Mol in the service of Russia

Alexey Mondelchenko, our full -time paratrooper , philologist and installer of antennas , continues to lead his existential Monday column. He has repeatedly written about his amazing army service , but his stories do not end and do not end. Today you will find out what the army and Magnit army are mean and you will receive a weekly irradiation with a green elephant of the Armed Forces of Russia.

It was in the army. A few more people from the training battalion to the battle transferred me. And this is almost a second time to get into the army. Transferred, brought to the barracks, identified into the company, led to the floor and say:
- Wait for now.

We are waiting for. We are afraid. According to the scenario, such hefty demobilians should come in unfastened tunic with berets on the backs and bargaining something that we would all have to pale and scared hard. Someone said:
- When will they start to fuck? And then we are sitting and waiting for what is unknown.

In the location of the company into which we were transferred, it was quite quiet and almost deserted. Several soldiers looked at us from the other end of the room and discussed something. The day in the hope of finding a fellow countryman quietly found out who was called up and from where. Some lieutenant came in. Judging by the face, he was very angry. Later we learned that this is his usual state. The lieutenant came to us:
- Who are?
- We…
- You have to get up when they turn.

We jumped. The lieutenant charged one of us with a knee in the groin and was already going further along his lieutenant affairs, but stopped near the overcoat cabinet.

The overcoat is not overcoat at all, since we did not wear overcoats. And this, in general, is not a closet, since there are no doors in it. The lieutenant looked at the overcoat and was upset.
- The first platoon, again a mess in an overcoat cabinet! Platoon, build in front of the overcoat cabinet! Built, fucking creatures!

Several soldiers came running from somewhere and built in two lines.

The order in the closet was perfect, like everything in the army. The pea jackets in the closet were hung with love and a sense of beautiful. The armored chevrons "Russia of the Armed Forces" were aligned in one horizontal line. The collars were beautifully straightened to the shoulders. Not a single chain button dangled. All the pea jackets hung perfectly. All, except one - extreme at the back. Someone and for some reason decided to wear it in the summer. Or maybe he hid something in his pocket. In general, the peace of the extreme left pea jacket was disturbed, and the sleeve Chevron was a little knocked out of the common line. And the collar was somehow not very beautifully straightened. Burdak, in a word.

The order in the closet was perfect, like everything in the army. Not a single chain button dangled.

- Why is there a mess in the overcoat cabinet? - The eyes of the lieutenant were filled with blood.

The soldiers silently stood opposite and confusedly looked from the officer to the closet.
- Attention, platoon! - The officer gained full light air and blurted out, - Mol!

We did not immediately understand that "Mol!" - This is a team. But those guys were just waiting for this.

Mol !!!

Built soldiers, with a run in three jumps, rushed inside the overcoat cabinet, grabbed the pea jackets with their hands, clutched their teeth into the collars and froze. We served for six months, but we did not see this. The soldiers were sitting in the closet, holding her jackets in their teeth for collars and looked expectantly at the officer.
- Set aside "Mol." On the original.

Everyone raised from the closet and built.
-Some you are sluggish. Mol!

And again everything was repeated. I looked at it and thought, as if I were so accidental to please the platoon to this wonderful and inventive lieutenant. The execution was interrupted by the team of the day "quietly!". This was the commander of our company.
“Greetings, comrades young soldiers!” Go to the office. We will talk to you!

It soon became clear that in the training we were taught only to those teams and rules that are recorded in the charter. And living according to the charter in a combat battalion is how to live according to the Constitution in Russia. For example, on the authorized command “Equal” you need to turn the head right and so that the right ear is above the left, the chin was raised and to see the chest of the fourth person from you. But the team "Equally equal!" It is performed in the same way, but before freezing with your head turned, you need to twist it back and forth twice and at the same time publish clinging sounds with the tongue. There are a hundred people, they are equal, and sounds are like you at the table tennis championship.

I was very laughing at the Magnit! The one to whom the team was addressed had to run into the sports-angles and grab all metal objects-weights, pancakes from the bar, dumbbells and so on. The riding of the art of execution was considered to stick with all this to the metal support of the horizontal bar. "Set aside Magnit!" - And now sports shells falling on the floor are already rumbleing.

However, most of all I was amazed by the team "Crushed in horror!" This team was masterfully performed by one of the soldiers of our platoon. He covered his face with his hands, published a lingering inhuman scream, torn his face with his fingertips so that the lower eyelids dropped from the eyeballs, and his face was poured in red. When the air ended in the lungs, and his hands reached his neck, the soldier turned around and ran away from her eyes with a pig’s eye.

At first, everyone wants to fingle in horror. Where else can you take a scream all the horror from what is happening around? Then everyone gets used to it, and the threshold of sensitivity to the surrounding hell increases many times. Sometimes it seems to me that the army is needed not only to teach a person to handle weapons or to force him to work for free, no, the army is doing much more. She prepares Russian citizens for such a life in which absolutely any hell will be perceived as a small trifle.

It is not surprising that in Russia almost no one noticed the coming apocalypse.