. George medals and thought for a while. - What? Impressive?

“Yes, such awards are not given just like that,” Major Lavrenenko agreed with Andrei Ivanovich.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Khrushchev waved his hand with sad regret. “I don’t understand, I just don’t understand why I can’t get a major because of this stupid certification.”

“It tests your knowledge as an officer, and not your personal courage, which, apparently, you don’t lack.”

– What are you getting at? – Khrushchev asked suspiciously.

“Personal courage is not the only virtue in battle,” Fyodor Dmitrievich threw up his hands. - At least that’s what He teaches us. Imperial Majesty.

“Oh, you’re talking about this,” Andrei Ivanovich grimaced. “To them,” Khrushchev pointed his finger upward, “it seems that galloping ahead of a detachment and leading it into battle is not the sacred duty of an officer.” That I should be doing something else, hiding behind my people. What kind of soldier will follow me if I hide behind him, afraid to expose my head to enemy bullets and sabers?

– That’s right, my dear Andrei Ivanovich, personal courage is very important. But a spoon, as they say, is the way to dinner. – Lavrenenko thought for a few seconds, then grinned. - Here's the thing. After all, I am now studying in absentia at regular advanced training courses at the Moscow Imperial Military Engineering Academy and have learned a lot of interesting things.

– Are you preparing for certification to become a colonel?

- Yes. This is a difficult stage, but if I pass it, the road to the ranks of general will open for me.

“We make some kind of bookish generals,” Khrushchev chuckled.

“Not without this,” Lavrenenko smiled at the joke. - So, you see. The higher the officer's rank, the further he should be from danger. Here is a sergeant or lieutenant - yes, they jump on the front line, go into hand-to-hand combat. They lead the fighters forward. They inspire by example. But the general won’t run ahead of his division? Agree, Andrei Ivanovich, that this looks stupid.

- Perhaps.

“So it turns out that even lieutenants should no longer run ahead, waving a revolver or a saber, but control their people. Even lieutenants,” Fyodor Dmitrievich repeated. – Moreover, the commands are not “Come with me!”, but the distribution of tasks between sergeants and corporals. The first link goes there, does this and that. The second squad takes up defensive positions in that sector. And so on. At the same time, if possible, do not enter into battle yourself, but turn your head and see what is happening in order to quickly respond to changes in the combat situation.

– Some of your officers are cowardly.

– This is how we are taught to fight at the academy, putting personnel management at the forefront, and not the desire to personally shoot a rifle or add a few more hacked enemies to our account. Believe it or not, already as a major there is so much paperwork that your head is spinning. I'm currently serving at regimental headquarters.

“That’s it,” Andrei Ivanovich smiled. - And I think what’s wrong with what you’re saying. It seems that a battalion commander should not think like that.

“How a battalion commander should think, I think the certification commission can see better,” Fyodor Dmitrievich returned the rudeness. “His Imperial Majesty decreed that we should fight like this and think like this, and that’s why they dance.” Or do you think that his new teaching on war turned out to be unsuitable?

- Certainly! Usual stupidity!

– Aren’t you afraid to talk about the Emperor like that?

- You are an officer, not a market woman, why should I be afraid? – Khrushchev asked defiantly.

- Continue.

“I think that Alexander is simply a very lucky man who took advantage of the situation and achieved military success using more cunning than military skill.” Well, an officer can’t sit in the rear and pull the strings! Personal courage, training and example are the basis of Russian military skill. If you are a cavalryman, then please lead the attack personally, and not watch it from afar. You are the father of your soldiers, whom you lead. Is not it?

- So. But that is the level of management of junior command staff and non-commissioned officers. You understand, dear Andrei Ivanovich, that, being at the forefront of an attack, even at the head of a battalion in a modern battle, you cannot control it. They gave the order to move there and that was it. And what is going on there on the flanks is not clear to anyone. Especially if you advance in a new way, in loose formation, flexibly controlling companies and platoons, and not as before - moving in a battalion box to enemy positions. The war has changed. She's changed too much.

- What has changed in her? – Khrushchev asked skeptically.

“That’s it,” Lavrenenko smiled. – We can say that the war of the times of Napoleon Bonaparte and now are two big differences. Remember - seventy years ago, a dashing attack by cuirassiers could decide the outcome of the battle. Now it is doomed to failure due to the destructiveness of small arms and artillery fire. You can't even imagine how sad it is for me to realize this.

- Come on! You were with me in this God-damned Asian campaign. I saw with my own eyes the decisive successes of light cavalry attacks with white weapons on these bandits.

– And I took part in them. But this is not indicative. They are natives, practically devoid of good weapons and discipline. If your reiters were in their place, we would simply be shot. And they had nothing to shoot with. And with weapons, everything is very sad - not everyone even has sabers, and those who do have them cannot really use them. After all, you should know that we were strictly forbidden to carry out attacks with white weapons on our own initiative at the initial stage of the campaign. And then, when they knocked out almost all the experienced fighters, they went ahead. Not earlier. Yesterday's shepherd with a saber does not become a warrior. Especially considering the fact that they have virtually no training system for these militias.

- That’s how it is, but...

- What about “but”? Place a German Landwehr regiment there, armed with normal rifles, and that’s it. We would wash ourselves in blood. Much has been written about this based on the experience of the military campaigns of 1871 and 1872. In the old fashioned way, we can only fight with undisciplined and untrained savages, deprived of normal weapons. That's all.

– Fyodor Dmitrievich, I think you are exaggerating.

“Not at all,” Lavrenenko snapped. – I have been convinced of this for several years now. That’s why I’m sitting at the headquarters job. This is my foundation for leaving for another branch of the military. The cavalry does not and will not have a future. The past cannot be returned. Yes, no one will abolish it, but its role in the war, the further it goes, the more it will decline. Already now, in the combat schedules of regular army corps, it is assigned the role of combat guards and auxiliary patrols. And combat formations larger than a squadron are available almost exclusively only in our beloved cavalry corps.

- And where are you going?

- To the engineering sapper troops.

- What?! – Khrushchev was sincerely surprised. – The cavalryman will go build bridges and dig trenches?!

- Why not? I have been subscribing to the magazines “Modelist-Konstruktor” and “Technology for Youth” for a year now and, I must admit, I have found a lot of interesting things in them. And the engineering units are now very intensively equipped with modern technology.

Interlude

On June 9, 1881, Fyodor Dmitrievich Lavrenenko was selected to command the 1st cuirassier battalion deployed near Orel. This was the first mechanized military unit in the world, although it was top secret, which is why it was named in such a strange way.

Andrei Ivanovich Khrushchev had died shortly before during another skirmish on the Russian-Chinese border. His unparalleled courage during the counterattack made it possible to throw the entrenched gang from its defensive lines and flee to the territory of the National Republic of China. He did not wait for the summoned artillery battery to approach, relying on his brave prowess and sharp saber. Although the locked gang could not escape from their positions and did not want to get in front of bullets, the situation was stalemate. And after this attack, less than a third of the fighters remained from his squadron of reiters. If Andrei Ivanovich had waited a couple of hours, keeping the gang locked up, then the approaching battery would have quickly and swiftly mowed it down with shrapnel. But he didn't wait. Why - no one could answer this question. Maybe he wasn’t smart enough, or maybe he just wanted to get a new military award. In any case, the act was unreasonable - they missed the gang and lost people. Of course, such things were not written in the newspaper, but because of such an outburst by Captain Khrushchev, the personnel of the entire first cavalry corps were “heated.” The lessons of the new war were taught at great cost to the officers of the old school. And for some, it was not given at all. They were buried like that, unbroken by the spirit of the new war.

Chapter 2

July 16, 1877. Moscow. Kremlin. Nikolaevsky Palace

It was a quiet, calm night outside. Beautiful and peaceful. It would seem that in such a wonderful time nothing terrible should happen, but it was on this day that tragedy happened - Nasser ad-Din Shah Qajar, the progressive ruler of Persia and a friend of the Russian Emperor, died at the hands of Islamic fundamentalists. And with him his entire family, gathered on the occasion of the celebrations in the Marble Throne Hall of the Golestan Palace in Tehran. Five hundred kilograms of dynamite in the basement had their say - the throne room was formed like a house of cards.

- Huge charge! – Alexander paced around the office in irritation. – How did it happen that there was such a mine in the residence?

“Your Imperial Majesty,” Minister of Foreign Affairs of the Russian Empire Alexander Mikhailovich Gorchakov tiredly rubbed his eyes. “We believe that the Shah was betrayed by someone from his inner circle. Now Vladimir Nikolaevich,” he nodded to the head of Imperial Intelligence Kovalev, “and Andrei Pavlovich,” another nod, now on the other hand, to the Imperial Commissioner for the Persian Mission Stoyanov, “are working on this issue.

– When will you be able to find out exactly the circumstances of the case?

“We will have preliminary information no earlier than in a month,” said Andrei Pavlovich Stoyanov.

“Okay,” the Emperor calmed down a little and sat down at his table. – The Shah was our foundation of influence in Persia. He died. There are no heirs. What is the current situation in Persia? How can we maintain our presence there? Do you have at least an approximate scenario of events?

“Apparently,” Kovalev began, “this murder is not so much an internal matter as a consequence of the success of someone’s intelligence service.” Our main competitor in the region is the British. I think their ears will come out sooner or later.

“I agree with Vladimir Nikolaevich,” Andrei Pavlovich nodded. “And I want to note that five hundred kilograms of explosives could not just get to the completely savage fundamentalists.” Nobody would simply sell it to them - it’s more expensive for themselves. This means that we are dealing with a well-executed sabotage that eliminated a politician beneficial to Russia in Persia. It was only a year ago that Britain was finally able to make peace with the Sikh Empire, recognizing its independence and territorial gains. The position of Foggy Albion in the Indian Ocean region is very precarious until it is fenced off from Russia by an exclusion zone from states with an Anglophile elite.

– Do you want to say that the British are planning to reorient Persia towards themselves? – asked the Emperor.

“They wouldn’t refuse, but they’re unlikely to be able to do it now.” But here civil war in Persia they will definitely arrange it. According to the scant information we have, several military camps are located in northwestern India in which Muslim volunteers are preparing for the war to liberate Persia from Russian influence.

– Do they want to use the Sikh script against us?

- I think yes. On our side is a small, but quite combat-ready, by local standards, army, all of whose senior officers studied in Russia. On the side of the British are imams who are actively muddying the waters throughout Persia.

“Alexander Mikhailovich,” the Emperor turned to Gorchakov, “do you think one of the senior officers can be proclaimed Shah in Persia?”

- Undoubtedly. But will all his subjects follow him? That's the question. Now there is no legitimate leader in Persia, and those who claim this post are very weak.

“It turns out that the British want to pit these mongrels against each other...” Alexander said thoughtfully.

- And what will this give?

– Firstly, the severe ruin of the state, which will reduce the already low combat potential of Persia. Secondly, it will make it possible in the future to disintegrate Persia into several small “powers”, much weaker and more wretched. Thirdly, under the guise of chaos, they will have the opportunity to carry out sabotage on the Solnechnogorsk-Tehran-Basra railway. This is a priority area because it allows us to significantly reduce the travel time of goods from India to Europe. The Tehran – Krasnograd – Kamennogorsk – Semirechinsk – Verny – Novosibirsk highway, which is under construction, may become secondary. I am convinced that sabotage and attacks on personnel will occur there.

– Do you think that they will try to destroy objects that are important to us as much as possible?

- Exactly. I believe that the main reason for such an attempt was to block the work of our railway running from the shores of the Persian Gulf to the interior of the country. Everything else is less significant.

– The Persian army will not be able to protect our railway, it is too weak.

“It is for this reason that I ask you, Alexander Mikhailovich, to find an unconditional leader among the Persian officers as soon as possible and recognize his legitimate authority.” Even if for this he would have to be recognized as the illegitimate son of the late Shah and the goldfish. Did you understand me? Let's choose. We place a bet. Let's play. No delays or red tape. It’s best if you can pull off, on the one hand, a relationship, albeit distant, with the late Shah, and on the other hand, arrange an open vote among senior officers. We need them to recognize him as a leader.

“I understand you, Your Imperial Majesty,” Gorchakov nodded.

– After completing this procedure, I need you to obtain from the new Shah the right of Russia to defend our railways and property. That is, permission to introduce military contingents into Persia.

– What is the order of the troops?

“We will send all four armored trains and twenty-five thousand personnel there.”

“His people might start to resent him.” After all, this is an open intervention,” Gorchakov raised his eyebrow. - Whatever you call her.

“In return, our new Shah and friend will receive small arms and ammunition from Russia in fairly large quantities. I think you are quite capable of handling such volumes as one hundred thousand B-58 rifles. And a thousand rounds of ammunition for each. We will give these weapons to him free of charge.

- Machine guns? Guns?

- These things will come at an additional cost. But the issue is completely negotiable. Based on the models, focus on old mechanical machine guns and Armstrong cannons.

– What if the new Shah wants rifles of our production?

– For a fee – anything. Within reason, of course.

“I understand you,” Gorchakov nodded.

The magazines “Modelist-Constructor” and “Technology for Youth” were established by the Emperor’s decree of July 1, 1873 and generally correspond to the topics conceived during their initial creation in the USSR.

The Imperial Commissioner is the Emperor’s personal envoy who oversees a particular issue. He is a member of the Imperial Control Commission, subordinate directly to the Emperor. In terms of his status, the Imperial Commissioner of the 1st rank is one step below the People's Commissar, to whom he can only fall under operational subordination. Imperial Commissars have three ranks: I, II and III.

According to the norm adopted at the Zemsky Sobor in 1874, all large settlements that became part of the Russian Empire were subject to renaming to new variants. General imperial. Those who entered after 01/01/1870 are required, the rest are at the request of the local zemstvo assembly. At the general zemstvo meeting of the city of Baku, the “Solnechnogorsk” option was chosen.

Faithful - Alma-Ata. The original name given to the Russian fortress before its renaming to Alma-Ata.

Mikhail Lantsov

DEATH TO BRITAIN! “THE KING GAVE US AN ORDER”

Dear readers, you are holding in your hands the sixth - final volume of the novel with the working title “Alexander”, which tells about the adventures of our contemporary in not very distant antiquity (in the 19th century).

Who is he, our hero? An orphan who lost all his family in childhood and grew up in an orphanage. Senior warrant officer of the Airborne Forces. Order bearer. A veteran of the first Chechen war, demobilized due to injury, having lost both feet on a mine... A simple and harsh fate. She broke many, depriving them of self-confidence and prospects in life. But Alexander not only did not give up after becoming a cripple in civilian life, but on the contrary, he was able to achieve considerable success in the crucible of the “nineties” and “zeros”. His business, which still did not survive several showdowns with bandits, left behind quite a decent amount of money. And his perseverance, intelligence and hard work gave him two higher educations (world economics and domestic history) and a huge horizon, including in issues that did not directly concern his work. He also developed curiosity, a critical mind and flexibility of thinking, since the tasks he faced were not simple. All this is not so little. At least, few of our contemporaries can boast of such a “bouquet”.

However, the main feature of his character and consciousness was his mental organization, which was unusual for his peers. The fact is that Alexander did not take from his childhood that beautiful-hearted humanism, philanthropy and indifferent indecision that bloomed magnificently in the souls of many people of the late Soviet era, due to some monstrous misunderstanding being considered indispensable character traits of any well-educated and cultured person. Our hero turned out to be surprisingly indiscriminate in methods and means, and he was not accustomed to feeling compassion either for himself or for other people. Because of this, he often looked like a stubborn and weak-sighted rhinoceros, who gloomily and inexorably walked towards his intended goal. Which? Strange, scary and inexplicably attractive... one that has visited each of us more than once. After all, you must agree that the soul of many is warmed with eternal fire by the idea of ​​achieving, even if not in our world, somewhere in another assembly of space and time, the transformation of his homeland into something immeasurably great. In addition, Alexander’s pride was too much hurt by the fall of the Soviet Union, which he experienced as a personal defeat. It was too painful and sickening for him to contemplate the obscurantism that swirled in subsequent years... After all, before his eyes, everything that his ancestors had built with enormous efforts was collapsing. Fathers, grandfathers, great-grandfathers... Malnourished. Lack of sleep. Taking away all the best from themselves so that their children could have a better life. He is hurt and ashamed of what is happening around him. But what could he personally do when the whole country was shaking, gripped by a feverish passion for “jeans and Coca-Cola,” having lost all life guidelines and burning in the fire of growing spiritual and moral decay?

It was on this wave that our hero was made an offer that he could not refuse, thereby beginning a new life path for young Alexander Alexandrovich Romanov, the future Emperor of the Russian Empire Alexander III with “firmware” from the future. The path is long and difficult, waist-deep in blood. A journey of fifty-four years, from March 10, 1855 to March 10, 1909. The path to his dream, for which he was ready to do anything.

Post scriptum. In order not to amuse various evil natures, I want to note that in this science fiction novel everything is invented by the author, and any coincidences are random.

For the fifth day it had been a thin, nasty rain, turning almost everything into one continuous mess. The gray sky reliably hid the earth from the meager autumn sun and created the effect of an incomprehensible gloom. It’s as if it’s not day outside, but early morning or late evening.

Alexander looked thoughtfully at how the drops flowing from the roof beat a muffled, unhurried rhythm on the windowsill. He was full of sadness and sorrow. Yesterday, by a stupid accident, his true friend and faithful ally, Nikolai Ivanovich Putilov, passed away. The only person in this alien world with whom he could communicate honestly, sincerely and practically without hiding anything.

Never before had he been so sickened by the loss of a loved one. I wanted to forget myself and just not think about what happened. Drown either in strong alcohol or in work. However, all this remained only inside Alexander. Outwardly, he held up quite well, appearing before his subjects and comrades as an Emperor made of stainless steel, whom, it would seem, nothing could break or unsettle. But only a few knew what it cost him.

Mikhail Lantsov

Death to Britain! “The king gave us an order”

Dear readers, you are holding in your hands the sixth - final volume of the novel with the working title “Alexander”, which tells about the adventures of our contemporary in not very distant antiquity (in the 19th century).

Who is he, our hero? An orphan who lost all his family in childhood and grew up in an orphanage. Senior warrant officer of the Airborne Forces. Order bearer. A veteran of the first Chechen war, demobilized due to injury, having lost both feet on a mine... A simple and harsh fate. She broke many, depriving them of self-confidence and prospects in life. But Alexander not only did not give up after becoming a cripple in civilian life, but on the contrary, he was able to achieve considerable success in the crucible of the “nineties” and “zeros”. His business, which still did not survive several showdowns with bandits, left behind quite a decent amount of money. And his perseverance, intelligence and hard work gave him two higher educations (world economics and domestic history) and a huge horizon, including in issues that did not directly concern his work. He also developed curiosity, a critical mind and flexibility of thinking, since the tasks he faced were not simple. All this is not so little. At least, few of our contemporaries can boast of such a “bouquet”.

However, the main feature of his character and consciousness was his mental organization, which was unusual for his peers. The fact is that Alexander did not take from his childhood that beautiful-hearted humanism, philanthropy and indifferent indecision that bloomed magnificently in the souls of many people of the late Soviet era, due to some monstrous misunderstanding being considered indispensable character traits of any well-educated and cultured person. Our hero turned out to be surprisingly indiscriminate in methods and means, and he was not accustomed to feeling compassion either for himself or for other people. Because of this, he often looked like a stubborn and weak-sighted rhinoceros, who gloomily and inexorably walked towards his intended goal. Which? Strange, scary and inexplicably attractive... one that has visited each of us more than once. After all, you must agree that the soul of many is warmed with eternal fire by the idea of ​​achieving, even if not in our world, somewhere in another assembly of space and time, the transformation of his homeland into something immeasurably great. In addition, Alexander’s pride was too much hurt by the fall of the Soviet Union, which he experienced as a personal defeat. It was too painful and sickening for him to contemplate the obscurantism that swirled in subsequent years... After all, before his eyes, everything that his ancestors had built with enormous efforts was collapsing. Fathers, grandfathers, great-grandfathers... Malnourished. Lack of sleep. Taking away all the best from themselves so that their children could have a better life. He is hurt and ashamed of what is happening around him. But what could he personally do when the whole country was shaking, gripped by a feverish passion for “jeans and Coca-Cola,” having lost all life guidelines and burning in the fire of growing spiritual and moral decay?

It was on this wave that our hero was made an offer that he could not refuse, thereby beginning a new life path for young Alexander Alexandrovich Romanov, the future Emperor of the Russian Empire Alexander III with “firmware” from the future. The path is long and difficult, waist-deep in blood. A journey of fifty-four years, from March 10, 1855 to March 10, 1909. The path to his dream, for which he was ready to do anything.

Post scriptum. In order not to amuse various evil natures, I want to note that in this science fiction novel everything is invented by the author, and any coincidences are random.

For the fifth day it had been a thin, nasty rain, turning almost everything into one continuous mess. The gray sky reliably hid the earth from the meager autumn sun and created the effect of an incomprehensible gloom. It’s as if it’s not day outside, but early morning or late evening.

Alexander looked thoughtfully at how the drops flowing from the roof beat a muffled, unhurried rhythm on the windowsill. He was full of sadness and sorrow. Yesterday, by a stupid accident, his true friend and faithful ally, Nikolai Ivanovich Putilov, passed away. The only person in this alien world with whom he could communicate honestly, sincerely and practically without hiding anything.

Never before had he been so sickened by the loss of a loved one. I wanted to forget myself and just not think about what happened. Drown either in strong alcohol or in work. However, all this remained only inside Alexander. Outwardly, he held up quite well, appearing before his subjects and comrades as an Emperor made of stainless steel, whom, it would seem, nothing could break or unsettle. But only a few knew what it cost him.

Two days later, Moscow residents were able to see the funeral procession, which moved slowly in almost pouring rain. It’s good that all the key roads in Moscow were able to be covered with paving stones, otherwise the already unpleasant farewell procedure would have turned into pure horror. There is little joy or comfort in walking knee-deep in muddy ground.

However, despite the fairly high-quality road, the beauty of the procession was saved only by the personal participation of the Emperor, who was the first to follow the coffin. Especially after the torrential rain turned into a real downpour with hail and gusty winds. However, while the procession walked the last couple of miles to the Donskoye cemetery, the violence of the elements rapidly subsided. And after the coffin was carried through the gate, the whole “wet business” stopped, a gusty wind quickly tore apart the continuous curtain of clouds and individual rays began to break through to the ground, creating a somewhat fantastic picture.

“It’s a good omen,” Alexander, wet to the skin, said loudly, looking at this. But the very wet and chilled participants in the procession were not very happy about what was said. For them at that moment, only one thing was important - to change into dry clothes and warm up somewhere. Or better yet, drink some hot tea or mulled wine. Not everyone was as strong-willed as their overlord.

Since the days of the Emperor’s grandiose triumph in 1871–1872, when he was able to defeat Russia’s eternal enemies with great benefit for the Fatherland, much has changed. And the death of Nikolai Ivanovich became a feature that marked this not the most rosy stage in the life of Russia and the Emperor.

"Childhood diseases" of a large empire

Let the good man in! Let the good man in, otherwise he will break down the door!

Fyodor Dmitrievich was traveling in his compartment to his place of duty after being treated at a medical and health center in Abkhazia. It took three months for his wound to heal and for him to fully recover. Not so little, but not too quickly, but it was enough for him to heal and rest. Therefore, he went to the unit in high spirits and especially blossomed when his old acquaintance, whom he had not seen for many years, sat down with him in Tsaritsyn - since the beginning of the Asian campaign to conquer Central Asia and Eastern Turkestan.

I see, Fyodor Dmitrievich, you are in an excellent mood,” Andrei Ivanovich turned to him.

How can one not be surprised? How many years have passed since our meeting?

It’s been almost four years now,” Andrei Ivanovich smiled.

Time flies inexorably,” Fyodor Lavrenenko shook his head with feigned disappointment.

And he does not leave the faithful sons of the Fatherland without his encouragement,” Khrushchev smiled, nodding at the major’s shoulder straps of his fellow traveler.

Yes,” Fyodor Dmitrievich waved, “it’s empty.”

That's how it is, however, you are pretty lucky. As you can see, I still can’t get out of the captain’s ranks.

Can't pass the certification?

Exactly! - Captain Khrushchev said with expression. “I’ve already submitted my report seven times, collected all the recommendations, but I’m failing when running.” I don't even know what to do now. They only hang chevrons for length of service, but they are of little use.

Why are you doing this? Not preparing for the certification properly? Before each one, I collected all my leave cards and went on vacation to prepare, completely burying myself in books.

“I admit, I didn’t do that,” Khrushchev said with some surprise.

What, you tried to get through? On a whim?

Fyodor Dmitrievich, have mercy, I’ve been in the army for over ten years now! Where should I study papers and read all sorts of nonsense? I know army life from the inside and very well. Here, look,” Khrushchev waved at his “iconostasis.” Fyodor looked at two crosses with swords, three St. George medals [See. Application. Award system of the 1870 model.] and thought for a while. - What? Impressive?

Yes, such awards are not given just like that,” Major Lavrenenko agreed with Andrei Ivanovich.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Khrushchev waved his hand with sad regret. “I don’t understand, I just don’t understand why I can’t get a major because of this stupid certification.”

After all, it tests your knowledge as an officer, and not your personal courage, which, apparently, you are not lacking in.

What are you getting at? - Khrushchev asked suspiciously.

Personal courage is not the only virtue in battle,” Fyodor Dmitrievich threw up his hands. “At least that’s what His Imperial Majesty teaches us.”

“Oh, you’re talking about this,” Andrei Ivanovich grimaced. “To them,” Khrushchev pointed his finger upward, “it seems that galloping ahead of a detachment and leading it into battle is not the sacred duty of an officer.” That I should be doing something else, hiding behind my people. What kind of soldier will follow me if I hide behind him, afraid to expose my head to enemy bullets and sabers?

That’s right, my dear Andrei Ivanovich, personal courage is very important. But a spoon, as they say, is the way to dinner. - Lavrenenko thought for a few seconds, then grinned. - Here's the thing. After all, I am now studying in absentia at regular advanced training courses at the Moscow Imperial Military Engineering Academy and have learned a lot of interesting things.

Are you preparing for certification to become a colonel?

Yes. This is a difficult stage, but if I pass it, the road to the ranks of general will open for me.

“We make some kind of bookish generals,” Khrushchev chuckled.

Not without this,” Lavrenenko smiled at the joke. - So, you see, the higher the officer’s rank, the further he should be from danger. Here is a sergeant or lieutenant - yes, they jump on the front line and go into hand-to-hand combat. They lead the fighters forward. They inspire by example. But the general won’t run ahead of his division? Agree, Andrei Ivanovich, that this looks stupid.

Perhaps.

So it turns out that even lieutenants should no longer run ahead, waving a revolver or saber, but control their people. Even lieutenants,” Fyodor Dmitrievich repeated. - Moreover, the commands are not “Come with me!”, but the distribution of tasks between sergeants and corporals. The first link goes there, does this and that. The second squad takes up defensive positions in that sector. And so on. At the same time, if possible, do not enter into battle yourself, but turn your head and see what is happening in order to quickly respond to changes in the combat situation.

You have some cowardly officers coming out.

This is how we are taught to fight at the academy, putting personnel management at the forefront, and not the desire to personally shoot a rifle or add a few more hacked enemies to our account. Believe it or not, already as a major there is so much paperwork that your head is spinning. I'm currently serving at regimental headquarters.

That’s it,” Andrei Ivanovich smiled. - And I think what’s wrong with what you’re saying. It seems that a battalion commander should not think like that.

How a battalion commander should think, I think, is better seen by the certification commission,” Fyodor Dmitrievich returned the rudeness. “His Imperial Majesty decreed to fight like this and think like this, that’s why they dance.” Or do you think that his new teaching on war turned out to be unsuitable?

Certainly! Usual stupidity!

Aren't you afraid to talk about the Emperor like that?

You are an officer, not a market woman, why should I be afraid? - Khrushchev asked defiantly.

Continue.

I think that Alexander is simply a very lucky man who took advantage of the situation and achieved military success more by cunning than by military art. Well, an officer can’t sit in the rear and pull the strings! Personal courage, training and example are the basis of Russian military skill. If you are a cavalryman, then please lead the attack personally, and not watch it from afar. You are the father of your soldiers, whom you lead. Is not it?

So. But that is the level of management of junior command staff and non-commissioned officers. You understand, dear Andrei Ivanovich, that, being at the forefront of an attack, even at the head of a battalion in a modern battle, you cannot control it. They gave the order to move there and that was it. And no one knows what’s going on there on the flanks. Especially if you advance in a new way, in loose formation, flexibly controlling companies and platoons, and not, as before, moving in a battalion box to enemy positions. The war has changed. She's changed too much.

So what has changed in her? - Khrushchev asked skeptically.

That’s it,” Lavrenenko smiled. - We can say that the war of the times of Napoleon Bonaparte and now are two big differences. Remember - seventy years ago, a dashing attack by cuirassiers could decide the outcome of the battle. Now it is doomed to failure due to the destructiveness of small arms and artillery fire. You can't even imagine how sad it is for me to realize this.

Come on! You were with me in this God-damned Asian campaign. I saw with my own eyes the decisive successes of light cavalry attacks with white weapons on these bandits.

And I took part in them. But this is not indicative. They are natives, practically devoid of good weapons and discipline. If your reiters were in their place, we would simply be shot. And they had nothing to shoot with. And with weapons, everything is very sad - not everyone even has sabers, and those who have them cannot really use them. After all, you should know that we were strictly forbidden to carry out attacks with white weapons on our own initiative at the initial stage of the campaign. And then, when they knocked out almost all the experienced fighters, they went ahead. Not earlier. Yesterday's shepherd with a saber does not become a warrior. Especially considering the fact that they have virtually no training system for these militias.

That's how it is, but...

What's the "but"? Place a German Landwehr regiment there, armed with normal rifles, and that’s it. We would wash ourselves in blood. Much has been written about this based on the experience of the military campaigns of 1871 and 1872. In the old fashioned way, we can only fight with undisciplined and untrained savages, deprived of normal weapons. That's all.

Fyodor Dmitrievich, I think you are exaggerating.

“Not at all,” Lavrenenko snapped. - I have been convinced of this for several years now. That’s why I’m sitting at the headquarters job. This is my foundation for leaving for another branch of the military. The cavalry does not and will not have a future. The past cannot be returned. Yes, no one will abolish it, but its role in the war, the further it goes, the more it will decline. Already now, in the combat schedules of regular army corps, it is assigned the role of combat guards and auxiliary patrols. And combat formations larger than a squadron are available almost exclusively only in our beloved cavalry corps.

And where are you going?

To the engineering sapper troops.

What?! - Khrushchev was sincerely surprised. - The cavalryman will go build bridges and dig trenches?!

Why not? For a year now I have been subscribing to the magazines “Modelist-Constructor” and “Technology for the Youth” [The magazines “Modelist-Constructor” and “Technology for the Youth” were established by the Emperor’s decree dated July 1, 1873 and generally correspond to the topics conceived during their initial creation in the USSR .] and, I must admit, I found a lot of interesting things in them. And the engineering units are now very intensively equipped with modern technology.

Interlude

On June 9, 1881, Fyodor Dmitrievich Lavrenenko was selected to command the 1st cuirassier battalion deployed near Orel. This was the first mechanized military unit in the world, although it was top secret, which is why it was named in such a strange way.

Andrei Ivanovich Khrushchev had died shortly before during another skirmish on the Russian-Chinese border. His unparalleled courage during the counterattack made it possible to throw the entrenched gang from its defensive lines and flee to the territory of the National Republic of China. He did not wait for the summoned artillery battery to approach, relying on his brave prowess and sharp saber. Although the locked gang could not escape from their positions and did not want to get in front of bullets, the situation was stalemate. And after this attack, less than a third of the fighters remained from his squadron of reiters. If Andrei Ivanovich had waited a couple of hours, keeping the gang locked up, then the approaching battery would have quickly and swiftly mowed it down with shrapnel. But he didn't wait. Why - no one could answer this question. Maybe he wasn’t smart enough, or maybe he just wanted to get a new military award. In any case, the act was unreasonable - the gang was missed and people were lost. Of course, such things were not written in the newspaper, but because of such an outburst by Captain Khrushchev, the personnel of the entire first cavalry corps were “heated.” The lessons of the new war were taught at great cost to the officers of the old school. And for some, it was not given at all. They were buried like that, unbroken by the spirit of the new war.