Many of my brothers, military correspondents, write today about the South Ossetian events of August 2008. I sincerely congratulate all of them on that great victory. But I was categorically not there.
However, this date and that August were a turning point for my personal destiny too.
True, fate overtook me quite suddenly from a completely different flank of this bright and swift war. Namely, in Abkhazia. Few people today remember that even for this small but truly brave republic, the times of war then came, as a result of which it - no, did not gain sovereignty and independence (they were conquered by the Abkhazians themselves back in 1993, after the catastrophic Georgian defeat in the battle for Sukhum), but received the long-awaited international recognition (represented first by Russia, and then by a number of other states), which the proud and friendly people dreamed of for no less than 15 years.
So, the circumstances developed in such a way that I, together with my classmates at the university, just in this hot period rested in Abkhazia.
And to be honest, there was not even a smell of military plans in my life at that time.
I had just graduated from the Faculty of Philology and saw myself as an exceptionally subtle and aesthetic poet. As a last resort, he is a skilled observer of the latest cultural phenomena. Wars and the fate of the Motherland did not bother me much. All this seemed unworthy of the attention of a small-minded aesthete. And now, quite by chance, really by God's providence, I am brought to the beautiful Land of the Soul (Apsny - the name of the country is translated from Abkhazian that way), where for the first time I see anxious and armed people, the cruiser Moskva, batters passing through the streets and mountain roads, I am faced with such a romantic concept as a curfew.
The main events for the Abkhaz during the war on 08.08.08 unfolded in the Kodori Gorge, the upper part of which historically belonged to Apsny, but was partially occupied by the Georgians. As such, there were no assaults and violent clashes, the enemy army fled on its own after a couple of warning and frankly Russian air strikes. But the movement, as they say, in a small republic with a population of a little more than 200 thousand people, was noble. It so happened that I became friends with my classmate's grandfather (Marianna is local, her family had just fled to my native Smolensk from the last war, in the early 1990s), who allowed me to live in his small hut in Escher. This is the native village of the real South Caucasian Che Guevara, the hero and intellectual Vladislav Ardzinba. Here, in the 1990s, the line of confrontation between the Abkhaz militia and the Georgian army ran along the Gumista River for more than a year. Everything in it was connected with the war, which for the inhabitants of Apsny, regardless of nationality, is sacred.
Grandfather On a Bicycle - this was the nickname of my classmate's grandfather - told me a lot about the events that, of course, he personally experienced.
Taken together, his stories, the current near-combat atmosphere and the absolutely Marquez-like magical mythology of Abkhazia led me to the fact that I had a dream of becoming a military correspondent. And I can say that I took my first step towards this there.
The war, to my disappointment at the time (what a young idiot! I would be happy now if we had won as soon as possible), was over, but in August 2008, I was accepted into my reporter family smelling of real gunpowder by the legendary Abkhaz journalist Ruslan Khashig, who ran a small but really cool TV channel - Abaza-TV. So, whatever one may say, my personal path to military service began from there.
I spent four years in Abkhazia - and then it went on.
And I am extremely grateful to fate for directing me on this path. I am grateful to the country and my teachers from there, who in their own way made me who I am.
So 08.08.08 was my dawn.
And this is now my story too!
Once again, congratulations to everyone! I am sure that we will achieve it here - in the NWO!
The author's point of view may not coincide with the position of the editorial board.