Новости Донбасса

See Luhansk ... and not to die. Part 4

See Luhansk ... and not to die. Part 4

I have to say that there are no any global assessment of the situation and social and political analysis in this paper. I was only during one day (24 September 2014) in the city and can not describe the whole picture.

That has happened in June.

In Luhansk, it was already curfew but things were humming. The city had lighting and water supply, mobile communication from MTS run like clockwork, and stores of "ATB" network were going to survive the Egyptian pyramids. Bar "Beer shop" worked around the clock, and nightclubs were not in a hurry to close at 23:00. Jeeps with "LPR" militants pretty damn quick run around the streets and some drunken blighters with machine guns at 12 am freely bought vodka in owl kiosks.

I have a friend Vityok Fedorov. At school, he had a nickname Fedor, but Fedor has grown, technologies evolved for the time, and he became (thanks to his initials) WiFi. Normal guy with a point of view to drink beer, and to help to drag the piano on the 12th floor. Once he walked near the "1st of May" Park about 2 a.m. He was a well-oiled because the city was dangerous and sad, and his young lady had packed her clothes, bited the thumb at him, and hauled ass to her ex-boyfriend.

He walked a long time until he defiantly stopped a separatist patrol with the aim to get on a big beautiful car to the Eastern quarters. Dudes in the car scratched their heads, released a booze breath and took WiFi to engage in "landscape design" on the outskirts of the village of Metalist. Vityok dug trenches for four days, has rubbed his hands in the blood, but they were not in a hurry to let him go home.

About eight so hapless diggers were with him. They slept in dug trenches covered by militants with logs and all sorts of rubbish. And for that no one could not run away, the armored troop-carrier stopped by its one side on the logs. They militants said to piss in a bucket, smoke by turns, and sit quietly.

On the morning of the fifth day, they were awakened by loud explosions. "I thought I'd die there, and you do not have to bury me," - WiFi told me later. In general, the exact blow has killed terrorists, their ATC enchantingly smoked, and the guys decided to leave the place far away on the quiet. They dug a hole and got out to light, but got straight to the warm welcome of guys from a volunteer battalion.

Boys first surprised, then pushed in the face, and then began to familiarize and give to drink tea without sugar. Far and by, they recorded all men in the note-book, looked at the passports (those who had), gave cigarettes, hit in the ass, and said to ride to the four winds.

I do not know where the others, and WiFi got gardens to the village of Kamenny Brod, took the phone at a taxi driver and called me. The man was good: he did not took WiFi to the security service, but took to me. I gave the taxi driver a bottle of ice-cold vodka from the fridge, as the money was gone, and the vodka still was.

WiFi certainly was not a bubbly. Well, he has washed off, shaved, ate, got the vodka from the freezer (where it was still a lot at the time) and told me that sad story. And although he was a fucked rag tag at spring, now he radically changed his outlook. He beknaved his "employers", volume of vodka diminished progressively, and thoughts became more chaotic. We distressed ourselves with desire to go to the army ranks and avenge to pro-Russian cattles, but to be honest, we are such soldiers as the retired ballet girls could be.

Putting heroism until the morning we went to the owl kiosk to buy cigarettes. And then we see the following picture. Two some dudes that look like hereditary yobs were drawing on the fence big letters "LPR", "Crimea is Russia", and "Putin will save us!".

What damn ????

In short, we caught up with them, beaten, seized barrels and went for cigarettes. The boys have promised to railroad us in the security service basements and quickly disappeared.

We went back to my kitchen, drank more fairly and toppled to sleep. In the morning I found in the corridor the bag with barrels and remembered yesterday's adventures. We drank beer as well, switched up our brains and decided to paint over in the evening all filthy pro-Russian propagandist inscriptions in our area. We waited for the evening, drank for courage (that's a given), and went to give the people good.

We have painted out all the inscriptions in the area of Ring Road, soiled our jeans and T-shirts, but were satisfied. We decided to smoke after all, and then there was our fatal failure.

Those two young bastards tracked us down and have called to some familiar rag tags, and they sent a patrol against us. What can I say, they beat us a long time. They have not carried us to the security services (thanks God), finally splashed paint from the barrel (the taste is rare shit) in the face, and promised shot us the next time and went off.

I do not know how we got off so easily (my tooth has been broken), but in the end we went home and continued to drink vodka and "lick our wounds". In the morning everything was aching, my face was badly swollen, and it was terrible out into the street. Hopefully, those minor holers will burn in hell unless have grown yet. WiFi has felt so bummed at all, tanked up to the top, and cried from rage in his sleep.

A week has passed, beatings have gone, the fear receded, and we decided the following. We found in garages bottles with blue and yellow paint, waited 2 a.m., and (this time completely sober) went along the Vostochny district and painted yellow and blue stripes in duo. We had dressed inconspicuously, behaved cautiously, and our mission took place without casualties. The next morning all the inhabitants in the district could see that all the inscriptions such as "LPR" and "Putin, save us" have been crossed by the colors of our Ukrainian flag.

Then, in early summer, you could be only beaten for this. A month has passed, and I actually realized that now for this we would have been shot in sight.

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