I had to spend a few weeks (in a train, cabin, hotel) with a very interesting person. Twice Hero of the Soviet Union, one of the most popular and beloved in the army of military commanders (I never heard of him any reviews, except very good), Colonel General Ivan
Mikhailovich Chistyakov performed before the military and their families, and the artists then gave a concert.

On the stage, Ivan Mikhailovich, mostly, repeated what was written about him in books, and he often told me stories that then could not be printed, and, probably, it was not recommended to tell.
And if I have already, I confess, forgotten: from what platform and at what time of the morning the one or the other offensive began (you can see in the book), then all these stories I remember, as if I hear the voice of the storyteller again:

“The president of the court brings me a paper: ‘Sign up, Ivan.
by Mikhailovich! Tomorrow at 9 p.m. we want to shoot the new recruiter here in front of the building.” Why should I shoot? He fled from the battlefield.
To all the other cowards.”

And I could not tolerate those shootings, I will tell you. I understand that this milkshaker yesterday held his mother’s shirt, never traveling further than the neighboring village. And then he was suddenly caught, brought to the front, without having trained properly, and immediately under fire.

I also (even in my book about it) ran from the battlefield when I was young. And not once until the uncle (I was under his leadership) promised to shoot with his own hands – and I was sure he would shoot. That’s a shame! Explosions, fire, people around you are killing, they scream: with broken stomachs, with broken legs-hands... It seems that there was no thought in the head about escape, and the legs carry you themselves, and it goes on and on.
How difficult it is to cope with your fear! Enormous will is needed, self-control, and they only come with experience. People are not born with them.

And this boy will be killed tomorrow at 9 p.m. at the wheel of my KP before the strike.

I ask the chairman of the tribunal: “Have you understood all the details of his military crime?” Running – that is, shooting, what else can we talk about? It is clear.”

I say, “But I don’t know from your paper: where did he flee? Running to the right, running to the left? Or maybe he ran to the enemy and wanted to captivate others for himself! Well, put your tribunal in the car and follow me – we’ll go to this part to settle.”

And in order to travel to this part, it was necessary to cross the pit, which was shot by the German. Well, we have already adapted and knew that if the speed changes sharply, the German artillery will not be able to place the projectile correctly: one usually breaks behind you, the other ahead, and the third does not have time - you have already jumped through.

So we jumped out of the buffer and forward. Bach, this time too. We stopped in the slope, we waited – and the tribunal is not ours, they do not go and they do not go.
I ask the driver, "Did you see that the German passed by?" - "True," he says, "the two gaps were not even on the road!"

We waited for half an hour and went on by ourselves. Well, I found out all there, about the new recruiter: ran back, shouted “Mommy”, sowed panic, etc. They went back.

We come to KP. “What happened to the court?” I asked. “Nothing happened,” they say. “They are drinking tea in the dining room.”

I call the commander of the commanding squadron and order that the tribunal be delivered to me immediately. In five minutes, they bring this three to me. Another cake is roasted. I ask, “Where have you gone? Why didn’t they follow me as I ordered?”
“Then the shelling began, Comrade Colonel, so we are back.
and turned away.”

I say to them, “The shelling has begun, so the fight has begun. You dropped me in this battle, shaken me. Who knows the laws of war? What is the reason for leaving the commander in battle and fleeing from the battlefield?

They mad. They silence. I order the commander of the commanding squadron: “Take away the weapons of these deserters! Under the reinforced guard, and tomorrow at 9 p.m. shoot all these three in front of the army!” Give up weapons!
to the exit!”

At 3 o’clock in the night, Khrushchev (member of the Military Council of our front) calls. by Ivan
Mikhailovich, are you really going to shoot the court tomorrow? Do not do that. They were there to report to Stalin. I’ll send you others tomorrow in return for this tribunal.”

“No, I’m talking to Khrushchev. I don’t need anyone else now!
He laughed and said, “Okay, keep them with you when you want.”

Until the end of the war, I had not received a single death sentence.