The Most Russian Person. Владимир ШатакишвилиЧитать онлайн книгу.
That way he made his son Zhenka fall in love with these same sciences, so that when he grew up, he became submarine designer. He is now seventy-two years old, Honored Submariner of Russia, lives in Severodvinsk. Here is what else Igor Vasilyevich asked me about during that first meeting: “You, Ivan Nikiforovich, should be as military strict with subordinates. People from all over the country will soon come here, you need to continuously deliver them to the plant – from Sverdlovsk, Chelyabinsk. In addition, a huge amount of cargo will also go and they should not suffer. This is a responsible matter, but I hope you can handle it.”
“Sure I will cope, Igor Vasilyevich!”
Academician rose from the table, came close and firmly shook my hand. Our eyes met, he carefully began to examine me, from close range. We turned out to be the same height and it is when I was almost two meters tall! On “Mayak” people of this height are rare.
“And now about the main thing. All the country's science, famous academics, started moving to us. They need to be placed in three cottages specially built for them,” Kurchatov paused. “But remember that the academicians are the same children, they wear hats in summer and winter. Please meet each in person, do not reassign to anyone. And change hats to caps!”
From this day on, I met and placed “domestic science” personally. People were different: more silent, thoughtful, and there were capricious, and such as Yuliy Borisovich Khariton – cheerful, good-humoured. I went hunting and fishing with them. I got the most important thing: every academician was a secret person, the country would learn many of their names later after their discoveries, and in the case of Sergey Pavlovich Korolev only after his death.
For especially important guests I warmed two cars in stock. I made out sheepskin coats, felt boots, fur hats and, whatever happens, a few bottles of Armenian brandy.
Such a case soon came up. Boris Glebovich Muzrukov, director of the plant, calls me and says, “There hasn’t been any news from the people meeting Korolev for a long time. You are at control”. It was almost the only time when someone else instead of me went to meet, and no one knew who Korolev was. I called the driver of one of the already equipped cars, and we rushed. Somewhere after ten kilometers we saw a car that had slid to the side of the road. The driver was busy under the hood, and two passengers and a welcomer were standing nearby. In order not to waste time, I gave the command to the drivers to take the stalled car in tow, and made the guests put on sheepskin coats, hats and boots, practically making them change clothes in the cold. Then I poured cognac into glasses, offered cheese, sausages, something else and soon brought the latecomers to the place. I ran to Muzrukov, reported that everything was in order (it was night, and our cottages were nearby), but he laughed, “Korolev has already called, said that some huge “chief”, as the chauffeurs call him, arrived and forced him change clothes and even made him drink brandy.” After that, I met Sergey Pavlovich more than once. He was a charming and modest person. Although neither a hunter nor a fisherman, he never refused to go to the country.”
“Ivan Nikiforovich! My interview with you has stretched out for long four years. An entire story was written, handed over to the editor, and on January 12, 2007, there came the centenary of Sergey Pavlovich Korolev. Let's go back and talk about what you have remembered from your meetings with him.”
“There were several such meetings. Where do we start?”
“Tell everything that you remember, and then put the episodes in chronological order.”
“To begin with, over the years of my work at “Mayak”, I met Sergey Pavlovich every time, except for the episode already described. His arrivals were associated with the development and supply of fuel for future space missions. Train sets of tanks went constantly from us to Baikonur. He made closest friendly relations, I would even say, with Slavsky, Muzrukov, Kurchatov.”
“Did close communication with him happen after your eight-year work at “Mayak”?”
“Yes, the first such meeting took place in 1957. By that time I had moved to Mineralnye Vody and worked in Lermontov as the head of the motor transport at a classified unit. Once in the director’s receiption I was informed that they had called from Kislovodsk and asked to get in touch. It turned out that on Korolev’s instructions, his assistant was looking for me and sent me an invitation to come to Ordzhonikidze Sanatorium. After work I started my new Volga and headed for Kislovodsk. The meeting turned out to be warm and friendly. While walking in the park for a couple of hours, we remembered mutual friends, acquaintances, some episodes from our life in the Urals. We planned a trip to Elbrus region. Vladimir Semyonovich Khomutov, chief medical officer, was the initiator of it. I took over the organization of shashlyk, pickled meat and picked up a set of stainless steel skewers brought from the Urals. All other problems were laid on the management of the sanatorium. The next morning we met on the highway Pyatigorsk – Nalchik, and three cars drove into the mountains. Elbrus region today still remains one of the largest centers of mountaineering and skiing in the country.
In Baksan, we were joined by an old friend of mine, the chairman of the village council, Azret Shokovich Bifov, with his sons Zhamal and Hassan. I contacted them late in the evening and invited to take part in the event. Somewhere a year before this episode, we rested in Elbrus region with families, and for my part it would be an unforgivable mistake not to invite these noble people to a decent men company, knowing how much honour and respect among the countrymen Azret Shokovich enjoys.
We got there two hours later. I don’t remember exactly what that place was, it seems, a recreation center for management, as there was security and staff. Representatives of the regional party committee of Kabardino-Balkaria, who met us, suggested a walk to the mountains. My legs ached then, and I had to give up climbing. Together with the chef of the sanatorium and the Baksan friends I took up cooking dinner. Kabardians brought with them a fat-tailed ram, dressed it and everything turned out at the highest level. Skewers of lamb and pork, shulum, skilfully cooked lamb entrails, greenery, vegetables, fruits, various slices of sturgeon and salmon fish and meat and sausage products. Guests came back from the walk about three hours later, pleased and full of enthusiastic impressions. We had already prepared a sumptuous dinner by that time, all the more so that everyone was pretty hungry. Sergey Pavlovich, impressed by the beauty of the nature of the Caucasus, was pleased and even made a toast and despite the sanatorium regime, took two or three shots of brandy.
We came back home late at night.
The second meeting with Korolev occurred in 1961. On a call from the USSR Ministry of Medium Machine Building, I once again had to visit the capital. By the way, I don’t know how it was in other ministries, but in those years our employees were summoned to Moscow and not sent on business trips by their enterprises. On arriving, I directly went to the reception office of Efim Pavlovich Slavsky, our long-term minister (from 1957 to 1986), who had served at his post until the age of 88. The receptionist knew me and both his secretaries usually tried to help get to the boss without delay, but this time they asked to wait. Just in case I asked, “Who is there with him?” It turned out that it was Korolev, and then, having rejoiced, I said that I had known him well for a long time. My arrival was reported. And I immediately entered into the minister’s cabinet, which I had known for a long time, and embraced him and Sergey Pavlovich. Slavsky says to me, “It is very good that you have arrived today. By four o'clock in the evening be with me. In the meantime, take a break from the road, or do something.”
There was always enough work in the ministry. I went around the offices I had planned, settled in a hotel, and at the appointed time appeared before Slavsky. Together, in the Minister’s “Chaika”, we went to the restaurant of the Moscow Hotel. We were met at the service entrance and taken to the luxurious banquet hall, where about twelve people had already gathered, all close to Korolev. It turned out that the event was dedicated to giving Sergey Pavlovich the second Golden Star of the Hero of Socialist Labor. I was introduced to the guests as a colleague of Efim Pavlovich for work in Chelyabinsk-40 and who had worked for many years alongside Igor Vasilyevich Kurchatov. I don’t remember who those people were, but there were the Stars of Heroes on the jackets of many of them, and Slavsky at that moment had two. The evening was solemn, everyone wished the general designer further space victories. Surprisingly, they drank little, basically brandy. Probably because many were already at a respectable age. When the word