ONLY HE DID NOT RETURN FROM THE BATTLE
- Wait, let’s negotiate!
- The negotiations are over! - Selyuk snapped,
- So, war? - asked the «Black Arab», behind whom stood 200 armed militants from the gang of Hakim.
- War! - The lieutenant said firmly.
Sergeant Akhmetov and Private Bolshakov were the first to openly grapple with the militants.
Being in the group of senior lieutenants Fedorov and Nezhdanov, they rushed up to the nearest hills, not suspecting that the Dzhuma bandits were hiding there. (The second group, under the command of Selyuk and Dmitrishen, remained right by the road).
Bolshakov entered hand-to-hand combat. Without giving the Mujahid to his senses, he grabbed the PC from him, and the man cowardly retreated.
Slim, but nimble and dexterous Akhmetov shot another bandit point-blank.
The altitude was occupied.
Soon the rest of the soldiers of Fedorov’s group ran into the hill. And the Juma bandits retreated.
At that moment, in the lower reaches of the gorge, one of the militants’ cars (as it turned out, Hakim was in it) overcame the bridge and, gaining speed, disappeared. Then the second drove into the crossing.
- Olzhibayev, fire! - Fedorov commanded the grenade launcher
And the representative of the border commandant’s office «Alekseyevka», nicknamed «Vesely», fired.
Miss.
The grenade went higher.
The soldier took the amendment and set the ZIL on fire with the second grenade.
Below, junior sergeant Batrkanov, behind a concrete road fence, conducted aimed fire at the enemy.
Suddenly he noticed how a group of militants was trying to bypass our guys under the cover of the ridge from the flank and go to their rear.
Rajan immediately warned their actions with well-aimed and cold-blooded fire from a machine gun. He put five militants down at once.
He cut one of them with a burst at the moment of throwing a grenade at them.
It never exploded; it remained with the pin pulled out in the numb hand of the mujahid.
The bandits got angry. And, turning around, they hit him with all kinds of weapons…
***
Brave boy Rajan is a native of Katon-Karagai, East Kazakhstan region. All that is inherent in his native land entered his flesh and blood. In his character and drawings (the young man was very fond of drawing) one can easily guess the infinite height, and the purity of thoughts, and the indomitable spirit of the Kazakh guy.
This tall, strong young man, with shiny, pensive eyes and jet-black curls fluttering in the wind, to match his swarthy skin, from childhood was characterized by a heightened sense of justice. He made friends with all the guys in the village, he was never a bully, but he did not give himself offense either. As his fellow countrymen recall, he was modest and respectful. He read a lot. It even happened that if the elder brothers could not find him anywhere, they went to the village library. It was there that he sat with books all days long.
Serving the Fatherland has always been the cherished dream of a rural boy. He seriously prepared himself for this mission: he ran, did boxing, and loved to play volleyball. Kettlebells, dumbbells, and a barbell have never been forgotten in the garage. But most importantly, he studied well and was greedy for knowledge.
Back in his school years, Rajan decided that he would become a border officer. And when the time came, he applied for admission to the border school. But, probably, it was so predetermined by fate that he did not succeed in becoming a cadet of the Border School. No sooner had he arrived in Almaty than he was ... bitten by wasps, which caused the young man to have a severe allergy. When the reaction to the bites passed, the time for admission was lost. And Rajan returned home.
In May 1993, the young man was called up for military service. He was sent to serve in the Kurchum border detachment. A year later, the unit began to select fighters for the next team to guard the external borders - to Tajikistan. Rajan also signed up as a volunteer, although he was only six months away from being demobilized.
But the stories about the heroes of Afghanistan, the military romance did their job. The guy wanted to test himself in a difficult situation, to visit there - on the alarming border «by the river».
There was no fear. Open, cheerful, with a wide soul like the Kazakh steppe, nineteen-year-old Rajan believed that he was going to the Pamir Mountains to protect not only the brotherly people of Tajikistan, but also his country. So he did not spare his strength, his life, in that fateful battle, fighting bravely, like a true son of his people, who, even in the most difficult battles, did not tarnish his military honor.
Batrkanov could have gone back, for a more reliable cover, rolled down to the river, into a dead zone that was not shot through. But he did not do this, taking the brunt of the militants’ blow. As a result, the junior sergeant was wounded in the leg. But even being wounded, he did not give the militants the opportunity to get up from the ground, scribbling with dense fire from his machine gun. The minutes that he gave to his unit allowed the border guards to regroup and strike at the enemies.
But ... from loss of blood, losing consciousness, Rajan no longer saw how Private Japarov covered his wounded man with well-aimed fire. He did not see how Private Kadyrbayev rose to the firing point, just aptly shot by him, Rajan, and how from there, using a captured machine-gun belt, he began to pour fire on the enemy from his weapon. It was not destined to find out to Rajan that, thanks to his courageous actions, the battle was practically over. He did not hear the silence that followed...
From the received wound, without regaining consciousness, Rajan died.
In the heat of the battle, none of his friends noticed how his eyes closed forever. Only in a Kazakh village far from the Pamir Mountains did the mother’s heart suddenly beat in alarm.
“Forgive me, mommy, for worrying and for my callousness,” Rajan always mentally talked with the person closest to him when he had a free minute during the service in Tajikistan, where the mother did not even suspect that her son was there. And then he added: “I’ll be back soon, Mom. Very soon».
Alas, Rajan failed to return to her alive…
***
…The battle ended with the actual defeat of the gang: 32 militants were killed, 7 out of 9 trucks were destroyed, 4 were missing, 1 was captured, and about 50 were injured.
***
Almost 30 years have passed since that tragic event in the Pamir Mountains. Time is certainly unforgiving. And a lot is erased from memory.But the memory of the heroic deed of junior sergeant Rajan Batrkanov is still alive. In the school museum where the hero-border guard studied, a corner of his name was opened. His name is proudly borne by the secondary school of the village, where the hero-border guard lived and studied. A Street in Katon-Karagai is named after him. The border department is named after him, serving in which is a great honor for every soldier in a green cap.
Rajan’s comrades in arms, school friends, relatives and friends remember him. Until now, grief and sadness fetter their hearts. For all of them, he remained forever: that radiant, young, full of strength and life, with black whirlwinds on his head as a nineteen-year-old guy.
***
By the Decree of the President of the Republic of Kazakhstan for the courage and valor displayed in the defense of the external borders of the CIS, junior sergeant Rajan Batrkanov was awarded the Aibyn Order of the II-nd degree posthumously. In the club of the Katon-Karagay, East Kazakhstan region, the award was presented to the mother of the hero.
Kizat apay accepted the order of her son with excitement. Her hands were trembling, a lump came up to her throat ... and tears quietly, soundlessly poured from her eyes, streamed down her cheeks. One still couldn’t believe that her beloved boy was no longer in this world. It did not fit into the consciousness that the kind, smart, big, like a camel’s eyes of her son would never look at her.
And the mother’s soul was cut short by grief. From somewhere outside, universal pain came and flooded from head to toe. And the tears froze, the heart turned to stone.
Since then, this aching, unbearable melancholy from irreparable loss has not passed, although her daughter and three adult brothers of Rajan are next to Kizat apay.
With sad sadness she looks at the photo of her beloved son, in which he is the way she remembers him and will always remember him: serious, impetuous, purposeful and ... alive.