Excerpt from the memoirs of Dmitry Anatolyevich Petrov "The Rage Virus in Russia: A Personal Hell and European Campaign"
June 8, 2003
We reached Berdyansk, while razing the city to a state of concrete crumbs. It makes you feel like a destroyer: no matter which city you come to, it will definitely turn into ruins. On the other hand, there are no people there anyway, but all this does not remove the depression in your soul: your acquaintances and friends in Ukraine have long been infected, and all you can do is wade through the brutal crowds, fight not only for your own, but for the lives of millions of people, including your compatriots. That's what motivated not only me, but also many Russian soldiers in those days: the thirst for salvation, the desire to save the human race from this wave of infected. Yes, I sometimes slip into Christian allegories, but they fit the attitude of what is happening around me. For me... for many people it has turned into their "personal hell", which is imprinted on the brain, turning it into a film that scrolls day after day, night after night. Sometimes you get tired of the fact that you constantly see these terrible pictures, asking your brain to stop this torment. Senselessly. You remembered that for rest of your life.
The task of our regiment was to reach Melitopol together with the rest of the other units, and then advance to Novonikolaevka. Before the offensive, we were massively given an antidote for nerve gases and a variety of delivery vehicles, including VR and Novichok gases. As it turned out, the gases were not disposed of, contrary to conventions and treaties. Well, it's better for us, and it will be easier to destroy the infection. At the same time, my heart ached when I look at the expanses of a once great country, and the pain pierces my soul: withmy own hands I burn out where your compatriots used to live, where I went to a pioneer camp. It was like that for all of us. But we knew that victory is not complete without sacrifice. I pulled myself together, and before launching an attack, I made a speech:
"Comrades. Today, we are going to make a breakthrough, to the defenders of the Crimea. I am sure that we will win. And we are also confident that we will defend our land. Russia and every Russian soldier have a great goal - to protect humanity from the spreading infection. They pray for us in all cities of the world. So let's not let our Motherland and all the people of the world down. Go ahead! Drive the enemy without respite, without getting tired! Ura!"
In response, the roar of many throats. I did not doubt my soldiers, and they, in turn, did not doubt me.
The first thing that started the attack was the shelling with chemical munitions, since the wind was blowing to the west and did not touch residential areas. Shells with chemical fillings, like bombs, fell into clusters of infected people, which greatly facilitated our further cleansing of cities. Then there was aviation, finishing off those who survived, and then, on a tip from the air reconnaissance, artillery struck, but with high-explosive and cluster shells. And that's just what we went after. Driving through gassed cities, roads and towns, I could see piles of bodies huddled on the ground. It was impossible not to drive through and hear the disgusting slurping of flesh and crunching of bones under the tracks of the BMD. As we approached the city, there were only more corpses: the entire fields, roads, and suburbs were strewn with dead infected, and blood along with pieces of lungs flooded the ground, staining the grass blood-red, making me and other soldiers shudder nervously. It is somewhat reminiscent of H. G. Wells's "War of the Worlds", which I read in childhood, except that there were not enough alien plants, standing tripods and Martians dead from terrestrial microbes for a larger entourage, but even so it chilled to the bone.
One of the faces seemed familiar to me. I denied it, tried not to look at it, but I remembered him. Alexey. My friend, an old friend. Now he was part of this terrible picture, whose half-submerged head with red, glass eyes was oozing blood. It was as if my body was paralyzed: the realization that your friend, whom you had seen for many years, was now dead, was hitting my mind. Somehow I was able to put myself in order and continue to look around, watching this picture. Upon entering the city itself, it looked more like a scene from a typical zombie movie or a mass genocide: the city was flooded with blood and littered with corpses, which is why armored vehicles simply skidded in a pile of corpses and blood. In some parts, "natural" corduroy roads formed, consisting of corpses.
Corpses were everywhere: on the street, in apartments, in basements. Bloody streams could be seen from every corner, and one of the playgrounds had turned into a blood-soaked swamp. My eyes, fullied with tears, stared at this scene in horror. Thank God that this not visible under the gas mask. At the sight of many infected children's corpses, including a girl and a boy of about six years old, there was already vomit in my mouth, which I barely managed to swallow. I closed my eyes in fear, but this scene was still in front of my eyes, so I gradually opened them. The gas mask was a salvation for me, because it smelled of nothing, unlike blood. And the movement of the column was already taking place outside the city, and the picture did not change at all. Somewhere there were more corpses, and somewhere there were fewer.
The first battles with a significant, albeit thinned number of infected through the use of chemical weapons, took place at Pavlovka. Then we were given the RPO "Shmel" two pieces per person, for RPG sections, by order, began to massively issue thermobaric grenades for RPG-7. Even the RPO "Rys" was taken from warehouses. My regiment was reinforced with Shilkas, Tunguskas, T-72, T-80 and TOS-1. Apparently, the command appreciated our, and not only our efforts to break through the front: instead of the planned two-three days, we covered this distance in a day. First, the city was shelled from TOS-1 battery, then through the use of helicopters, aviation and artillery. The massive use of thermobaric and cluster munitions did not leave anything from the city, while the advancing clusters of infected coming to our flank were fired at by armored vehicles.
"An horde of infected people, 10 o'clock!" - I shouted, aiming the 30-mm autocannon of my BMD-2 at this horde, mowing it down with incendiary high-explosive shells. The explosions destroyed many infected people, while two soldiers from my regiment, apparently an RPG squad, opened fire on them with thermobaric munition, tearing the enemy to pieces along with volleys from tanks, an avalanche of shells from Shilkas and Tunguskas. The whole crowd was literally destroyed in just a few seconds, after which we continued the offensive again. The breakthrough to Novonikolaevka was accompanied by extensive use of aviation: again I heard the roar of the Su-25, MiG-23 and MiG-27, but the MiG-29 was added to them, the blades of the Mi-24, Mi-28 and Ka-50 sounded. Helicopters and planes attacked the infected, clearing the way for us with autocannons, missiles, and thermobaric bombs with ATGMs. Moving further and further, we did not meet serious resistance - the aircraft destroyed the enemy before us, and we were only cleaning up.
Soon, we arrived at Novonikolaevka, or to be more precise, to the suburbs. Even with the naked eye, it was clear that there were too many infected, and heavy fire from high-caliber machine guns, guns of all calibers and artillery was conducted from the Crimean side of the Rozhee (Pink) Lake. Soon I saw how, on the orders commander of my regiment, Nonas and other artillery pieces began to fire, along with the TOS-1 "Buratino". Thermobaric explosions covered a huge area, shells tore crowds apart, helicopters hit with rockets and autocannons, and aircraft dropped thermobaric bombs, firing missiles with a similar filling. In just a few minutes, we didn't leave anything of them. The smoke slowly dissolved until a crackling sound was heard on the radio, and then the voice of one of the commanders of the local garrison:
"Thank God, help has come! Guys, thanks for the help! Everything is burning here from your thermobaric ammunition, as if at Borodino!"
Finally. The first living human voice in these few days. Of course, I had heard them before, but the hope that the Crimean garrison would stand was only getting stronger. Even strategic bombers, which dropped thermobaric bombs and conducted carpet bombing, did not spare the infected. When we reached the ruins of Alexandrovka, we finally linked up with the units of the Crimean garrison and the remnants of the Ukrainian army in Crimea, which greeted us with incredible cordiality. We hugged and shook hands. It was a real joy that we were able to save many lives from death. And that was the most important thing...
