NORMAL FLIGHT
Yatskov Sergey Ye
The driver of an electric locomotive depot Ilyich Moscow railway, Hero of Socialist Labor
Station Vyazma detained departure.
On schedule passenger train No. 194 Kaliningrad-Moscow, thirteen cars, fifty-eight axles, total weight 900 tons, had to move away from the platform vyazminskogo in 19.23, but the time came, and gave the signal for departure, and his voice rasped on duty in the dynamics of the clock, warning that the train departs, and the citizens of mourners have to check to see whether there are any tickets departing from them, but there was burning unforgiving red, sprinkled a fine autumn rain, the wind blew down the platform, the wet pavement a sharp swell, and the top of the window, the assistant thought that locomotive stands on the banks of the river and the terms are broken up and floating ship lights.
- However, for whatever reason, they are detained, said the Yatskov and took his stiff-arm with kontrollera. Time's up!
The assistant did not answer. The assistant stood in his place, staring hard into the dark windshield, excision of the rain. Uniform cap he had pulled over his eyes, and the shadow of the canopy covered the upper part of the face, causing his lips and chin seemed to be very gentle as a girl.
In the spring of twenty-three assistant, he had to serve in the army, missile parts, was a sergeant, had encouragement from his command and returned to the citizen, had finished school, locomotive drivers, so it can be said to have had some experience, but still, especially in the evening, in an uneven electric light, Yatskov found myself on the fact that looking at the assistant, as a child. And it is especially touching and annoying at the same time haircut. Well this is just right girl!
- Volodya, 'he said once,' you would have his mane sostrig. Still on the railroad, in the strict organization you serve. And somehow unaesthetic ... You're a machinist, not a typist.
The assistant smiled and said non-obvious:
- Everything comes at times, he said, and goes the same way.
So understand that he wanted to say?
- You are only in your head does not vbey that I've come to find fault.
- What are you, Uncle Sergei.
- That's good.
On the day when they had to Kaliningrad 194th of Vyazma to Moscow, arrival time 23.24, they have already made a trip: from Moscow conducted a 27-ypassazhirsky, Vyazma breath for two hours and now, by filing a locomotive of a train, waiting for green, and green was not, and the clock on the white scale speedometers hard knock for lost time.
- Yes they are there after all! Ask what delay. Time!
- There is a request!, Has reported
Remember the puzzle of our textbooks? "From point A to point B. .." We fought over it and never - is not it? -Never thought about, how they are real. And how real people who devote their lives, her every day and hour, the solution of this problem. As in the one school, the response of the beads:
so many hours and minutes. Place in real time - then solved the problem: the answer, then come down! ... Only a few of the many. Solving problem of vitality, Sergey Ye Yatskov complicate it so that the actual hours and minutes will certainly include hundreds of thousands of tons of • • 'delivered over the plan of cargo and thousands of kilowatts of energy saved. Assistant and picked up the radio.
The administration was given in 19.28. Suddenly, in front of the green light flashed and sparkled with green wet track. Yatskov gently stronul train quivered arrows ammeters, traction engines take the load, and electric, picking up speed, drove, drove to Moscow.
Five minutes is, in general, do not delay. But, as an experienced driver, any debt tends to accumulate.
In a familiar way for five minutes you can always catch up, but as practice dictates, the driver was right terms: sometimes, and mostly at the critical moment, the circumstances did not add up for some reason, as we would like, five minutes, and easily converted into seven , then ten, and there seemed to ratchet breaks, and the wheel of time goes into reverse ... Ten E-peas, twenty, half an hour ...
Once he's just catching up and almost went into a graph something there for about three minutes left and just as suddenly, he was given a yellow, and he did not understand, he felt that now would be red, and if it will brake at a traffic light, then space is no longer stronetsya because behind four thousand tons, a cargo train with cement and concrete girders, and has a heavy way is on the rise. We'll have to reserve call for help: another locomotive. He was then an icy frost proshibla from head to toe, and an assistant sniffed.
- Nothing, 'said my uncle, Sergei. In a car full poryadochek. Break through at low speed just right. And broke.
- But could it be otherwise, is strictly Yatskov. said, should take into account the effect of inertia. This train is pulled!
- What are you, Sergey Ye, surprise-helper-your-it experience. I have, and there was no doubt.
- Well, are you complimented me. And cut down on your nose, the first duty of the driver-profile way to know. Otherwise the economy will not be the same plan, and of respect for you.
According to schedule the first stop made in the Tumanovo. Two minutes. Arriving at 19.50, departure at 19.52.
In the autumn of 19.50 dark. And then there's the weather from the middle of the day was cloudy, the forests along the road were in sad silence of the autumn. Noisy restless winds, and yellow building stations in Tumanov, similar to the old homestead, on the columns and stucco cornices floated out of the darkness, like a vision and a symbol of comfort and warmth. I wanted to lie down, close your eyes, arms spread out, and somehow reminded of a distant station Saburovo, snow, frost and grandmother Ustinov, wrapped in a woolen shawl. He and my grandmother went to Moscow to see her mother. He was six years old, and the yard was a thirty-third year. First Five-Year Plan.
- The duty gives the administration! -Reported to the assistant.
- Signal ...
Sergey Ye, touching the train, I thought that on the stretch of Tumanovo before Gagarin's just make up for five minutes, but here it is, the unexpected: in the train, someone pulled the emergency brake! Something happened there, the passenger did not have time to sit there and grandmother Granny did not have time to get off, or accidentally touched the handle of a suitcase.
Short stop and back off. Other goods, different task, but the decision should be clear as ever: to spend, and this flight with a constant-Yatskovskiy - the addition of ...
But the train, barely stronuvshis, stood up in his tracks, and hissing of compressed air was pulled out of the brake line.
- Here we are, 'he said in the hearts-they always do, when you do not get lucky.
- It is not midnight, 'replied the assistant, and shook his posh hair.
Five minutes is so little! But then they turn into seven minutes. And it does not depend on you, you are faced with a fact. And you need to catch up. Responsible for the sins of others. What is important is the final result. This occupation-machinist. And trogane - this extra energy. Most do not need it!
The first machinists are proud to call themselves mechanics. In oiled jackets, caps in the cross-hammers on the black band, they were sitting in their booths locomotive, leaning out of windows to the waist, as the hosts. The hosts of time and space, remove the steel rails. Pieces of elastic steam locomotive flying down the embankment. And everything else was subordinated to the rhythm of the locomotive breath, and it seemed that life is only life itself, and even a locomotive.
They are in the village people did Ivankovo ground. Drivers were not. Sowed rye and barley, apples are grown-antonovka extraordinary, almost sweet perfume, and the nearest railway station had to go and ride the broken dirt road riding half a day.
His father, he does not remember. His father died in his youth. It was his father twenty-three, as his assistant, and that snakes for many years, he can not escape the feeling that the older the father. The mother and the village did not go, leaned in Moscow for the ball, the second gas processing plant that Shabolovka, first lived on koechke, and then allocated to it in Kozhukhovo living space in the barracks, and ordered a mother to her son and his grandmother Ustinov.
It was then in the thirty-third at the station Saburovo it the first time and saw a real locomotive. Black, in lights, in a pair. Lord, What a beauty! The song was before the war, "Oh, what a wonderful picture, when the engine is racing on the rails!" All right! In Japan, where he visited with the trade union delegation, the evening newspaper reporter, a tired man in a neat suit nemnuschemsya, asked him when it came to the decision to become a machinist?
The easiest way to get rid of it was a joke. Or call any date. But they sat in a glass hotel on the twentieth floor, filled with cold air conditioning, colored lights in the bottom of the rushing stream of traffic, and he almost began to talk about his childhood, but then I realized that the Japanese so that's just not understand it, and said distinctly , so that the interpreter was not mistaken: "My grandmother took me to look at the engines ..." Why did he say that? It's funny. But the reporter perked up, nodded, and his narrow eyes blazed friendly glow, "Oh, locomotives, it's already history, Yatskov-san."
Helper locomotives can not remember. Assistant to the child goes to Moscow by train, because I was born in Moscow and with the birth home and villa area near Polushkino.
- Sergey Ye, I-say - I remember the train, which opened the door themselves - passengers. Do you remember?
Well, you, Vova, very adult. In May, seventy-seven, Sergei Ye for performing routine, five-year job was awarded the title Hero of Socialist Labor, and in their custody Ilyich estimated that in excess of the plan year, it moved 117,000 tons of cargo and important economic saved 20,000 kilowatts of electricity, all same twenty-seven years on the railroad, he was two and a half million miles, and this several times to the moon and back if you put the rails and give a contact network.
What did he drove! And cement, and trucks and tractors ... The turbines drove, beef, live horses, canned food, oil, toys, bricks, newsprint ... It seems that there is no such thing in human everyday life, it is not delivered for all his twenty-seven years. The departure time. Arrival time. Travel time ... He teaches his students the skill. A driver's skill is primarily thrift. Master's approach. Hen it grain by grain, and the driver, seems to be the little things.
- The railroad no-whose Melo, says assistant.
- Well done! Something began to think!
Locomotive traffic light burned green. The rain had stopped. Counter was "nine", but the passenger-nine steps. Was to test the connection.
- 194 First, as you hear me?
- I hear you well, 'replied the assistant, on-train your order. Have a good trip. I give you a call.
- Call accepted. Happy arrival in the capital of our country. In general, the strict regulations to wish a good journey and speak words that have no bearing on the case, is not provided. But if the person with whom you speak, is in flight, and every moment you are irresistibly alienated from each other, but a thin thread connects your radio, it is impossible to tear! The engineer is always difficult. He has a train, the same "nine", in the rain spray swept by, the passengers behind him, children, clothes and responsibility, is not measured by thousands of tons, and human destiny, and how can you not tell him the good word. Farewell, comrades!
- Is that you, Vova, talk properly, 'said Yatskov.-nice people. Nothing is so cheap and nothing is prized so much as a courtesy!
- Who said that?
- Who will not say exactly, but a man-headed. Next we Gagarin?
- Yes. At 20.12, 'replied the assistant, and, politely alluding to the fact that they are late, added-on schedule.
They were late for seven minutes and arrive at the Gagarin "on schedule" could not, because they take just seven minutes on a stretch of Tumanovo before Gagarin's difficult. But two minutes he had conquered. And it was nice. Five minutes is still not seven. And if no one tore a stop-cock. It is believed that the day easier for the engineer. In the dark time to train harder. The eyes are tired, and nervous system in the higher voltage, but for some reason it always liked night flights. Young was gay ...
- Vova, not going to get married?
- You say, Uncle Sergei ...-embarrassed assistant.
- And what? It's time to you. The driver must be a married man, or what to you respect?
In the race it was written to be a resident of rural, working in the field, breathe country air, fragrant herbs hails, and forget that he would train, swept past the station in the dim Saburovo fat coal from the pipe to the wheels, lights and a couple as a fabulous monster . But my mother was working in Moscow. Moscow he liked, and Kozhukhovsky friends all the boys were drawn to the technique. And how else, when the country was the slogan: "Technique is everything!" He wanted to be a driver, pilot, pilot-ordenonostsem, the title of this he liked very much, but fate decreed that the labor he began his work at the Tambov region, on the farm named "March 8". Was World War II, all Ivankov pozabirali men to the front and he was from Moscow to his grandmother came to visit and just hit the tractor brigade wheel tractor "Fordson-Putilovets" tractor.
He talked about his tractor assistant, assistant laughed.
- And what's so funny? Sergey Ye-offended.
- Wonderful! Snorted, Volodya. He had not seen these tractors. Is that in the museum.
At night flights somehow better remembered. When the machine order and everything is going well according to plan, you start to think, or is it cluttered with years of memories, like a tree stump mushrooms, and you need to share, put all the younger comrade, and check again that all you have been through.
No, he does not complain about destiny. He worked as a tractor driver. Raised the plowing and sowing, and threshing, and forty-four in January, took his uncle, my mother's brother, Ivan, too, Yatskov, and took to himself, as we now say, in a friendly family of railway workers in a tunnel - the recovery team.
Uncle was a man famous, already a hero of labor, his portraits were printed in newspapers and on the radio about labor exploits led them to the group. Sergey wanted to be the same. They rebuilt the bridges in the Crimea, clearing tunnels Novorossiisk. The works were many, and the nephew of the chief became a driver on a trolley.
- And what in the trolley on your engine was Uncle Sergei?
- Gazovsky.
- Forces of eighty?
- Less doubled. Look, Vova, a fox!
- Oh, you!-Gasp assistant. Fox stood on the tracks, turning them a sharp snout, her eyes reflecting the light of course spotlights the first-
religion, as the two katofota for travel the turnpike.
- Beauty ...
Lisa shivered, and wag its tail, rushed to the side.
- Hunter's hard to see, said the assistant.
- You have not a hunter. That's when you buy a gun ...
- So to pay and buy.
- Well, then. I take with me?
- What a speech!
Gone Uvarovka, then Koloch, famous places. From left to left field of Borodino, and green with a white station building Borodino flashed in the lights. In Mozhaysk they were 21.17, right on schedule. Three minutes later gave them the green. They entered into the schedule, and as a matter of spirits rose. Sergey Ye took from his briefcase thermos of tea gulped. He said cheerfully:
Worse, there is no wait and catch up. Well, Little Johnny, look at the typewriter, on which we go.
There! Assistant straightened his cap with both hands, and emerged from the cockpit.
Now they were going to Moscow, just as it should. Counter train whistles greeted them, and they answered them in kind.
- 194, say the number of your electric?-Requested manager.
- 910.
- You understand. Have a good trip.
Rushed to meet the freight trains. Tank with gasoline, a platform of container, went to the west train, laden with all the ZIL trucks, swept the 29th passenger Moscow-Kaliningrad - the train company "Amber", and yellow cars in the spotlight in fact seemed to be amber.
And there went chalet, near Moscow, space Dorokhovo, Tuchkovo ... Most counter-flashed the train, went Kubinka, and when the lights of the crossing, the assistant said:
- Name of your move. Monument Yatskov machinist who ...
It was in the sixty-ninth year. He led a "sixteenth" Berlin-Moscow. He took it in Vyazma and also catching up, there was a delay of thirty minutes, and has also entered into the schedule. It was the beginning of autumn. The forests were still green, and the day was bright. And suddenly he saw that move in the middle of the path is a big yellow and red bus. The windows glisten in the sun. On the ways of crossing watchman was bustling. The driver sat in his place and, apparently, wanted to start the engine and the bus passengers watched from their seats on the train coming and showing your fingers, and did not understand what is about to be trouble.
He pulled the emergency valve. Red thin handle, sealed lead seal. For the first time in my life. How many times have heard, read, taught that it should be. But most do not have to. And then there was no time to think. The rate was about one hundred kilometers. The train jerked, but he did not feel the jolt. In cars, perhaps sprinkled with tables, dishes, someone knock. Roared the signals, the sand under the wheels went, down the pantograph, and cut down engines, deprived of power, but the train was still going by inertia wheels rattled, but he pulled over the brake lever. And he saw flying towards the eyes of the people on the bus. Curiosity gave way to astonishment, and suddenly, with horror. Why are they rushing train did not stop? Do not see the driver? People here!
He stopped five meters from the bus. Everything happened very quickly. The driver was still trying to make zaglohshy motor.
They jumped down from the assistant. The wind rustled the roadside trees. Silence rang wire. It smelled of autumn warmth. Frightened out of the bus passengers. With someone became ill. A woman was crying and clutching to her child. The bus was pushed out of the way. "One, two, heave!-Commander Sergei Ye, Nava, guys, I have a schedule ..."
- I have not seen, to justify the driver, shaking plechami.-stalled on the tracks. Well, that's stalled and all. I thought the second strontium.
- You're a fool, man, but happy, 'said Yatskov. What else can I say?-Judge you have to ...
For this move, Sergey Ye Yatskov was awarded the title "Honorary railroad."
Star of the Hero of the voyage, he does not wear as is, and every time they drive up to the Cuban move, Volodya must somehow makes it clear that he knows the history of this and respect the skills of his mentor. And this, whatever you say, the teacher is nice.
For Kubinka they got into the fog. Not that soon became quite white-white, but it sailed towards the white stripes, and Sergey Ye got excited. And as always, each flight will present anything but. No one, so different. In this sense, there is no scheduled flights, each unusual.
One of his deputies for Sergei Zhukovsky had to act. a candy factory. In the Moscow Soviet on-a member of the Standing Committee on Labour and life of women, maternal and child health.
And the commission has worked to a candy factory, and then went out to them and the Komsomol girl said that on behalf of the Youth is pleased to welcome Sergei Zhukovsky, and she would like to stress that they saved per year of electricity to the factory can run an entire city block and bake so much there thousands of cakes. Well, thanks for the selfless and noble work ...
Sergey Ye embarrassed. First, because there is no ignoble work, and dedication - it's too grand a word. What is he, an astronaut, or what? It just drives the train. Freight and passenger. 243 kilometers of its journey. From Moscow to Vyazma and back to Moscow. And he teaches his students without much solemnity, simply and clearly, that success is made up of small components of the savings-and tons of kilowatts of reclaimed minutes and seconds ...
They walked with their time. Without delay. Passengers have already put on his coat, pulled out the suitcases, train radio unit broadcast cheerful music.
In Yatskov in a good mood.
- Vova, he said assistant, arrive in the capital ...
They slowly rolled up to the platform. To the right stretched the plane illuminated luggage compartment. On the left was "twenty-first" passenger Moscow-Prague, and the mourners waved their hands. It was, as always. Flowers, bright eyes. The porters carried luggage on trolleys. Everything, as always, and everything else every time.
- Vova, please take a look at the clock.
- 23.24, pomoschnik.-reported-as in the pharmacy!
- How to rail-corrected Sergey Ye sleeve and wiped his forehead.
