Beslan: How was it

September 2, 2004

The road from the airport to Beslan: not a single policeman, not a single armed person - a desert on the entire path. In the city, there is also a feeling of emptiness, on the outskirts everything died out, as if everyone had gathered in front of the recreation center. The building has a huge poster - "Passion of Christ." Nearby is another poster: "Cinema in the dk. The monastery of evil." Who could have thought a couple of days ago what this quiet and rich town would turn into, an unofficial vodka capital of Russia?

Chaos and anger

There are a lot of armed people in the center of the town - both in camouflage (of a different color and cut), and in home vestments, literally in slippers on the barefoot leg. Unshassed men with weapons wanders along the entire periphery of the cordon or pepper away from the square. They have knives on the belt, pistols, hunting rifles, old Army carabiners of the SCS, new and shabby machine guns, sometimes I see the characteristic outlines of a sniper rifle - SVD. These are militias. Simply put, the locals who delivered weapons from the basements and from the attics, clearly not only registered. Not everyone could distinguish these people from the same militants in appearance or equipment.

Looking ahead, I’ll add: by the morning of September 3, the armament of the militias becomes more solid - you can notice machine guns and even grenade launchers. From the cars that arrived to the square, carbines are unloaded ...

From time to time, a group of men with machine guns and in unloading vests decisively, without a single word, move towards the police and riot police, passing for the cordon and disappearing somewhere in the vicinity of the school. Nobody asks them for documents, does not check, although in principle they cannot know any of the local soldiers! In general, for the whole time in Beslan, I have never seen someone to be asked to present documents, so they have never been checked from me, a camera in my hands served with a pass; Camouflage jackets, unloading vests and weapons were even more reliable passes. Simply put, in the city and its environs, groups of armed people were moved without any restrictions, who have nothing to do with official structures!

Formal cordon - soldiers of the internal troops - do not intervene in anything, silently blocking the path of only clearly calculated journalists, and even women. And in general, this strange cordon is some kind of strange: there is not a single officer among hundreds stretched along the streets of soldiers!

Single shots and automatic queues come from the school side: terrorists, not sparing cartridges (they clearly have no problems with ammunition), lead a disturbing fire in the vicinity. I mechanically compare what I saw with the Nord-Ost: No, it doesn't look like! In Moscow, at least the cordon was more real, there were signs of at least some management, the obvious sanity of city services. The second day of the attack, confusion, it would seem, should give way to organization and order, but in Beslan, power is in principle felt, neither local nor federal. By the way, these days not only me - none of the people on the street in the eye saw at least their mayor. However, it turned out that none of the townspeople knew what his name was.

Armed people scurry back and forth through the cordon, ignoring the soldier, confused police officers are trying to pave in the crowd the path of steep-and-hawk cars with flashing lights unrestrainedly wrapping up. Army sappers simply flanify among the crowd, as if walking their shepherds torn from a leash, dozens of local boys hang on trucks with the inscription "Marking" with clusters.

At relatively distant approaches to the school, it completely aimless maneuvering armored vehicles. Inside the cordon is also a full of differently dressed armed people, ambulances, firefighters, police, armored vehicles - and no command. Everyone waves their hands, shout at each other, some commands are given, no one listens to anyone, does nothing, cars move with jerks, almost encountering each other. My experience of military business trips is enough to understand: there is simply no single leadership or a really working headquarters here - everyone is confused, no one knows what to do full of management chaos. And this is on the second day of the attack!

"You can’t save - go to x ..!"

By the evening of September 2, the bandits began to shoot in the surroundings from under -barrel grenade launchers. You can hear the grenades break nearby - here and there. Sometimes the ears distinguish other sounds, deaf and barely audible. I guess that this is shot inside the school: most likely, they again shoot one of the hostages. The conjecture will be later confirmed. By night, the frequency of volleys from the underpermines intensifies - the terrorists definitely do not experience a shortage of ammunition. Out of the corner of the eye, it is possible to look at the school: the capture of the capture that chose the object is clearly not an amateur - a very convenient place for a firing position, the adjacent area is perfectly controlled, it is difficult to get into school imperceptibly.

And near the recreation center the crowd is seething. I can’t understand some cries, I can’t understand-they say in Ossetian, I understand only the “Dzasokhs”. I ask you to translate, I stumble upon the insane gaze of people. Only someone behind him retells: "They say why you are all lying, why don't you tell the truth about our children, why you will not say how many people are there." And he explains: “Our city is small, we are familiar with almost everyone here, how can you hide the truth? There are more than a thousand, but more than 800 children are studying, the same number of parents, relatives, many with young children, teachers. Where then only 354 hostages come from?!” Nearby shouts are already in Russian: "Why doesn’t the Dzasokhs come to us, why is it not with us? Why don't they tell us what these are they wanting?!"

People have radio receivers in their hands, others crowded near portable TVs, and completely delusional news reports cause rage. So far, this is only indignant screams, but I feel that the tension is growing, accumulates. People want to know that with children, what terrorists require, how many of them. They don’t talk to anyone, everyone is saying: you see, they have such terrible and unacceptable requirements for the authorities that they are afraid to publish them. And more and more often it comes from the crowd: "You can not save our children - go to x ..! We will deal with them ourselves and save our children ourselves!"

One of the militias standing nearby throws me: “Man, we, because we not only got the machine guns from under the bed, that we are Caucasians and men, we see that the authorities cannot and does not want anything. What assault, what operation?! These impotates hid at the first shots, they cannot even do normal numbness!”

Ruslan Aushev just left school. And then the story of a woman from among the hostages dedicated to him is scattered along the crowd: at school, real hell, men on the first day were separated from women and children and almost everyone was shot at once. Someone was killed right in front of the children: they knelt down and shot in the back of the head. Then there was a rumor that the two suicide bombers with the "belts of the Shahids" gathered several men around them and were blown up. And the liberated claim that in their eyes the bandits opened the floors at school, taking out some packaging from there-either with explosives, or with ammunition. And it is so clear that the terrorists could not drag the whole arsenal with them.

On the evening of September 2, the city covers a panic: several alarming cars burst into the Beslan on full gas, it came from the cabs: "Fighting in the Farne! The militants entered the Farn! Basaev goes to Beslan, take away the children! Blove the bridge!" Farn is very close. I stumble upon the traffic cops, I ask if this is so. The police, having heard the news, are rapidly rushing to the walkie -talkie. After a short radio exchange, they sigh in relief: "There are no fights there, this" alpha "shoots weapons there, trains." - "No, not" alpha ", Sobr!" - interrupts the second policeman, expressively looking at the partner.

But the rumor is either about the battles in the Farn, or the Alpha training has already reached the area: "Here, they again lie to us! They promise that there will be no assault, but they are preparing it! We will not let us storm!" Looking at the men, silently compressing the weapon, it is difficult to doubt this readiness.

In the late evening, they decided to have a bite to eat in the still working cafe "Irbis". They tried to get over with the waitresses until a series of tears of under -barrel grenades rumbled nearby, behind her more and more, and the queues were heard. They rushed closer to the school: did the militants go to the breakthrough? The next series of gaps sounded where we had just left. Two officers-offices were sipped with fragments: one in the abdominal cavity, the second-in the brush of the right hand. True, we learned about this only the next morning ...

September 3

The night had to spend on the street - the tiny hotel was completely clogged. On the very morning, a local resident suggested howling from him. It rumbled all night: the shelling of the surroundings of the terrorists led stably. And in the morning he found that he was inside the cordon: he left the house - there were only machine gunners sleeping on the lawns. The soldiers indifferently escorted us with his eyes, not even trying to find out who we are and how they found themselves here: since they are walking, it means that they can.

It turned out that the cordon was expanded because at night grenades of gangster under -barrels began to pour in the residential sector, there are wounded. The sergeant of the battalion of the internal troops (officers, again, not a single one around!) Explained: there was a rumor that the terrorists requested the corridor to Nazran, so they did it, taking away the armored vehicles and part of the soldiers. Indeed, the Bether in this corner has become smaller.

... It all started when my colleague Dmitry Bykov went to the Irbis cafe on General Pliev Street - find out about familiar wounded waitresses. As it turned out, the cafe was in some dozen meters from the school.

Two or three powerful explosions in a row - more precisely, I could not make out - they rumbled, as usual, unexpectedly. Some second lull - and then a frantic flurry of queues. The fire is clearly cross and so fierce that at that moment there was even no doubt: assault! The thought flashed for a moment that the height of the day was a strange time for the assault ...

And here, literally some seconds after the first explosions, it is not clear from where the running boy of about twelve-thirteen is bursting from where it bursts: in shorts, barefoot, in blood spots, with cereal cereal on their backs. Without understanding anything, he just threw up the camera, and bullets bloomed through the walls of the cafe in the air. The chronicle of events was restored for himself later thanks to the timer of his camera: the first frame of the running child made at 13.04. And the children all appeared and appeared from an inconspicuous caliper in the fence. The second child, the girl, the man carried in his arms exactly two seconds after the first. And only in the first incomplete minute of this hell, 14 people came past us. Then exactly a minute pause-and about 20 people run out-boys, girls take out in their arms, three women ... All as one face: in the blood, half-dressed, in complete shock, completely understanding anything, shaking with horror. “Drink, I want to drink,” the girl barely whispers in her arms and a machine gunner. “We drank urine, let me drink ...” The door to the already closed cafe is knocked out with butt, bring the child there and watered with mineral water - that fell by the arm.

The first thought was then that the storming worked cool: there were no minutes after the explosions, but so many rescued ... Then I understand: this is not planned assault, but just some kind of chaos! I take refuge near the wall from shelling. Nearby a machine gunner who has just brought a girl. Having eagerly swallowed water, he says that it all began by accident: “There, when the emphasists came behind the corpses, one kid jumped out of the hall and ran, the militants behind him, it is not clear whether he was blown up by stretch marks, or at once the other children ran, and these bitches opened fire in their backs, now our children are covered with fire ...”

At 13.19 in his arms they take the old man in a hat, completely no from the survivor horror, tightly pressing to himself inside out the bloodied jacket. Later I find out: this is Zaurbek Gutiev, a former teacher, a war veteran. He was invited to school to the solemn line, which dragged on until September 3 - he was also taken hostage, and he also had to drink urine. And in the jacket, as it turned out, military awards: he specially turned it out so that the terrorists would not see them ...

I hear a rumble: at 13.26, helicopters appeared in the air-a shock Mi-24 and a pair of Mi-8. Do not shoot, circle over the school ...

Was there a volley from a helicopter?

In a recently published special opinion of a member of the parliamentary commission to investigate the terrorist attack in Beslan, Yuri Savelyev states: "A blow to the roof of the corps adjacent to the sports hall (along the roof over the Ossetian language office) could only be carried out from the air, i.e., using combat helicopters Mi-24; here, more likely, the thermobaric garnet was used TBG-7V ". Savelyev concludes that "this blow could be delivered only from one of the fighting helicopters of the FSB special purpose center, which appeared above the school immediately after the first explosions sounded."

In an interview with Novaya Gazeta, Saveliev repeats : "There is no other explanation to these destruction, like shots, most likely, a TBG-7V grenade from helicopters that appeared above the school at about 13.15."

Note that in the chronicle, Savelyev diverges with himself: according to the report, helicopters appeared above the school "immediately after the first explosions sounded" (that is, on 13.04-13.05), and in an interview they were "about 13.15". A ten -minute discrepancy is a significant thing in the assessment of the battle. The first Mi-24 appeared above Beslan not immediately after the explosions, not even at 13.15, but at 13.26-22 minutes after the explosions! That the author of these lines immediately recorded with a camera. 22 minutes between the explosion and the appearance of combat vehicles - just as much as it is necessary to raise (of course, already prepared for the flight) of the car from the airfield to the air and fly.

I repeat, this discrepancy in time is not a trifle, since the version of the immediate appearance of helicopters has become a common myth. But for 22 minutes of battle, they were not close to the school! And to what was happening there until 13.26, helicopters can have nothing to do.

And the version of Savelyev about the shelling from the helicopter, in my opinion, does not stand up to criticism. Neither I, none of my many colleagues near the place of tragedy, none of the local residents surrounding the school observed such a volley! There is not a single testimony (and they, as you know, are very different and often contradict each other) that the helicopters made a volley at school.

Being in the war, I have repeatedly seen the helicopter fire, he himself fell under the fire from the air and categorically claim: such a volley cannot be noticed. So, there was no helicopter volley on the roof of the school.

Savelyev’s reputation as a specialist on the issues of combustion and explosion physics and staggered strongly in my eyes when he suggested that a volley of ... grenade launcher was made from a helicopter! Does the Doctor of Technical Sciences imagine how they shoot from a grenade launcher? Indeed, when firing from the open official part of the barrel, a powerful stream of powder gases is thrown out, which forms a dangerous zone behind a grenade launcher. And according to the rules of shooting at a distance of up to 30 meters there should be neither people, nor ammunition, nor fuel. Translated into normal language, this means that a grenade launcher from the helicopter side is just guaranteed suicide! And on the external pendants of helicopters, as far as I can judge by my own pictures, there were bags not with grenade launchers, but with quite regular Nurses or controlled missiles. One way or another, I repeat, any salvo from the helicopter could not go unnoticed.

Storm

... In the courtyard it is already impossible to be: around either the fragments fall, or bullets. However, the street is also full chaos. And from the side of the school, a continuous canonade, a break after a break. By sounds, I determine: stretch marks, manual grenades are torn, a finger is conducted from under -barrel grenade launchers and - this can also be determined - the school is pierced from anti -tank grenade launchers, even after the Chechen war, these sounds are difficult to confuse with others. The controlled assault did not resemble this.

"What a storm?! There is just a mochilovo!" - the militia yells, stopping my attempts to advance to school. "Weapons! Give me a weapon!" - A completely insane guy about 25 years old is in a cry. "Hey, you! Why take off! Don’t take it off! I said, do not take off!" -screams some frantic man with a carbine. The shootout is clearly approaching us, a completely animal cry comes: "cartridges! We have ended ammunition! Give the cartridges!". Literally after a moment, boxes with cartridges are pulled out of the neighboring house, like an arsenal here in every entrance.

Then the sounds change, as if from school they went to a breakthrough: the shots were frequent closer; Right above our heads, in the crowns of trees, grenades from under -barrels are torn. The street was literally shackled - the people rushed to the houses, lay on the sidelines. A strange group rushed to the minibus: healthy uncles carefully cover up some important shorty armor. I recognize the Kokoits - the president of South Ossetia. I automatically throw up the camera, from behind the back of Kokoita there is a animal roar: "Do not shoot, your mother! I said, I will not take it off! I will kill, bastard!" Yes, of course, cocoys behind the armor - this is not photogenic ...

However, a minute later Kokoita changed his mind to leave. And the street around us turns into an impromptu headquarters: this person really knows how to lead. Не знаю, может, где еще и было какое-то управление или руководство, но здесь, на улице Плиева, казалось, что вся власть перешла в руки Эдуарда Кокойты. Взмахом руки он показывал, куда пригнать машину, куда мчаться с носилками, командовал, как погружать подтаскиваемых раненых. Потом распоряжения Кокойты стали обретать уже чисто военный характер.

– Патроны, где патроны? Туда тащите! Слышите, стрельба перемещается – они уходят, темнеет рано, нельзя дать им раствориться, они сейчас прорвутся и разбегутся, затаятся во дворах, а ночью уйдут. Нельзя упустить! Начинайте прочесывать каждый дом уже сейчас. Каждый двор, все подвалы, чердаки...

Примерно в 14.25 – 14.30 замечаю странную компанию: по улице спокойно фланирует троица, одетая по-спецназовски – камуфляж, шлемы-сферы, мощные бронежилеты, полная боевая выкладка. Уж не знаю, кто это, но они совершенно спокойно прогуливаются по улице, не обращая никакого внимания на происходящее. Непонятно: там бой, а бойцы прогуливаются тут! Люди при их приближении удивлялись: "Почему вы здесь, а не ТАМ?" А из школы уже потащили раненых, тоже в камуфляже.

В окрестностях школы явной паники не чувствуется, но нет и никакой власти. Лишь где-то совсем вдали, подальше от зоны огня, вижу лица испуганных милиционеров. Кстати, так и не увидел ни одного человека в милицейской форме среди тех, кто спасал людей. Может, кто-то делал это в штатском, но люди в форме выглядели совершенно растерянными. Милицейский офицер, явно в ступоре, бесцельно бегал по улице туда-сюда, размахивая пистолетом и тыча им в кого ни попадя. К школе на моих глазах рвутся только люди в гражданской одежде или в камуфляже. Они же вместе со спасателями МЧС и медиками все время кого-то оттуда выносят: раненых, детей.

Пальба то затихает, то вновь разгорается, хотя уже понятно, что сопротивление боевиков неуклонно затихает. Но в здании и вокруг него все время гремят взрывы. На подступах к школе вижу валяющиеся тубы от использованных одноразовых гранатометов и даже огнеметов. На другой день эти тубы растащат мальчишки. Понятно, что из всего этого били по школе, набитой людьми и взрывчаткой. По-моему, ополченцы, что лупят по зданию из всего, что у них есть, уже мало что соображают. В запале едва не убили коллегу-фотографа, приняв за боевика. А каких-то двоих незнакомцев втоптали в асфальт.

Ближе к вечеру в какофонию вплетается еще один узнаваемый звук: залпы танковых орудий. Это уже никак не укладывается в голове: ведь в школе еще куча заложников, как можно применять танки?! Со своего импровизированного НП вижу: крыша здания школы провалена. Сталкиваюсь с местным жителем Виталием, познакомились накануне, у него в школе дочки: весь в крови – рубашка, брюки, за поясом пистолет.

– Там, в спортзале, настоящая Хатынь! Одни трупы, только трупы, их сотни, сотни, кровавое месиво... – Нашел дочек? – Только старшую – сам вытащил! Да всех таскал, пока можно было, ее и не узнал – страшная, на себя не похожа, сама меня узнала – "папа, папа". Я через гаражи прошел. Там сотни сгорели, взорвались, крови по колено, никого не опознать, от них ничего не осталось – везде внутренности, сердца, больше ничего. Младшую еще не нашел...

Он ее так и не найдет ни тем вечером, ни на другой день – ни среди живых, ни среди мертвых.

Destruction of evidence

В бесланской больнице на изумление царит почти идеальный порядок. Еще вечер 3 сентября, но уже вывешены рукописные листочки с именами живых, люди обмениваются сведениями, кого нашли, кто опознан. Вход охраняют автоматчики, в палаты никто не прорывается. Удивительно дисциплинированные люди, так держать себя в руках! Хотя, конечно, все просто в шоке, осознание случившегося придет позже. Слышу, как женщина говорит по мобильному телефону: "Заурик только что умер, я говорю - умер Заурик, ему голову оперировали, умер. А Адама мы еще не нашли".

Вышли на свежий воздух покурить-подышать хирурги, профессора Кульчиев и Слепушкин: "У нас сейчас больше 200 человек. Раны в основном минно-взрывные, осколочные, есть пулевые, ожоговые, практически все в шоке. Еще примерно 400 увезли в больницы Владикавказа".

Плачущих во дворе почти нет, люди молча ждут или тихо обмениваются новостями. Рассказывают про Раису Гавриловну Гадисову – секретаря школы: во время боя сумела вытащить троих детей на улицу, выпрыгнула сама. Говорят про семью Бетрозовых. Точнее, что нет больше этой семьи: отца, Руслана, на глазах сыновей – 16-летнего Алана и 13-летнего Аслана – поставили на колени и убили выстрелом в затылок. Запомнили, как старший, Алан, произнес, глядя в глаза боевика: "Я тебя запомнил". После этих парнишек уже не видели.

Алла Гадиева сидит на носилках и сама хочет выговориться: у нее ни царапинки, а вот ее шестилетнего сына Заура пока не нашли. Сохраняю эту диктофонную запись до сих пор: "Он гордый, – говорит Алла молчаливо сидящему рядом отцу. – Мочу не стал пить. Говорит: мама, когда выйдем, ты мне купишь много-много ванильного мороженого и кока-колы. Мне вообще все время казалось, что это сон. Вижу рядом соседа и думаю, что за человек, откуда я его знаю. Да, съели цветы, пили мочу. Тайком ее в баночки собирали и тихо пили. Представляешь, многие жадничали, даже мочой не хотели делиться. Да скоро и ее не стало – нечем оказалось ходить. Мужчин расстреляли. Сначала ставили в центре зала зайчиком – на корточки, руки за головой, такими торчащими ушками. Говорили: шевельнется или кто в зале пикнет – застрелим. А потом сказали: вам мужчин не жалко, будем детей зайчиком ставить. И ставили..." Уже позже слышал, как радостно закричал вдруг кто-то из-за моей спины, пробиваясь к Алле: "Нашли, нашли твоего Заурчика, жив!"

Утром 4 сентября вернулся к школе. Она еще кое-где дымится, спортзала нет... Люди в форме МЧС носят на носилках трупы. Во внутреннем дворике какие-то ряды прямоугольников, покрытые фольгой, вокруг ходят люди в респираторах: приподнимают фольгу, что-то смотрят, потом записывают. Догадываюсь: под фольгой – люди, идет опознание. И в том же дворике трактора и бульдозеры что-то сгребают в кучки, небольшой экскаватор своим ковшом грузит это в кузова грузовиков – какой-то непонятный хлам. Навожу телеобъектив: обрывки ткани, обувь...

Спустя несколько месяцев вдруг на одной из свалок за городом обнаружат остатки одежды, обуви и фрагменты тел. То, что наблюдал в камеру, оказывается, было просто преступлением, сокрытием улик: трактора-экскаваторы сгребали в мусор то, что осталось от людей, то, что никто не собирался опознавать...

Так кто же спровоцировал штурм бесланской школы? Версия Владимира Воронова - в материале " Террористы нуждались в уходе "