Volodya Yakut fact or fiction. The forgotten "black sniper" of the Chechen war. Volodya-Yakut. “Black sniper” of the Chechen war Volodya-Yakut

18-year-old Yakut Volodya from a distant deer camp was a sable hunter. It had to happen that I came to Yakutsk for salt and ammunition, and accidentally saw in the dining room on TV piles of corpses of Russian soldiers on the streets of Grozny, smoking tanks and some words about “Dudaev’s snipers.” This got into Volodya’s head, so much so that the hunter returned to the camp, took his earned money, and sold the little gold he had found. He took his grandfather’s rifle and all the cartridges, put the icon of St. Nicholas the Saint in his bosom and went to fight.

It’s better not to remember how I was driving, how I sat in the bullpen, how many times my rifle was taken away. But, nevertheless, a month later the Yakut Volodya arrived in Grozny.
Volodya had only heard about one general who was regularly fighting in Chechnya, and he began to look for him in the February mudslide. Finally, the Yakut was lucky and reached the headquarters of General Rokhlin.

The only document besides his passport was a handwritten certificate from the military commissar stating that Vladimir Kolotov, a hunter by profession, was heading to war, signed by the military commissar. The piece of paper, which had become frayed on the road, had saved his life more than once.

Rokhlin, surprised that someone came to the war of his own free will, ordered the Yakut to be allowed to come to him.
- Excuse me, please, are you that General Rokhlya? – Volodya asked respectfully.
“Yes, I’m Rokhlin,” answered the tired general, who peered inquisitively at a short man dressed in a frayed padded jacket, with a backpack and a rifle on his back.
– I was told that you arrived at the war on your own. For what purpose, Kolotov?
“I saw on TV how the Chechens were killing our people with snipers. I can't stand this, Comrade General. It's a shame, though. So I came to bring them down. You don't need money, you don't need anything. I, Comrade General Rokhlya, will go hunting at night myself. Let them show me the place where they will put the cartridges and food, and I will do the rest myself. If I get tired, I’ll come back in a week, sleep in the warmth for a day, and go again. You don’t need a walkie-talkie or anything like that... it’s hard.

Surprised, Rokhlin nodded his head.
- Take, Volodya, at least a new SVDashka. Give him a rifle!
“No need, Comrade General, I’m going out into the field with my scythe.” Just give me some ammunition, I only have 30 left now...

So Volodya began his war, the sniper war.

He slept for a day in the headquarters cabins, despite the mine shelling and terrible artillery fire. I took ammunition, food, water and went on my first “hunt”. They forgot about him at headquarters. Only reconnaissance regularly brought cartridges, food and, most importantly, water to the appointed place every three days. Each time I was convinced that the parcel had disappeared.

The first person to remember Volodya at the headquarters meeting was the “interceptor” radio operator.
– Lev Yakovlevich, the “Czechs” are in panic on the radio. They say that the Russians, that is, we, have a certain black sniper who works at night, boldly walks through their territory and shamelessly cuts down their personnel. Maskhadov even put a price of 30 thousand dollars on his head. His handwriting is like this – this fellow hits Chechens right in the eye. Why only by sight - the dog knows him...

And then the staff remembered about the Yakut Volodya.
“He regularly takes food and ammunition from the cache,” the intelligence chief reported.
“And so we didn’t exchange a word with him, we didn’t even see him even once.” Well, how did he leave you on the other side...

One way or another, the report noted that our snipers also give their snipers a light. Because Volodin’s work gave such results - from 16 to 30 people were killed by the fisherman with a shot in the eye.

The Chechens figured out that the federals had a commercial hunter on Minutka Square. And since the main events of those terrible days took place in this square, a whole detachment of Chechen volunteers came out to catch the sniper.

Then, in February 1995, at Minutka, thanks to Rokhlin’s cunning plan, our troops had already reduced almost three quarters of the personnel of the so-called “Abkhaz” battalion of Shamil Basayev. Volodya’s Yakut carbine also played a significant role here. Basayev promised a golden Chechen star to anyone who would bring the body of a Russian sniper. But the nights passed in unsuccessful searches. Five volunteers walked along the front line in search of Volodya’s “beds” and placed tripwires wherever he could appear in direct view of their positions. However, this was a time when groups from both sides broke through the enemy’s defenses and penetrated deeply into its territory. Sometimes it was so deep that there was no longer any chance to break out to our own people. But Volodya slept during the day under the roofs and in the basements of houses. The corpses of Chechens – the night “work” of a sniper – were buried the next day.

Then, tired of losing 20 people every night, Basayev called from the reserves in the mountains a master of his craft, a teacher from a camp for training young shooters, the Arab sniper Abubakar. Volodya and Abubakar could not help but meet in a night battle, such are the laws of sniper warfare.

And they met two weeks later. More precisely, Abubakar hit Volodya with a drill rifle. A powerful bullet, which once killed Soviet paratroopers right through in Afghanistan at a distance of one and a half kilometers, pierced the padded jacket and slightly caught the arm, just below the shoulder. Volodya, feeling the rush of a hot wave of oozing blood, realized that the hunt had finally begun for him.

The buildings on the opposite side of the square, or rather their ruins, merged into a single line in Volodya's optics. “What flashed, the optics?” thought the hunter, and he knew cases when a sable saw a sight flashing in the sun and went away. The place he chose was located under the roof of a five-story residential building. Snipers always like to be on top so they can see everything. And he lay under the roof - under a sheet of old tin, he was not wet by the wet snow rain, which kept coming and then stopping.

Abubakar tracked down Volodya only on the fifth night - he tracked him down by his pants. The fact is that the Yakuts had ordinary, cotton pants. This is an American camouflage, which was often worn by Chechens, impregnated with a special composition, in which the uniform was indistinctly visible in night vision devices, and the domestic uniform glowed with a bright light green light. So Abubakar “identified” the Yakut into the powerful night optics of his “Bur”, custom-made by English gunsmiths back in the 70s.

One bullet was enough, Volodya rolled out from under the roof and fell painfully with his back on the steps of the stairs. “The main thing is that I didn’t break the rifle,” thought the sniper.
- Well, that means a duel, yes, Mr. Chechen sniper! - the Yakut said to himself mentally without emotion.

Volodya specifically stopped shredding the “Chechen order.” The neat row of 200s with his sniper “autograph” on the eye stopped. “Let them believe that I was killed,” Volodya decided.

All he did was look out for where the enemy sniper got to him from.
Two days later, already in the afternoon, he found Abubakar’s “bed”. He also lay under the roof, under a half-bent roofing sheet on the other side of the square. Volodya would not have noticed him if the Arab sniper had not been betrayed by a bad habit - he was smoking marijuana. Once every two hours, Volodya caught a light bluish haze through his optics, rising above the roofing sheet and immediately being carried away by the wind.

“So I found you, abrek! You can't live without drugs! Good..." the Yakut hunter thought triumphantly; he did not know that he was dealing with an Arab sniper who had passed through both Abkhazia and Karabakh. But Volodya did not want to kill him just like that, by shooting through the roofing sheet. This was not the case with snipers, and even less so with fur hunters.
“Okay, you smoke while lying down, but you’ll have to get up to go to the toilet,” Volodya decided calmly and began to wait.

Only three days later did he figure out that Abubakar was crawling out from under the leaf to the right side, and not to the left, quickly did the job and returned to the “bed”. To “get” the enemy, Volodya had to change his position at night. He couldn't do anything anew, because any new roofing sheet would immediately give away his new location. But Volodya found two fallen logs from the rafters with a piece of tin a little to the right, about fifty meters from his point. The place was excellent for shooting, but very inconvenient for a “bed”. For two more days Volodya looked out for the sniper, but he did not show up. Volodya had already decided that the enemy had left for good, when the next morning he suddenly saw that he had “opened up.” Three seconds of aiming with a slight exhalation, and the bullet hit the target. Abubakar was struck on the spot in the right eye. For some reason, against the impact of the bullet, he fell flat from the roof onto the street. A large, greasy stain of blood spread across the mud in the square of Dudayev’s palace, where an Arab sniper was killed on the spot by one hunter’s bullet.

“Well, I got you,” Volodya thought without any enthusiasm or joy. He realized that he had to continue his fight, showing his characteristic style. To prove that he is alive and that the enemy did not kill him a few days ago.

Volodya peered through his optics at the motionless body of the slain enemy. Nearby he saw a “Bur”, which he did not recognize, since he had never seen such rifles before. In a word, a hunter from the deep taiga!

And then he was surprised: the Chechens began to crawl out into the open to take the sniper’s body. Volodya took aim. Three people came out and bent over the body.
“Let them pick you up and carry you, then I’ll start shooting!” - Volodya triumphed.

The three of the Chechens actually lifted the body. Three shots were fired. Three bodies fell on top of the dead Abubakar.

Four more Chechen volunteers jumped out of the ruins and, throwing away the bodies of their comrades, tried to pull out the sniper. A Russian machine gun started working from the side, but the bursts fell a little higher, without causing harm to the hunched Chechens.

Four more shots rang out, almost merging into one. Four more corpses had already formed a pile.

Volodya killed 16 militants that morning. He did not know that Basayev had given the order to get the Arab’s body at all costs before it began to get dark. He had to be sent to the mountains to be buried there before sunrise, as an important and respectable Mujahid.

A day later, Volodya returned to Rokhlin’s headquarters. The general immediately received him as a dear guest. The news of the duel between two snipers had already spread throughout the army.
- Well, how are you, Volodya, tired? Do you want to go home?

Volodya warmed his hands at the stove.
“That’s it, Comrade General, I’ve done my job, it’s time to go home.” Spring work at the camp begins. The military commissar only released me for two months. My two younger brothers worked for me all this time. It's time to know...

Rokhlin nodded his head in understanding.
- Take a good rifle, my chief of staff will draw up the documents...
- Why, I have my grandfather’s. – Volodya lovingly hugged the old carbine.

The general did not dare to ask the question for a long time. But curiosity got the better of me.
– How many enemies did you defeat, did you count? They say more than a hundred... Chechens were talking to each other.

Volodya lowered his eyes.
– 362 militants, Comrade General.
- Well, go home, now we can handle it ourselves...
- Comrade General, if anything happens, call me again, I’ll sort out the work and come a second time!

Volodya’s face showed frank concern for the entire Russian Army.
- By God, I’ll come!

The Order of Courage found Volodya Kolotov six months later. On this occasion, the entire collective farm celebrated, and the military commissar allowed the sniper to go to Yakutsk to buy new boots - the old ones had become worn out in Chechnya. A hunter stepped on some pieces of iron.

On the day when the whole country learned about the death of General Lev Rokhlin, Volodya also heard about what happened on the radio. He drank alcohol on the premises for three days. He was found drunk in a temporary hut by other hunters returning from hunting. Volodya kept repeating drunk:
- It’s okay, Comrade General Rokhlya, if necessary we will come, just tell me...

After Vladimir Kolotov left for his homeland, scum in officer uniform sold his information to Chechen terrorists, who he was, where he came from, where he went, etc. The Yakut Sniper inflicted too many losses on the evil spirits.

Vladimir was killed by a shot from 9 mm. pistol in his yard while he was chopping wood. The criminal case was never solved.

The first Chechen war. How it all started.
***
For the first time I heard the legend of Volodya the sniper, or as he was also called - Yakut (and the nickname is so textured that it even migrated to the famous television series about those days). They told it in different ways, along with legends about the Eternal Tank, the Death Girl and other army folklore. Moreover, the most amazing thing is that in the story about Volodya the sniper, an almost letter-by-word similarity was surprisingly traced with the story of the great Zaitsev, who killed Hans, a major, the head of the Berlin sniper school in Stalingrad. To be honest, at that time I perceived it as... well, let’s say, like folklore - at a rest stop - and it was believed and not believed. Then there was a lot of things, as, indeed, in any war, which you won’t believe, but turns out to be TRUE. Life is generally more complex and unexpected than any fiction.

Later, in 2003-2004, one of my friends and comrades told me that he personally knew this guy, and that indeed HE WAS. Whether there was that same duel with Abubakar, and whether the Czechs actually had such a super sniper, to be honest, I don’t know, they had enough serious snipers, and especially during the Air Campaign. And there were serious weapons, including South African SSVs, and porridge (including prototypes of the B-94, which were just entering pre-series, the spirits already had, and with numbers in the first hundred - Pakhomych will not let you lie.
How they ended up with them is a separate story, but nevertheless, the Czechs had such trunks. And they themselves made semi-handicraft SCVs near Grozny.)

Volodya the Yakut really worked alone, he worked exactly as described - by eye. And the rifle he had was exactly the one described - an old Mosin three-line rifle of pre-revolutionary production, also with a faceted breech and a long barrel - an infantry model of 1891.

The real name of Volodya-Yakut is Vladimir Maksimovich Kolotov, originally from the village of Iengra in Yakutia. However, he himself is not a Yakut, but an Evenk.

At the end of the First Campaign, he was patched up in the hospital, and since he was officially a nobody and there was no way to call him, he simply went home.

By the way, his combat score is most likely not exaggerated but understated... Moreover, no one kept an accurate account, and the sniper himself did not particularly brag about it.

Dmitry Travin

Rokhlin, Lev Yakovlevich
From December 1, 1994 to February 1995, he headed the 8th Guards Army Corps in Chechnya. Under his leadership, a number of areas of Grozny were captured, including the presidential palace. On January 17, 1995, generals Lev Rokhlin and Ivan Babichev were appointed by the military command to contact the Chechen field commanders with the aim of a ceasefire.

Murder of a General
On the night of July 2-3, 1998, he was found murdered at his own dacha in the village of Klokovo, Naro-Fominsk district, Moscow region. According to the official version, his wife, Tamara Rokhlina, shot at the sleeping Rokhlin; the reason was given as a family quarrel.

In November 2000, the Naro-Fominsk City Court found Tamara Rokhlina guilty of the premeditated murder of her husband. In 2005, Tamara Rokhlina appealed to the ECHR, complaining about the long period of pre-trial detention and the delay in the trial. The complaint was upheld and monetary compensation was awarded (EUR 8,000). After a new consideration of the case, on November 29, 2005, the Naro-Fominsk City Court found Rokhlina guilty of murdering her husband for the second time and sentenced her to four years of suspended imprisonment, also assigning her a probationary period of 2.5 years.

During the investigation of the murder, three charred corpses were found in a forested area near the crime scene. According to the official version, their death occurred shortly before the assassination of the general, and has nothing to do with him. However, many of Rokhlin’s associates believed that they were real murderers who were eliminated by the Kremlin’s special services, “covering their tracks”

For his participation in the Chechen campaign, he was nominated for the highest honorary title of Hero of the Russian Federation, but refused to accept this title, stating that he “has no moral right to receive this award for military operations on the territory of his own country.”

Story
Historical figures, Army history

Volodya Kolosov. Yakut sniper. Call sign "Yakut". (hero of the first Chechen war)

Volodya did not have a walkie-talkie, there were no new “bells and whistles” in the form of dry alcohol, drinking straws and other junk. There was not even unloading; he did not take the bulletproof vest himself. Volodya had only his grandfather’s old hunting carbine with captured German optics, 30 rounds of ammunition, a flask of water and cookies in his quilted jacket pocket. Yes, the hat with ear flaps was shabby. The boots, however, were good; after last year’s fishing, he bought them at a fair in Yakutsk, right on the rafting trip to Lena from some visiting traders.

This is how he fought for the third day.

A sable hunter, an 18-year-old Yakut from a distant reindeer camp. It had to happen that I came to Yakutsk for salt and ammunition, and accidentally saw in the dining room on TV piles of corpses of Russian soldiers on the streets of Grozny, smoking tanks and some words about “Dudaev’s snipers.” This got into Volodya’s head, so much so that the hunter returned to the camp, took his earned money, and sold the little gold he had found. He took his grandfather’s rifle and all the cartridges, put the icon of St. Nicholas the Saint in his bosom and went to fight the Yakuts for the Russian cause.

It’s better not to remember how I was driving, how I sat in the bullpen three times, how many times my rifle was taken away. But, nevertheless, a month later the Yakut Volodya arrived in Grozny.

Volodya had only heard about one general who was regularly fighting in Chechnya, and he began to look for him in the February mudslide. Finally, the Yakut was lucky and reached the headquarters of General Rokhlin.

the photo is off topic - but the ceremonial portrait of the general is not ice at all

Rokhlin, surprised that someone came to the war of his own free will, ordered the Yakut to be allowed to come to him.

Volodya, squinting at the dim lights blinking from the generator, causing his slanted eyes to blur even more, like a bear, walked sideways into the basement of the old building, which temporarily housed the general’s headquarters.

- Excuse me, please, are you that General Rokhlya? – Volodya asked respectfully.

“Yes, I’m Rokhlin,” answered the tired general, who peered inquisitively at a short man dressed in a frayed padded jacket, with a backpack and a rifle on his back.

- Would you like some tea, hunter?

- Thank you, Comrade General. I haven't had a hot drink for three days. I won't refuse.

Volodya took his iron mug out of his backpack and handed it to the general. Rokhlin himself poured him tea to the brim.

– I was told that you arrived at the war on your own. For what purpose, Kolotov?

“I saw on TV how the Chechens were killing our people with snipers. I can't stand this, Comrade General. It's a shame, though. So I came to bring them down. You don't need money, you don't need anything. I, Comrade General Rokhlya, will go hunting at night myself. Let them show me the place where they will put the cartridges and food, and I will do the rest myself. If I get tired, I’ll come back in a week, sleep in the warmth for a day, and go again. You don't need a walkie-talkie or anything like that... it's hard.

Surprised, Rokhlin nodded his head.

- Take, Volodya, at least a new SVDashka. Give him a rifle!

“No need, Comrade General, I’m going out into the field with my scythe.” Just give me some ammo, I only have 30 left now...

So Volodya began his war, the sniper war.

The first person to remember Volodya at the headquarters meeting was the “interceptor” radio operator.

– Lev Yakovlevich, the “Czechs” are in panic on the radio. They say that the Russians, that is, we, have a certain black sniper who works at night, boldly walks through their territory and shamelessly cuts down their personnel. Maskhadov even put a price of 30 thousand dollars on his head. His handwriting is like this – this fellow hits Chechens right in the eye. Why only by sight - the dog knows him...

And then the staff remembered about the Yakut Volodya.

“He regularly takes food and ammunition from the cache,” the intelligence chief reported.

“And so we didn’t exchange a word with him, we didn’t even see him even once.” Well, how did he leave you on the other side...

One way or another, the report noted that our snipers also give their snipers a light. Because Volodin’s work gave such results - from 16 to 30 people per night were killed by the fisherman with a shot in the eye.

The Chechens realized that a Russian fisherman had appeared on Minutka Square. And since all the events of those terrible days took place in this square, a whole detachment of Chechen volunteers came out to catch the sniper.

Then, in February 1995, at Minutka, the “federals,” thanks to Rokhlin’s cunning plan, had already crushed Shamil Basayev’s “Abkhaz” battalion by almost three-quarters of its personnel. Volodya’s Yakut carbine also played a significant role here.

Basayev promised a golden Chechen star to the one who brought the corpse of the Russian sniper. But the nights passed in unsuccessful searches. Five volunteers walked along the front line in search of Volodya’s “beds”, placing tripwires wherever he could appear in the direct line of sight of their positions. However, this was a time when groups from both sides broke through the enemy’s defenses and penetrated deeply into its territory. Sometimes it was so deep that there was no longer any chance to break out to our own people. But Volodya slept during the day under the roofs and in the basements of houses. The corpses of the Chechens - the night "work" of a sniper - were buried the next day.

Then, tired of losing 20 people every night, Basayev called from the reserves in the mountains a master of his craft, a teacher from the camp for training young shooters, the Arab sniper Abubakar. Volodya and Abubakar could not help but meet in a night battle, such are the laws of sniper warfare.

The buildings on the opposite side of the square, or rather their ruins, merged into a single line in Volodya's optics.

“What sparkled, the optics?” thought the hunter, and he knew cases when a sable saw a sight glinting in the sun and went away. The place he chose was located under the roof of a five-story residential building.

Snipers always like to be on top so they can see everything. And he lay under the roof - under a sheet of old tin, he was not wet by the wet snow rain, which kept coming and then stopping.

Abubakar tracked down Volodya only on the fifth night - he tracked him down by his pants. The fact is that the Yakuts had ordinary, cotton pants. This is an American camouflage worn by the Chechens, impregnated with a special composition, in which the uniform was invisible in night vision devices, and the domestic one glowed with a bright light green light. So Abubakar “identified” the Yakut into the powerful night optics of his “Bur”, custom-made by English gunsmiths back in the 70s.

One bullet was enough, Volodya rolled out from under the roof and fell painfully with his back on the steps of the stairs. “The main thing is that I didn’t break the rifle,” thought the sniper.

- Well, that means a duel, yes, Mr. Chechen sniper! - the Yakut said to himself mentally without emotion.

Volodya specifically stopped shredding the “Chechen order.”

The neat row of 200s with his sniper “autograph” on the eye stopped.

“Let them believe that I was killed,” Volodya decided.

All he did was look out for where the enemy sniper got to him from.

Two days later, already during the day, he found Abubakar’s “bed”. He also lay under the roof, under a half-bent roofing sheet on the other side of the square. Volodya would not have noticed him if the Arab sniper had not been betrayed by a bad habit - he was smoking marijuana. Once every two hours, Volodya caught in his optics a light bluish haze that rose above the roofing sheet and was immediately carried away by the wind.

“So I found you, abrek! You can’t live without drugs! Good...” the Yakut hunter thought triumphantly; he did not know that he was dealing with an Arab sniper who had passed through both Abkhazia and Karabakh. But Volodya did not want to kill him just like that, by shooting through the roofing sheet. This was not the case with snipers, and even less so with fur hunters.

“Okay, you smoke while lying down, but you’ll have to get up to go to the toilet,” Volodya decided calmly and began to wait.

But Volodya found two fallen logs from the rafters with a piece of tin a little to the right, about fifty meters from his point. The place was excellent for shooting, but very inconvenient for a “bed”. For two more days Volodya looked out for the sniper, but he did not show up. Volodya had already decided that the enemy had left for good, when the next morning he suddenly saw that he had “opened up”.

Three seconds of aiming with a slight exhalation, and the bullet hit the target.

Http://www.sovsekretno.ru/arti...

Abubakar was struck on the spot in the right eye. For some reason, against the impact of the bullet, he fell flat from the roof onto the street. A large, greasy stain of blood spread across the mud in the square of Dudayev’s palace, where an Arab sniper was killed on the spot by one hunter’s bullet.

And then he was surprised: the Chechens began to crawl out into the open to take the sniper’s body. Volodya took aim. Three people came out and bent over the body.

“Let them pick you up and carry you, then I’ll start shooting!” - Volodya triumphed.

The three Chechens actually lifted the body. Three shots were fired. Three bodies fell on top of the dead Abubakar.

“Oh, mabuta infantry! You’re just wasting ammunition...” thought Volodya.

Four more shots sounded, almost merging into one. Four more corpses had already formed a pile.

A day later, Volodya returned to Rokhlin’s headquarters. The general immediately received him as a dear guest. The news of the duel between two snipers had already spread throughout the army.

- Well, how are you, Volodya, tired? Do you want to go home?

Volodya warmed his hands at the stove.

“That’s it, Comrade General, I’ve done my job, it’s time to go home.” Spring work at the camp begins. The military commissar only released me for two months. My two younger brothers worked for me all this time. It's time to know...

Rokhlin nodded his head in understanding.

- Take a good rifle, my chief of staff will draw up the documents...

- Why, I have my grandfather’s. – Volodya lovingly hugged the old carbine.

* Volodya had an upper one - with an old-style faceted breech with a long barrel, an “infantry rifle” of 1891

The general did not dare to ask the question for a long time. But curiosity got the better of me.

– How many enemies did you defeat, did you count? They say that more than a hundred... Chechens were talking to each other.

Volodya lowered his eyes.

– 362 people, Comrade General. Rokhlin, silently, patted the Yakut on the shoulder.

- Go home, we can handle it ourselves now...

- Comrade General, if anything happens, call me again, I’ll sort out the work and come a second time!

Volodya’s face showed frank concern for the entire Russian Army.

- By God, I’ll come!

The Order of Courage found Volodya Kolotov six months later. On this occasion, the entire collective farm celebrated, and the military commissar allowed the sniper to go to Yakutsk to buy new boots - the old ones had worn out in Chechnya. A hunter stepped on some pieces of iron.

- It’s okay, Comrade General Rokhlya, if necessary we will come, just tell me...

He was sobered up in a nearby stream, but from then on Volodya no longer wore his Order of Courage in public.

The basis is taken here:

Everyone else is blatantly copy-pasting, adding their own.

Http://russiahousenews.info/ou...
Moreover, the most amazing thing is that in the story about Volodya the sniper, an almost letter-by-word similarity was surprisingly traced with the story of the great Zaitsev, who killed Hans, a major, the head of the Berlin sniper school in Stalingrad. To be honest, I then perceived it as... well, let's say, like folklore - at a rest stop - and it was believed and not believed.

Then there was a lot of things, as, indeed, in any war, which you won’t believe, but turns out to be TRUE. Life is generally more complex and unexpected than any fiction.

Later, in 2003-2004, one of my friends and comrades told me that he personally knew this guy, and that indeed HE WAS. Whether there was that same duel with Abubakar, and whether the Czechs actually had such a super-sniper, to be honest, I don’t know, they had enough serious snipers, and especially in the First Campaign. And there were serious weapons, including South African SSVs, and cereals (including prototypes of the B-94, which were just entering pre-series, the spirits already had, and with numbers in the first hundred - Pakhomych will not let you lie.

How they ended up with them is a separate story, but nevertheless, the Czechs had such trunks. And they themselves made semi-handicraft SCVs near Grozny.)

Volodya the Yakut really worked alone, he worked exactly as described - by eye. And the rifle he had was exactly the one described - an old Mosin three-line rifle of pre-revolutionary production, with a faceted breech and a long barrel - an infantry model of 1891.

The real name of Volodya-Yakut is Vladimir Maksimovich Kolotov, originally from the village of Iengra in Yakutia. However, he himself is not a Yakut, but an Evenk.

During the First Chechen War, they talk about Volodya Yakut, an Evenk sniper from the taiga who killed 362 militants in two months. Where has modern Vasily Zaitsev gone? [C-BLOCK]

Road to Grozny

At the height of the First Chechen War, during fierce battles for the city of Grozny, the commander of the 8th Guards Corps, General Lev Rokhlin, was informed that some strange guy was asking to come to his headquarters, and even with an old rifle. The strange guy turned out to be the Evenk Vladimir Maksimovich Kolotov from the distant Yakut Iengra. He was wearing a hunting sheepskin coat, and with him a Mosin system carbine of the 1891 model, a German sniper scope from the Second World War, a passport and a certificate from the military registration and enlistment office. [C-BLOCK]

Vladimir said that he got to Grozny on his own. Once he saw on TV footage from Chechnya: a destroyed city, killed Russian soldiers. Then he took the Mosin carbine, with which his father, and before that his grandfather, went to the taiga to hunt fur-bearing animals, and went to the 8th Corps to the “good general.” Evenk said that on the road he encountered considerable difficulties: they tried to detain him and return him home, but everywhere he was helped out by a certificate from the military commissar stating that Vladimir was going to war as a volunteer.

General Rokhlin was very surprised by Kolotov’s story: in 1995 it was not easy to find a person who, of his own free will, would go to the hell of Grozny. The shooter received the position of sniper and the standard Dragunov rifle, but the Evenk refused, saying that he would be more comfortable with his own Mosinka.

Minute Square

It is known that snipers in modern warfare do not act alone: usually a whole group “works”, assisted by spotter-observers. This format was not suitable for Kolotov; he went specifically to hunt for militants. Evenk only asked that military scouts leave food, water and rifle cartridges for him once a day in an agreed hiding place, and he himself began to prepare ambushes “for the beast.”

Russian radio operators had the opportunity to regularly listen to militants' radio communications. From them, the command learned what a terrible force the eighteen-year-old hunter from Yakutia had become: on Minutka Square he “filmed” fifteen, twenty, or even thirty militants every day. The sniper had a characteristic “handwriting” - all the victims were killed with a precise hit in the eye, as if the hunter wanted to keep valuable animal fur unharmed. The successes of Volodya Yakut, as he was called in the federal troops, deprived the Chechen commanders of sleep, because the shooter hit his targets even at night. [C-BLOCK]

They say that valuable rewards were placed on Volodya’s head: Aslan Maskhadov promised the man who killed the Evenk thirty thousand dollars, and Shamil Basayev - the star of the Hero of Chechnya. A whole squad of militants was chasing the shooter, who were looking for the hunter’s “rookeries” and setting tripwires. Despite the promised generous prizes, Volodya Yakut invariably won the game, leaving all the hunters for his head with a neat bullet hole in his eye.

In order to destroy the successful Russian, the Arab master Abubakar was called from the rebel rifle training camp. He became famous as a good sniper back in Afghanistan, where he ended up on instructions from Pakistani intelligence. Now Abubakar had to hunt for Volodya Yakut in the ruins of Grozny with a powerful rifle, custom-made back in the 1970s. Soon the Arab managed to track down the Russian shooter. Volodya was wounded, but not fatally: the bullet hit his arm. Evenk decided to temporarily stop his hunt for militants so that the rebel commanders would believe that he had been killed.

While Volodya’s “mosinka” was silent, he diligently tracked down Abubakar. The master of camouflage and street fighting was let down by a small weakness: back in the 1980s, the Arab shooter became addicted to light smoking drugs, and now, even in cold Grozny, he could not deny himself this pleasure. It was by the light haze of the rolled-up cigarette that Vladimir Kolotov determined where Abubakr’s “rookery” was located. When he had to leave his cover for a while, Kolotov, with constant accuracy, killed the enemy with a hit in the eye. [C-BLOCK]

To save the body of the mercenary, the rebel commanders sent several combat groups, but all sixteen militants were killed outright from the famous Kolotovo carbine. Thus ended the duel, which in its intensity and surroundings was reminiscent of the confrontation between Vasily Zaitsev and SS Standartenführer Heinz Thorwald in Stalingrad at the end of 1942.

Path of the Legend

The day after the duel with Abubakar, Volodya Yakut visited General Rokhlin. There he said that the two-month period for which the military commissar had released him had expired, and now he needed to return home. The general, who had already heard about Volodya’s victories, asked how many “animals” the hunter had destroyed. Evenk replied that in less than two months he managed to kill 362 militants.

This figure ends the main part of the legend about Volodya Yakut. Urban legends, as they are commonly called, had to appear during this difficult time, when it was difficult to figure out who was right and who was wrong. There is no evidence that the Evenki sniper Vladimir Maksimovich Kolotov actually existed: the photographs show other people, and in reports and reports the sniper does not appear either under his real name or under his “code” name. The legend is also continued by the fact that Volodya Kolotov, who returned to his homeland, continued to engage in fur farming and had a hard time with the death of General Rokhlin, who was killed in July 1998, and refused to wear the Order of Courage. [C-BLOCK]

The story about Volodya Yakut usually ends in the early 2000s, when he was killed at his fishery by unknown persons who allegedly bought information about his whereabouts from the Russian special services. Others argue that Vladimir Kolotov did not become a victim of hired killers, but received a reception from President Dmitry Medvedev in 2009, presenting the head of state with gifts from his people. In support of this version, they even cite personnel from the delegation from Yakutia, however, this can hardly be considered reliable evidence.

Much in the legend about Volodya Yakut may raise doubts: for example, how did a man armed with a combat rifle get from Yakutia to Grozny, and then ask for leave from the active army and calmly return home? And the details of his confrontation with Abubakar are very reminiscent of the struggle between Zaitsev and Torvald in Stalingrad.

Whether Volodya Yakut really existed or not, where he disappeared to is difficult to say with certainty. One thing is certain: in 1994-1995 there were people who were ready to courageously defend the tranquility of their country. The legend Volodya Yakut tells about all of them.

18-year-old Yakut Volodya from a distant deer camp was a hunter - a sable hunter. It had to happen that I came to Yakutsk for salt and ammunition, and accidentally saw in the dining room on TV piles of corpses of Russian soldiers on the streets of Grozny, smoking tanks and some words about “Dudaev’s Snipers.” This got into Volodya’s head, so much so that the hunter returned to the camp, took his earned money, and sold the little gold he had found.

. He took his grandfather’s rifle and all the cartridges, put the icon of Nicholas the Saint in his bosom and went to fight.

It’s better not to remember how I was driving, how I sat in the bullpen, how many times my rifle was taken away. But, nevertheless, a month later the Yakut Volodya arrived in Grozny.
Volodya had only heard about one general who was fighting regularly, and he began to look for him in the February thaw. Finally, the Yakut was lucky and reached the headquarters of General Rokhlin.

Rokhlin, surprised that someone came to the war of his own free will, ordered the Yakut to be allowed to come to him.
- Excuse me, please, are you that weakling general? - Volodya asked respectfully.
“Yes, I’m Rokhlin,” answered the tired general, who peered inquisitively at a short man dressed in a frayed padded jacket, with a backpack and a rifle on his back.
- I was told that you came to the war on your own. For what purpose, stabs?
“I saw on TV how terrorists were killing ours with snipers. I can't stand this, Comrade General. It's a shame, though. So I came to bring them down. You don't need money, you don't need anything. I, Comrade General Rokhlya, will go hunting at night myself. Let them show me the place where they will put the cartridges and food, and I will do the rest myself. If I get tired, I’ll come back in a week, sleep in the warmth for a day and go again. You don’t need a walkie-talkie or anything like that... it’s hard.

Surprised, Rokhlin nodded his head.
- Take, Volodya, at least a new stamp. Give him a rifle!
- No need, Comrade General, I’m going out into the field with my scythe. Just give me some ammunition, I only have 30 left now...

So Volodya began his war, the sniper war.

He slept for a day in the headquarters cabins, despite the mine shelling and terrible artillery fire. I took ammunition, food, water and went on the first “Hunt”. They forgot about him at headquarters. Only reconnaissance regularly brought cartridges, food and, most importantly, water to the appointed place every three days. Each time I was convinced that the parcel had disappeared.

The first person to remember Volodya at the headquarters meeting was the “interceptor” radio operator.
- Lev Yakovlevich, the enemy is panicking on the radio. They say that we have a certain black sniper who works at night, boldly walks through their territory and shamelessly cuts down their personnel. Maskhadov even put a price of 30 thousand dollars on his head. His handwriting is like this - this fellow hits bandits right in the eye. Why only by sight - the dog knows him...

The terrorists realized that the feds had a hunter in the square for a moment. And since the main events of those terrible days took place in this square, a whole detachment of volunteers came out to catch the sniper.

Then, in February 1995, in a minute, thanks to Rokhlin’s cunning plan, our troops had already reduced almost three-quarters of the so-called personnel. "Abkhazian" battalion of Shamil Basayev. Volodya’s Yakut carbine also played a significant role here. Basayev promised a golden Chechen star to anyone who would bring the body of a Russian sniper. But the nights passed in unsuccessful searches. Five volunteers walked along the front line in search of Volodya’s “Beds”, placing tripwires wherever he could appear in direct visibility of their positions. However, this was a time when groups from both sides broke through the enemy’s defenses and penetrated deeply into its territory. Sometimes it was so deep that there was no longer any chance to break out to our own people. But Volodya slept during the day under the roofs and in the basements of houses. The corpses of the terrorists - the sniper's night "Work" - were buried the next day.

Then, tired of losing 20 people every night, Basayev called from the reserves in the mountains a master of his craft, a teacher from a camp for training young shooters, and a sniper - Arab Abubakar. Volodya and Abubakar could not help but meet in a night battle, such are the laws of sniper warfare.

The buildings on the opposite side of the square, or rather their ruins, merged into a single line in Volodya's optics. “What flashed, the optics?” the hunter thought, and he knew cases when a sable saw a sight flashing in the sun and went away. The place he chose was located under the roof of a five-story residential building. Snipers always like to be on top so they can see everything. And he lay under the roof - under a sheet of old tin, the wet snow rain, which kept coming and then stopping, did not wet it.

Abubakar tracked down Volodya only on the fifth night - he tracked him down by his pants. The fact is that the Yakuts had ordinary, cotton pants. This is an American camouflage, which was often worn by terrorists, impregnated with a special composition, in which the uniform was indistinctly visible in night vision devices, and the domestic uniform glowed with a bright light green light. So Abubakar “figured out” the Yakut through the powerful night optics of his “drill,” custom-made by English gunsmiths back in the 70s.

One bullet was enough, Volodya rolled out from under the roof and fell painfully with his back on the steps of the stairs. “The main thing is that I didn’t break the rifle,” thought the sniper.
- Well, that means a duel, yes, Mr. Sniper! - The Yakut said to himself mentally without emotion.

Volodya specifically stopped cutting up terrorists. The neat row of 200s with his sniper "Autograph" on the eye stopped. “Let them believe that I was killed,” Volodya decided.

All he did was look out for where the enemy sniper got to him from.
Two days later, already in the afternoon, he found Abubakar’s “Bed”. He also lay under the roof, under a half-bent roofing sheet on the other side of the square. Volodya would not have noticed him if the Arab sniper had not been betrayed by a bad habit - he was smoking marijuana. Once every two hours, Volodya caught a light bluish haze through his optics, rising above the roofing sheet and immediately being carried away by the wind.

“So I found you! You can’t live without drugs! Well...” the Yakut hunter thought triumphantly; he did not know that he was dealing with an Arab sniper who had passed through both Abkhazia and Karabakh. But Volodya did not want to kill him just like that, by shooting through the roofing sheet. This was not the case with snipers, and even less so with fur hunters.
“Okay, you smoke while lying down, but you’ll have to get up to go to the toilet,” Volodya decided calmly and began to wait.

Only three days later did he figure out that Abubakar was crawling out from under the leaf to the right side, and not to the left, quickly did the job and returned to the “Lezhanka”. In order to “get” the enemy, Volodya had to change his position at night. He couldn't do anything anew, because any new roofing sheet would immediately give away his new location. But Volodya found two fallen logs from the rafters with a piece of tin a little to the right, about fifty meters from his point. The place was excellent for shooting, but very inconvenient for “Lezhanka”. For two more days Volodya looked out for the sniper, but he did not show up. Volodya had already decided that the enemy had left for good, when the next morning he suddenly saw that he had “Opened”. Three seconds of aiming with a slight exhalation, and the bullet hit the target. Abubakar was struck on the spot in the right eye. For some reason, against the impact of the bullet, he fell flat from the roof onto the street. A large, greasy stain of blood spread across the mud in the square of Dudayev’s palace, where an Arab sniper was killed on the spot by one hunter’s bullet.

And then he was surprised: the militants began to crawl out into the open to take the sniper’s body. Volodya took aim. Three people came out and bent over the body.
“Let them pick you up and carry you, then I’ll start shooting!” - Volodya triumphed.

The three of the militants actually lifted the body. Three shots were fired. Three bodies fell on top of the dead Abubakar.

Four more militants jumped out of the ruins and, throwing away the bodies of their comrades, tried to pull out the sniper. A Russian machine gun started working from the side, but the bursts fell a little higher, without causing harm to the hunched over bandits.

Four more shots rang out, almost merging into one. Four more corpses had already formed a pile.

Volodya warmed his hands at the potbelly stove.
- That’s it, Comrade General, I’ve done my job, it’s time to go home. Spring work at the camp begins. The military commissar only released me for two months. My two younger brothers worked for me all this time. It's time and honor... to know.

Rokhlin nodded his head in understanding.
- Take a good rifle, my chief of staff will draw up the documents...
- Why, I have my grandfather’s. - Volodya lovingly hugged the old carbine.

The general did not dare to ask the question for a long time. But curiosity took over.
- How many enemies did you defeat, did you count? They say more than a hundred... militants were talking...

Volodya lowered his eyes.
- 362 militants, Comrade General.
- Well, go home, we can handle it ourselves now...
- Comrade General, if anything happens, call me again, I’ll sort out the work and come a second time!

Volodya’s face showed frank concern for the entire Russian army.
- By God, I’ll come!

The Order of Courage found Volodya Kolotov six months later. On this occasion, the entire collective farm celebrated, and the military commissar allowed the sniper to go to Yakutsk to buy new boots - the old ones had worn out in Grozny. The hunter stepped on some pieces of iron.

On the day when the whole country learned about the death of General Lev Rokhlin, Volodya also heard about what happened on the radio. He drank alcohol on the premises for three days. He was found drunk in a temporary hut by other hunters returning from hunting. Volodya kept repeating drunk:
- It’s okay, Comrade General the weakling, if necessary we will come, just tell me….

Volodya's real name is a Yakut - Vladimir Maksimovich Kolotov, originally from the village of Iengra in Yakutia. However, he himself is not a Yakut, but an Evenk.

At the end of the first campaign, he was patched up in the hospital, and since he was officially a nobody and there was no way to call him, he simply went home.

By the way, his combat score is most likely not exaggerated but understated... especially since no one kept accurate records, and the sniper himself did not particularly brag about it.

After Vladimir Kolotov left for his homeland, the scum in officer's uniform sold his data to the terrorists, who he was, where he was from, where he went, etc. The Yakut sniper inflicted too many losses on the evil spirits. Vladimir was killed by a shot from 9 mm. A pistol in his yard, while he was chopping wood. The criminal case was never solved...

Volodya Yakut Lurk.

Volodya-Yakut is a Russian sniper, the hero of the urban legend of the same name, who became famous for his high performance. A possible full name is Vladimir Maksimovich Kolotov, although in the legend he is called Volodya. By profession, he is a commercial hunter from Yakutia (Yakut or Evenk by nationality, known under the call sign “Yakut”).

According to legend, 18-year-old Vladimir Kolotov arrived at the beginning of the war in Chechnya to meet the generals and expressed his desire to go to Chechnya as a volunteer, providing a passport and a certificate from the military registration and enlistment office. As a weapon, Vladimir chose an old German hunting rifle with an optical sight, refusing a more powerful one and asking the soldiers only to regularly leave him cartridges, food supplies and water in a hiding place. From the subsequent radio intercepts, Russian radio operators learned that Kolotov was operating in Grozny, killing from 16 to 30 people per day, and all those killed had fatal hits to the eye. He promised to award the Order of the ChRI to the one who kills Kolotov, and also offered a monetary reward. However, the volunteers, despite searching for the sniper, died from his shots.

Soon, Basayev called for help from the training camp of the Arab mercenary Abubakar, an instructor for training shooters who participated in the war. During one of the night skirmishes, Abubakar, armed with a British rifle, wounded Kolotov in the arm, tracking him down (allegedly the Russian camouflage was visible in the NVG, but the Chechen one was not, since the Chechens impregnated it with some kind of secret composition). The wounded Kolotov decided to mislead the Chechens about his death and stop shooting the militants, simultaneously starting a search for Abubakar. A week later, Vladimir destroyed Abubakar not far from there and then killed 16 more people who were trying to take away the Arab’s body and bury him before sunset. The next day he returned to headquarters and reported to Rokhlin that he had to return home on time (the military commissar only released him for two months). In a conversation with Rokhlin, Kolotov mentioned 362 militants he killed. Six months after returning to his homeland in Yakutia, Kolotov was awarded the Order of Courage.

According to the “official” version, the legend ends with a mention of the message about the murder of Rokhlin and the subsequent binge of Kolotov, from which he hardly emerged, even temporarily losing his mind, but since then he has refused to wear the Order of Courage. There are also two other endings: according to one version, Kolotov was killed in 2000 by an unknown person (probably a former Chechen militant) to whom someone sold Kolotov’s personal information; according to another, he remained to work as a hunter-commercial and allegedly received a meeting with the President of the Russian Federation in 2009.

Mentions

The story entitled “Volodya the Sniper” was published in the collection of stories “I am a Russian Warrior” by Alexei Voronin in March 1995, and in September 2011 it was published in the newspaper “Orthodox Cross”. The urban legend was popular in the 1990s among the military and took its place in the list of “horror stories” and other works of army folklore, but it began to actively spread on the Internet in 2011 and 2012, continuing to be published in subsequent years on various sites.

Facts favor fiction

The fact of the existence of Vladimir Kolotov, who actually fought in Chechnya (as well as the existence of the Arab mercenary Abubakar) is not confirmed by any sources (including photographs depicting completely different people), and no documents have been found on Kolotov’s awarding the Order of Courage. There are photographs on the Internet described as a fragment of a meeting between Vladimir Kolotov and Russian President Dmitry Medvedev in 2009, but such photographs depict a resident of Yakutia, Vladimir Maksimov; Another photograph shows a representative of one of the peoples of Siberia holding an SVD rifle, who turned out to be not Vladimir Kolotov, but a certain “Batokha from Buryatia, from.” The story is considered fictional, but at the same time Kolotov personifies the collective image of real Russian soldiers who participated in the Chechen War. The supposed prototypes of Kolotov could be such snipers of the Great Patriotic War as, and even.

Bloggers and journalists found many inconsistencies in the urban legend: in particular, it was not indicated who Kolotov really was (he is called both a reindeer herder, a commercial hunter, and a prospector); on what grounds did Kolotov, with just one official document from the military registration and enlistment office, manage to get to a meeting with Rokhlin; where did the 18-year-old soldier get such performance; what is this composition that Chechen militants impregnated their camouflage with in order to prevent it from being seen in NVGs; why Kolotov abandoned a modern rifle in favor of an old hunting carbine (hunters and soldiers from small nations of Russia in such situations never abandoned modern equipment). Moreover, the “duel” of Kolotov and Abubakar is suspiciously similar to the duel between Vasily Zaitsev and Heinz Thorwald (the notorious “Major König”), and Abubakar himself might not have existed at all: according to one version, the name was taken in honor of one of the camps where they trained subversive saboteurs; on the other - in honor of the CIA agent, Chechen-born Abubakar.

Hello friends!

Today the story will be about the famous knife of the northern peoples of the Sakha Republic.

Yakut knife

The history of the Yakut knife is hidden in the darkness of centuries; there is no written or any significant evidence of the emergence of this interesting and original tool. No explanation has been preserved why its shape is not similar to the shape of similar knives or tools of other peoples.

Archaeological excavations carried out on the territory of modern Yakutia show that samples of knives recovered from early burial grounds and sites of ancient people have an undoubted resemblance to Yakut knives. This is truly an ancient knife.

What was this Northern knife like?

And it was completely different due to its wide functionality. Yakutsk knives have a very wide range of sizes - from the smallest to the very large. According to the style of production and application, they are divided into 12 varieties. If you do not dive into all the subtleties of these forms, then you can conditionally divide the Yakuts into 3 categories:

Bykhycha is a small knife with a blade length of 8 to 11 cm; such a knife is made for children and women. However, there are a number of tasks that are easier to solve with a knife with a small blade, so it can conditionally be classified as household.

The next category is Bychakh - the most common universal knife, with a blade length from 11 to 17 cm.

In the third category is Yakut called Khotonokh - this guy has a blade length above 17 cm, which makes him a combat weapon. Such things are made quite rarely now, since in our time it is difficult for them to find use.

In the classification of the Yakut knife, the width of the blade also plays a role.

If it is narrow, then it is classified as a tundra knife. This makes it easier to cut something or make a hole in something, which is primarily necessary in tundra conditions.

A knife with a wider blade is called Taiga. This Yakut is intended for cutting trophies or livestock, as well as for processing wood.

According to long-standing traditions, installation of Yakut is done like this:

The blade's shank is set into a birch suveli handle and firmly secured using two wooden wedges without the use of any sealants. And additionally, a tie is made of oxtail on the knife, which, when the additional one dries, tightens the handle. The scabbard is made of wood like the handle and is also covered with oxtail.

By the way, traditionally the sheath is worn on the belt in front, and the blade is placed in it with the cutting edge up.

Another interesting thing is that just a few years ago in Yakutsk, few people were interested in knives, and even among sophisticated knife lovers they were not particularly popular. But at one point, about the same thing happened to them as with spinners - everyone started talking about them.

Okay, everything was a little different)

Over time, these knives began to gain popularity very, very quickly, and today more and more craftsmen are devoting almost all their efforts to the production of just such Yakut knives. About the same thing happened with the NKVD Finns

But nevertheless, let's figure out why this rather strange Yakut knife is so good.

It’s just that this is the knife that the northern peoples invented at one time. And for them it became the main tool of survival; this knife was used for fishing, hunting and in general as a tool for working with wood and for any household tasks. We can say that this is the Yakut vision of a universal knife for bushcraft.

True, at that time such words, of course, did not yet exist.

In general, Yakut is an everyday hard worker

The most interesting and unusual thing about this knife is, of course, the blade - it is asymmetrical, the spine is straight and even, and the blade is sharp. But the Yakut knife is sharpened only on one side.

And here there are some disagreements - as various Internet sources say, the knife is sharpened from the lens side, but the craftsmen who make Yakuts in accordance with ancient traditions explain that it is necessary to sharpen from the fuller side.

First of all, it's much easier. And secondly, if you sharpen the sides of the lens, the sharpening will eventually reach the notch in the blade and the knife will no longer be fully functional.

In any case, the Yakut could easily sharpen itself with any pebble in field conditions - this was undoubtedly a fundamental factor.

On the right side there is a dol.

For left-handed people they made a knife with a fuller on the other side.

It can have a wide variety of shapes; some craftsmen prefer a notch that covers almost the entire area of the blade, leaving a small edge near the butt. And some limit themselves to a small groove that is shifted closer to the handle, this Notch is called Yos.

It is not known for certain why it was made and there are many disputes and hypotheses

According to one version, this knife was inherited from its ancestors made of bone. In a bone cut in half, the filler remained from the bone marrow and was present on all knives made according to this principle.

According to another version, such a dol appeared as a result of the old forging technique used by the northern peoples.

According to the third version, such a debt made it possible to significantly save metal of which there was not so much. And many more versions.

But the main feature of such a knife is that, having a one-sided sharpening, it is incredibly good at planing wood, making planing, skinning animals and other everyday tasks of that time.

And what’s most interesting is that this is perhaps the first knife in which the dol actually served as a bloodstream

When cutting a carcass, due to the large fuller, the contact of the knife with the meat was minimal, which made it possible to work much faster, and the blood falling on the knife flowed down the fuller. How true this is is unknown, but they say that this is exactly what happened.

Among other things, the gutter significantly reduces the weight of the knife, and this was achieved so that a knife that fell into the water would not sink to the bottom

Still, the knife was a very valuable item at that time, which was used for survival every day and I really didn’t want to lose it.

In conclusion, it can be noted that in Yakut families, a child at the age of 5 received his first knife and the mother was not afraid that the child might get hurt. After all, a small wound and a little blood taught the child to be careful and careful, and therefore rational. And the first knife was made specifically for a child’s hand.

This is the real story

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Video Forgotten hero, Volodya Yakut black sniper the Chechen thunderstorm

Rokhlin, surprised that someone came to the war of his own free will, ordered the Yakut to be allowed to come to him.
- Excuse me, please, are you that General Rokhlya? - Volodya asked respectfully.
“Yes, I’m Rokhlin,” answered the tired general, who peered inquisitively at a short man dressed in a frayed padded jacket, with a backpack and a rifle on his back.
- I was told that you came to the war on your own. For what purpose, Kolotov?
- I saw on TV how the Chechens were killing our people with snipers. I can't stand this, Comrade General. It's a shame, though. So I came to bring them down. You don't need money, you don't need anything. I, Comrade General Rokhlya, will go hunting at night myself. Let them show me the place where they will put the cartridges and food, and I will do the rest myself. If I get tired, I’ll come back in a week, sleep in the warmth for a day and go again. You don't need a walkie-talkie or anything like that... it's hard.

Surprised, Rokhlin nodded his head.
- Take, Volodya, at least a new SVDashka. Give him a rifle!
- No need, Comrade General, I’m going out into the field with my scythe. Just give me some ammo, I only have 30 left now...

So Volodya began his war, the sniper war.

The first person to remember Volodya at the headquarters meeting was the “interceptor” radio operator.
- Lev Yakovlevich, the “Czechs” are in panic on the radio. They say that the Russians, that is, we, have a certain black sniper who works at night, boldly walks through their territory and shamelessly cuts down their personnel. Maskhadov even put a price of 30 thousand dollars on his head. His handwriting is like this - this fellow hits Chechens right in the eye. Why only by sight - the dog knows him...

Then, in February 1995, at Minutka, thanks to Rokhlin’s cunning plan, our troops had already reduced almost three-quarters of the personnel of the so-called “Abkhaz” battalion of Shamil Basayev. Volodya’s Yakut carbine also played a significant role here. Basayev promised a golden Chechen star to anyone who would bring the body of a Russian sniper. But the nights passed in unsuccessful searches. Five volunteers walked along the front line in search of Volodya’s “beds”, placing tripwires wherever he could appear in the direct line of sight of their positions. However, this was a time when groups from both sides broke through the enemy’s defenses and penetrated deeply into its territory. Sometimes it was so deep that there was no longer any chance to break out to our own people. But Volodya slept during the day under the roofs and in the basements of houses. The corpses of Chechens - the night "work" of a sniper - were buried the next day.

The buildings on the opposite side of the square, or rather their ruins, merged into a single line in Volodya's optics. “What flashed, the optics?” thought the hunter, and he knew cases when a sable saw a sight glinting in the sun and went away. The place he chose was located under the roof of a five-story residential building. Snipers always like to be on top so they can see everything. And he lay under the roof - under a sheet of old tin, the wet snow rain, which kept coming and then stopping, did not wet it.

Volodya specifically stopped shredding the “Chechen order.” The neat row of 200s with his sniper “autograph” on the eye stopped. “Let them believe that I was killed,” Volodya decided.

The three of the Chechens actually lifted the body. Three shots were fired. Three bodies fell on top of the dead Abubakar.

Four more shots rang out, almost merging into one. Four more corpses had already formed a pile.

Volodya warmed his hands at the stove.
- That’s it, Comrade General, I’ve done my job, it’s time to go home. Spring work at the camp begins. The military commissar only released me for two months. My two younger brothers worked for me all this time. It's time to know...

Rokhlin nodded his head in understanding.
- Take a good rifle, my chief of staff will draw up the documents...
- Why, I have my grandfather’s. - Volodya lovingly hugged the old carbine.

The general did not dare to ask the question for a long time. But curiosity got the better of me.
- How many enemies did you defeat, did you count? They say that more than a hundred... Chechens were talking to each other.

Volodya’s face showed frank concern for the entire Russian Army.
- By God, I’ll come!

Vladimir was killed by a shot from 9 mm. pistol in his yard while he was chopping wood. The criminal case was never solved.

The first Chechen war. How it all started.

***
For the first time I heard the legend of Volodya the sniper, or as he was also called - Yakut (and the nickname is so textured that it even migrated to the famous television series about those days). They told it in different ways, along with legends about the Eternal Tank, the Death Girl and other army folklore. Moreover, the most amazing thing is that in the story about Volodya the sniper, an almost letter-by-word similarity was surprisingly traced with the story of the great Zaitsev, who killed Hans, a major, the head of the Berlin sniper school in Stalingrad. To be honest, I then perceived it as... well, let's say, like folklore - at a rest stop - and it was believed and not believed. Then there was a lot of things, as, indeed, in any war, which you won’t believe, but turns out to be TRUE. Life is generally more complex and unexpected than any fiction.

How they ended up with them is a separate story, but nevertheless, the Czechs had such trunks. And they themselves made semi-handicraft SCVs near Grozny.)

Volodya the Yakut really worked alone, he worked exactly as described - by eye. And the rifle he had was exactly the one described - an old Mosin three-line rifle of pre-revolutionary production, with a faceted breech and a long barrel - an infantry model of 1891.

The real name of Volodya-Yakut is Vladimir Maksimovich Kolotov, originally from the village of Iengra in Yakutia. However, he himself is not a Yakut, but an Evenk.

At the end of the First Campaign, he was patched up in the hospital, and since he was officially a nobody and there was no way to call him, he simply went home.

By the way, his combat score is most likely not exaggerated, but understated... Moreover, no one kept an accurate account, and the sniper himself did not particularly brag about it.

Rokhlin, Lev Yakovlevich

From December 1, 1994 to February 1995, he headed the 8th Guards Army Corps in Chechnya. Under his leadership, a number of areas of Grozny were captured, including the presidential palace. On January 17, 1995, generals Lev Rokhlin and Ivan Babichev were appointed by the military command to contact the Chechen field commanders with the aim of a ceasefire.

Murder of a General

On the night of July 2-3, 1998, he was found murdered at his own dacha in the village of Klokovo, Naro-Fominsk district, Moscow region. According to the official version, his wife, Tamara Rokhlina, shot at the sleeping Rokhlin; the reason was given as a family quarrel.

Volodya Kolosov. Yakut sniper. Call sign "Yakut". (hero of the first Chechen war)

the photo is off topic - but the ceremonial portrait of the general is not ice at all

Volodya Yakut Lurk.

Mentions

Facts favor fiction

Yakut knife

What was this Northern knife like?

In the classification of the Yakut knife, the width of the blade also plays a role.

But nevertheless, let's figure out why this rather strange Yakut knife is so good.

In general, Yakut is an everyday hard worker

First of all, it's much easier. And secondly, if you sharpen the sides of the lens, the sharpening will eventually reach the notch in the blade and the knife will no longer be fully functional.

It is not known for certain why it was made and there are many disputes and hypotheses

And what’s most interesting is that this is perhaps the first knife in which the dol actually served as a bloodstream

This is the real story

Video Forgotten hero, Volodya Yakut black sniper the Chechen thunderstorm

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