This is the case with Maryanovka, a town in Western Siberia which has preserved the essence of by-gone years, plus an aerodrome which looks as if at any moment a squadron of fighter planes with brilliant red stars daubed on their tail wings would be about to take off.

An L-29 jet at Maryanovka aerodrome    

After more than 3 years living in Omsk, last week I went to visit this aerodrome that everyone had told me about on numerous occasions. Located 60 kilometers outside the city, it is the only aerodrome in the oblast, apart from the airport. My interest in the place was derived from accounts I had heard that, from World War II up to well into the Cold War period, the aerodrome was used as a training center for fighter pilots.

The town of Maryanovka, like many others that line the route of the Trans-Siberian Railway, stretches out the length of the railway line. The town is principally agricultural, with one-storey houses, dwarfed by the enormous granaries that dominate the landscape. Upon entering the town, if it wasn’t for a few imported cars and a new rail station, you would think you had returned to the final years of the USSR; barely-asphalted streets, the odd zhiguli zigzagging through the streets, and reminiscences of the former regime all around.

What really caught my attention in the town was the World War II memorial, the train used by the Red Army during the Russian Civil War, and the occasional picturesque scene, like a cow grazing on the courtyard of a school which still has a huge effigy of Lenin on its facade.

World War II monument    

Just as I was preparing to go in search of the aerodrome, an Antonov An-2 (popularly known as кукурузник (kukuruznik), maize worker, due to its use in agriculture), flew over the town, dropping a couple of sky divers. All I had to do was follow their trajectory to find the landing strip.

Apart from the quagmire you have to cross to get there, the first thing that catches your attention at the aerodrome is its ramshackle appearance, and the untidiness of the place. A rusted sentry box flanked by a hangar and a few barrack huts leads to a field where planes and helicopters from different times are scattered all around.

Above the entrance to the hangar, which looks to have received no maintenance work since it was built, you can still make out typical Soviet slogans like:

“СЛАВА ТРУДУ!”, Glory to work!    

“НАРОД И ПАРТИЯ ЕДИНЫ”, People and party united    

Nowadays, the aerodrome is used by sky divers and aviation enthusiasts. The sky divers use mainly old An-2 aircrafts. This legendary plane, which made its maiden flight in 1947 and was in production for almost 50 years, is the greatest single motor biplane ever made, and is highly rated for its maneuverability and capacity to operate on practically any type of terrain.

An-2 in front the hangar at Maryanovka aerodrome    

In Maryanovka there are half a dozen An-2’s, some of which are in pretty good condition:

Two of the best-preserved An-2    

Apart from the robust “kukuruzniks”, there are a number of aging aircraft at the aerodrome. Among them we found a few Yak-52’s, one of the most outstanding Soviet training planes.

Yak-52 at Maryanovka    

Another interesting model is this L-410 which was operated by Aeroflot in the past, and which continues to display Soviet markings:

The L-410 at Maryanovka    

However, without doubt the most interesting aircraft of all were a group of ten L-29 jet planes. A Czech-built plane adopted by the Eastern Bloc countries as a training jet. Six L-29’s were lined up in a row in one part of the aerodrome:

Six of the L-29’s at Maryanovka    

Although I was told that from time to time they still fly, if the truth be told the L-29’s didn’t look in too good condition. This came as no surprise, seeing as the planes were left out in the open, exposed to the rigor of Siberia’s continental climate.

Another L-29    

The L-29 is the only jet that can be flown by civilians in Russia. Its versatility and take off and landing capacity on runways as primitive as that at Maryanovka make it a highly rated aircraft amongst enthusiasts all over the world. The condition of the aircrafts at the aerodrome strongly contrasts with the completely restored and fully operational versions like those flown by the “Russian Warbirds” in Norway:

Russian Warbirds’ L-29    

Let’s hope that, gradually, the L-29’s at Maryanovka can be restored to past glories like those owned by foreign collectors. The restoration process has already been started on some of them.

Part of the tail of an L-29    

As well as a few recently acquired small light aircraft, the most outstanding machines are a half dozen Mi-2 helicopters, usually used to transport fisherman and hunters to the northern regions.

Mi-2 helicopter used by hunters    

Flying devices apart, something else worth mentioning is the mobile control tower and its clutch of antennas:

Control tower at Maryanovka aerodrome    

Control tower and weather station    

I hope you’ve enjoyed this trip around Maryanovka aerodrome, and if you ever find yourself around these parts, why not throw yourself out of a kukuruznik, or at the very least take a wander around this historic site.

Finally, I leave you with an image of a Yak-52 from Omsk Aero-Club flying over the snowy Siberian Plain in the middle of winter:

Yak-52 flying over Siberia    

You can see these and other photos I took in Maryanovka in the corresponding album of my gallery on Flickr.

If you liked this post, don’t miss:
Cold War blazing skies,
Bringing down planes with balloons and
Buran, from space shuttle to fairground ride

Post translated from the original by: English Metas

Surprisingly, this island is the home to a mysterious herd of wild horses, whose origin is unknown and which has for long intrigued scientists.

Galloping horses from the island of Vodnii    

At the source of the Manych River (one of the main tributaries of the Don), at the point where it reaches the dam at Proletarsk (Пролетарское Водохранилище), you will find Lake Manych-Gudilo. On one of its islands, known as Vodnii (Водный), a large herd of wild horses roams free, of whose origin no one is certain.

The first sightings of wild horses on the island date back to the 1950’s, prior to the dam being opened, when the territory was a peninsula jutting into the lake.

Some say the herd descended from animals used by local shepherds which had gone astray, others that they owe their origin to a small group of horses that broke loose from horse farms by the Don River, and even those that say they are the product of breeders’ experiments, who looked to put the horses to the test, by leaving them to fend for themselves.

Show of strength by two horses on the island of Vodnii    

As time and generations passed by, these horses would quickly come to forget what a saddle or reins were, in short, life in contact with human beings, becoming genuine wild horses, and one of the few communities of its kind to inhabit an island (other examples include Canada’s Sable Island and Chinoteague in the USA).

Another aspect worth pointing out is that the Vodnii horses represent the last pure specimens of the Budyonny breed, animals bred on the initiative of Semyon Budyonny (Семён Будённый), Soviet marshal and cavalry hero of the Russian Revolution, who aimed to create the ideal military horse. These horses stand out for their power and stamina, highly valued for both sporting and traditional dressage.

Precisely what attracts scientists’ attention is the purity and good health of these horses, which despite being the product of procreation between descendants of a small group; show no signs of genetic malformation. It is important to bear in mind that the more than 430 specimens that populated the island (in 2007), originate from a few animals that did not receive “fresh blood“ from outside. Furthermore, another dimension to this enigma is that the population was reduced to around 20, in the late 80s, due to indiscriminate hunting by poachers.

Horses on the island of Vodnii grazing in summer    

The delicate situation of the Vodnii horses changed dramatically in 1995, when the area was declared biosphere reserve and protected habitat. The absence of predators and the seclusion of the island meant that the population grew considerably.

In a few years, the horses became a threat to themselves, and their excessive population exceeded the sustainable capacity of the island. As previously mentioned, on Vodnii, there is no vegetation apart from grass (there are no trees or shrubs), and the salinity levels of the water of the lake are so high as to make it unfit for consumption. The horses’ only source of drinking water is to be found in estuaries formed when it rains, and rainfall that accumulates in ponds formerly for agricultural use and cattle.

The Vodnii horses die of natural causes, from starvation or victims of the islands’ harsh climactic conditions, which experiences fluctuations in temperature ranging from lows of -30ºC in winter, and highs of +40ºC in summer.

Horse’s skeleton on the island of Vodnii    

To ensure the survival of these Russian mustangs, a few years ago a pipe system was installed to pump drinking water to a series of troughs installed on the island. The study of possible measures to regulate the horse population has begun, such as taking animals to other natural habitats and even horse farms.

Horses on the island of Vodnii, drinking from a trough    

Let’s hope that with some human help, this unique treasure of nature can be protected and continue to flourish.

One-month old foal    

In writing this article, I have used photographs from the Rostov Nature Reserve and National Geographic Russia. I have also consulted several online publications and sources: I, II, III.

If you liked this post, don’t miss:
The seven giants of the Urals,
Russia, a country of contrasts and
Buran, from space shuttle to fairground ride

Post translated from the original by: English Metas

But the only ones that feel threatened by its presence are the pacific inhabitants of the area, descendents of those who, ironically, had their lives saved in 1945 thanks to the city that gives its name to the ship.

Current state of the Murmansk cruiser    

The Murmansk (Мурманск) was the last of the light battleships of the Sverdlov class (OTAN designation, project 68-bis according Soviet designation) to be launched, in 1955. During its years of service in the North Sea Fleet it participated in numerous manoeuvres, was part of almost the entire Cold War, and even participated in the War of Attrition between Israel and Egypt, lending its support to the latter.

The Murmansk in the 80s    

After a rather discreet operative life, especially due to the advent of the guided missiles that made these type of ships obsolete, in 1989 the Murmansk was decommissioned and ended up anchored in the Kola Bay (Кольский Залив).

Paradoxically, when it seemed as if our protagonist had already been relegated to the annals of history, abandoned to the mercy of the harsh Arctic weather, is when it became worldwide famous: on Christmas Eve, 1994, after having been sold to an Indian company at the price of scrap metal, a strong storm swept it to the Norwegian coast while it was being tugged on its way to the scrap yard.

The Murmansk after running aground    

After various fruitless attempts to recuperate the hull, the Murmansk ended up aground in front of the village of Sørvær. With an estimated cost of tens of millions of dollars, the rescue operation was a project that no one wanted to take on.

Since then, the old warship has converted into a fairground ride for locals and foreigners: a great place for the town’s fishermen to have a beer, a must-see place for submarine enthusiasts and a mecca of pilgrimage for Russian tourists.

View of the Murmansk at low tide    

Family photo on one of the armoured turrets    

In the last few years, though, the deaths of several sailors from cancer and the warnings sent out by various ecological organizations have put the Murmansk under suspicion of containing radioactive substances. Even though both the Norwegian government and Russian specialists have denied that the battle ship poses a real threat, the area’s inhabitants now don’t see the ship in a favourable light.

Ironically, the ship that threatens the inhabitants of Sørøya has the name of the city that in 1945 served as a means of escape for more than 500 civilians that, fleeing from the German advance, managed to escape to Scotland thanks to the operation known as “Open Door”, in which four destroyers of the Royal British Navy participated and that relied on collaboration with the Soviet Union.

Now, the Murmansk is only visited by brave tourists and descendents of the sailors that once served on it. Like these Russians that went on board the ship last year and left a Soviet Navy flag:

In the following video we can go on board the Soviet cruiser via a few Russian reporters that visited it in the summer of 2008. Don’t miss details like how the canons come to life thanks to the waves. It refers to an extract of this report that I’ve subtitled in English:

While no one intervenes in the matter, the North Sea storms will be the ones in charge of slowly and inexorably turning the Murmansk into scrap metal.

Close-up of the bow of the Murmansk    

If you liked this post, don’t miss:
Cold War blazing skies,
The Cold War Castaways and
When the Soviet Army was in orbit

Post translated from the original by: English Metas

Web Sources: I, II, III, IV, V

The Buran space shuttle    

Last year, taking advantage of a stay in Moscow, I decided to go and visit the Buran (Буран) that is set up in the city’s Gorky Park (Парк Горького, widely known as the Park of Culture, Парк Культуры). Camera in hand, I got ready to see up close one of the legends of the Soviet space program that had intrigued me the most.

Even though I knew that it was inside a fairground, I imagined that such an aeronautics myth would receive the treatment that it deserved and would count on a dignified production, beyond mere entertainment.

Rear view of the Buran space shuttle exhibited in Moscow    

What a letdown! After having paid the admission to the fairground, I already felt my first disappointment: the Buran was at the other extreme of the park, boxed in between fair attractions and the Moskva (Москва) river. But this first disappointment was nothing compared to the state of preservation of the spacecraft and the rundown surroundings.

Side view of the Buran in Gorky Park    

Behind a sentry box that looked like it was made out of tin, the old space shuttle lay accompanied by two of the first trucks that must have been used in Soviet airports as a ladder to access it. On its side was a type of blue bunker that one day must have served as a thematic souvenir shop.

This huge disenchantment would culminate in seeing that, while one side of the surface of the space shuttle seemed to be seriously deteriorated, the other side was simply falling apart piece by piece.

Frontal view of the Buran    

Destroyed side of the space shuttle    

When I thought that nothing could worsen my frustration, I saw that in the sentry box there had appeared a lady ready to sell tickets. Rather naively, I paid the…150 rubles? admission fee to attend a re-creation of the space shuttle’s flight. Upon boarding, I discovered an open space with a handful of ramshackle seats that were supposed to re-create the hustle and bustle of the flight. The “show” was limited to a lamentable video of hardly 10 minutes with four inopportune shakes. A total fiasco.

Rear view of the most damaged side    

Luckily, there are two other Burans that are open to the public in a much more dignified manner, one in the Baikonur cosmodrome and the other in the Technikmuseum of Speyer, Germany.

For those of us that still haven’t been able to travel to these places, we will always have the memory of when the Buran lived its moments of glory atop the Energy (Энергия) launcher:

You can see these and other photos that I took of the Gorky Park Buran in this flickr album.

If you liked this post, don’t miss:
When the Soviet Army was in orbit,
Remembering the first man in space and
The Cold War Castaways

Post translated from the original by: English Metas

The giants of Man-Pupu-Nyor (Мань-Пупу-Нёр) during different times of the year    

The geological formation of Man-Pupu-Nyor (Мань-Пупу-Нёр, that in the Mansi language means “little mountain of the gods”) is found in an inhospitable and remote area of the Komi Republic. The seven stone totems that form this monumental group aren’t only amazing for their location, dimensions, and imposing presence, but also for their incredible forms (some of them are narrower at the base) and whimsical distribution (six are grouped together while the seventh seems to be observing them from afar).

One solitary giant observes the others    

This singular phenomenon, that since time immemorial has been the source of all kinds of fables and legends, originated 200-300 million years ago, when in this place a mountain stood. With the passing of time, erosion caused by rain, wind, freezing, and other meteorological phenomena has continued to wear down the surface until forming the seven pillars currently left standing. In the Urals (one of the oldest mountain ranges on earth) we can find other formations that are similar to Man-Pupu-Nyor, but none of them equal it in either dimension or spectacularity.

View of the group of giants of Man-Pupu-Nyor    

Ancestrally, access to this place had been reserved to shamans of the mansi people. Multiple legends have arisen in its surroundings, in which the common denominator tends to be the clash between a shaman and group of giants. According to one of the most oft-told, a shaman had cast a spell on six evil giants that were trying to cross the mountain range, converting them to stone, but with the bad fortune of also falling victim to the spell, in this way explaining the distribution of the pillars (six grouped together and one apart).

An excursionist by the solitary giant    

Due to its remote location , access to Man-Pupu-Nyor is reserved to very well prepared excursionists or travellers that have access to helicopters or snowmobiles.

Helicopter at Man-Pupu-Nyor    

The extreme continental climate of the region makes the seven stone giants take on a thousand and one faces depending on the time of day and meteorological conditions, in a never ending metamorphosis that doesn’t stop surprising. As an example, here are a couple of winter photos.

Snowmobile by the solitary giant    

Three excursionists at Man-Pupu-Nyor    

Within the links that I have cited in the sources, don’t miss this photographic gallery, the photos of these excursionists in the fog, or these adventurists with skis and shotgun in hand.

If you liked this post, don’t miss:
Cold War blazing skies,
Stalin’s golden cage and
When the Soviet Army was in orbit

Post translated from the original by: English Metas

Web Sources: I, II, III, IV, V,VI

“Glory to our motherland’s brave sons”

The beginning of the odyssey

The morning of January 17, 1960, a Soviet Army barge headed to a dock at Iturup Island, the largest and one of the most southern islands of the Kuril Archipelago, to load its cargo. All of a sudden, when the barge had just finished mooring, a huge storm developed with high waves and hurricane strength winds that broke the rope that docked the barge to land and dragged it into the open ocean.

After several hours of fruitless struggle, the four sailors that were on board decided to give up, taking into account that their weak vessel couldn’t do anything against such inclemency. Captained by the young Sergeant Askhat Ziganshin (Асхат Зиганшин), they opted to turn off the motors and remain adrift, believing that soon enough the storm would relent and they would be rescued. The miserable food reserves that they had shouldn’t be cause for concern.

But the days passed and the storm persisted. With the false conviction that they would be saved soon, they ate the few provisions that they had on board in very little time: a loaf of bread, a couple of cans of stewed meat, and some pig lard; only a handful of fuel oil soaked potatoes and water that came from the motor’s cooling system.

When they had already been knocked around by the waves for four days, Ziganshin read in a newspaper that right then a very large area of the Pacific Ocean had been ordered closed to navigation, due to the imminent test launch of one of the first intercontinental ballistic missiles from Baikonur. This was precisely where their boat was sailing at the storm’s mercy. This news item really shook up the young sailors, not because of the danger that the missile posed, but rather because of the consequent absence of boats that would be able to find them.

R-7 Rocket, first intercontinental ballistic missile. It was used to    
launch Sputnik and became the base of future Soviet launchers. 

Extreme survival

After almost a week on the high seas, calm finally arrived. Ziganshin and his crew went from the most intense hustle and bustle to find themselves floating on a pond, not knowing that the rocket launch had been successfully carried out. Little by little, upon seeing that days went by and no one appeared, the hope of being rescued turned into resignation.

During 35 years, the four sailors would think that no one had searched for them due to the bad weather; but, with documents related to missile launches having been declassified, they later found out that in reality they had been surrounded by other Soviet ships that did not worry about rescuing them, since their only and exclusive objective was to find the remains of the R-7 rocket (semyorka, cемёрка ). In fact, on dry land they thought that the sailors had either disappeared or were deserters, and even sent KGB agents to their relatives’ homes to interrogate them in the search for evidence of desertion.

As days passed by, those fuel oil soaked potatoes piled up in a bucket ending up being a delicacy that would be rationed during more than a month. From February 24 onward, the day that the last potato was eaten, the desperate struggle to stay alive would lead them to eat the most unreal things: beginning with the leather from their watchstraps, belts, boots, and even an accordion; in addition to toothpaste and soap. Everything was well toasted (or rather, charred) and spread with motoroil so that it could be swallowed more easily.

The long awaited rescue

On March 7th, after seven eternal weeks adrift and when the four sailors practically lay dying, the deafening roar of a low flying plane startled them. Soon, an enormous US aircraft carrier rescued them, the USS Kearsarge, that was returning to California after a stay in Japan. Since the beginning of its long voyage, the barge had travelled more than 1500 miles.

Route of the T-36 barge until its rescue

With hardly the strength to move, the four sailors dragged themselves up on deck, where a helicopter helped them to board the aircraft carrier. At first, afraid of being considered traitors for giving themselves up to the enemy, our protagonists thought about refusing to be rescued and in simply asking for help so that they could return on their own. Finally, though, they gave in. They had lost around 30 kilos and, as exhausted as they were, a couple of them even fainted.

Filipp Poplavsky (Филипп Поплавский) and Askhat Ziganshin with an officer from the USS Kearsarge      

On board the USS Kearsarge they received all kind of attention: they were cleaned up, received hot food, tobacco, etc. In the following photos we can see Askhat Ziganshin being shaved and Anatoly Kryuchkovsky (Анатолий Крючковский) with a bowl of food:

As soon as they recovered, the Americans organized a press conference on board the same aircraft carrier to take advantage of the press coverage that the rescue of the Soviet crew would bring. In this conference, to which the Soviet media were not allowed access, everything that happened was recounted and the castaways were offered political asylum. They rejected the offer.

Leap to fame and return to the USSR

Upon their arrival to San Francisco, Ziganshin and his men saw themselves enveloped in a whirlwind of popularity: official receptions, tv interviews, autograph signings, etc. After a visit to the Soviet Consulate, the four sailors began a small tour across the USA before returning to Europe on board the legendary Queen Mary.

Receiving the golden key to the city of San Francisco from the mayor    

Accustomed to the difficult life of their time in the Kurils and after having miraculously escaped death, this jump to stardom seemed more like another surreal mirage.

Meeting the press on the terrace of their hotel      

When they arrived in the USSR, the Soviet propaganda machine became operational. From their descent from the airplane in impeccable new uniforms, the four soldiers attended a multitude of receptions before the most important courts of the country; they were decorated, travelled around the entire country, and were the protagonists of the regime’s news for quite a long period of time. A film was even made based on their story called “49 Days” (49 дней).

Reception with the defence minister Rodion Malinovsky (Родион Малиновский)      

In the following video, you can see a three and a half minute report filmed in 2007 starring Askhat Ziganshin and Anatoly Kryuchkovsky. In it appear images from that time and current ones of the likeable retirees explaining how they ended up eating unthinkable things. Even though the quality of the image isn’t the best, I have subtitled it so that you will be able to enjoy it.

By the way, in addition to the cited links at the bottom of the post, I have also obtained information thanks to an excellent documentary from the Russian TV channel RTR. If anyone is interested in seeing it, please let me know and we will find a way to upload it or send it to you

Post translated from the original by: English Metas

Web sources: I, II, III, IV, V

Under the code name Almaz (Алмаз, Diamond), this military space program would be carried out in the utmost secrecy. The hermeticism was such that the nature of the project would not be revealed until the 90s, after the dissolution of the Soviet Union.

Artistic vision of the space station Almaz

How everything started

In the middle of the 60s, when the Cold War was in one of its most decisive moments after having overcome the Cuban Missile Crisis, both superpowers accelerated even more, if that was possible, the arms race to achieve a dominant position over the adversary.

In the Soviet Union, Nikita Khrushchev (Никита Хрущёв) would receive all kinds of projects by way of the main constructors: long range bombers, submarines, missiles… Among all of the proposals, that which would stand out most is the one formulated by Vladimir Chelomei (Владимир Челомей), pioneer in the construction of missiles and the youngest engineer to be appointed chief constructor, who, instead of proposing the development of weaponry that was already familiar, offered something worthy of science fiction: to combat the enemy from space, by way of orbiting stations capable of permanently monitoring any strategic objective.

In a time when artificial satellites were still very rudimentary, the combination of powerful observation equipment with the knowledge of experienced officials seemed like the ideal solution to carry out a constant monitoring of the enemy and therefore obtain a rapid and precise capacity to respond.

The Almaz Project

This fantastic project presented by Chelomei in 1964 continues to impress even today due to its grandiosity: 20 ton manned space stations would orbit for up to three years around the Earth, providing detailed information of enemies on ground, on water, and in the air; from missile bases to airplanes, including submarines or any other type of military unit. In the following image we can see one of the remaining Almaz stations (the chairs that appear below help give an idea of its dimensions):

Almaz-T, automated version developed in the 80s

To ensure the uninterrupted functioning of the Almaz stations, transporters would be in charge of periodically bringing supplies and replacement cosmonauts (every 90 days). These transporters would include a return capsule so that the relieved crews could return to Earth. Something especially innovative was that the return capsules would be reusable up to ten times (one of them travelled to space and returned successfully three times).

Following is a sketch of the complete Almaz system, just as it was initially conceived. From the left to the right, one can observe the transporter – made up of the return capsule and a freight module – and the space station. Enlarging the image, one can appreciate some of the details, like the layout of the equipment or the figures of the three cosmonauts:

Initial project of the Almaz Soviet military complex

Following the same layout of the previous sketch, in the next photograph we can see the complete Almaz complex:

Proof of coupling between the transporter and the space station

In the following photograph one can see one of the preserved return capsules. Among other details, one can appreciate the retro-rockets located underneath the white cover of the upper end, used to decelerate the capsule during reentry, and, by way of the hatch, the backs of two of the seats that the cosmonauts would occupy:

Return capsule Almaz

Despite the limitations that the Soviet engineers faced (20 tons was the maximum weight that could be put in orbit and 4.1 metres was the maximum diameter of what could be transported in train to Baikonur), they would manage to equip the station with everything imaginable. Within the observation instruments, fourteen cameras especially made for the Almaz stations (one of them gigantic, with a lens of almost 2 metres) stand out. Some of these cameras would be equipped with an ingenious system of mirrors that would allow sharp photographs to be taken despite an orbital velocity of almost 8 km/second.

Next we can see two images of the control panels of the Almaz station. While in the first one two sights and a circular screen stand out, in the second image one can appreciate the strange navigation system used back then, based on a small globe:

Once the desired images were obtained, these were sent to Earth in what could be considered the first space mail parcel. The material was deposited in a 360 kg capsule that was 85 cm in diameter that was subsequently ejected from the station so that it could descend to earth after re-entering the atmosphere:

Process of capsule descent

In order to ensure that the orbiting Almaz stations were authentic impregnable fortresses, they would be equipped with weaponry that could be used both defensively and offensively to bring down satellites or other spaceships. Concretely, they would have a Nudelmann machine gun cannon, similar to those used in aviation, and small space-space missiles. As if they were jet-fighters, to be able to shoot their cannons the Almaz stations should face the objective and, to avoid altering their orbit, turn on propellers that would compensate the recoil caused by the shots.

Close-up of the Nudelmann cannon

After looking at the main characteristics of the Almaz military complex, I invite you to look at the following video that, in a minute and a half, offers a general view of all the equipment. One of the curiosities is the periscope located in the upper part of the station, that would allow the observance of what was going on 360º around the ship and would have been key in the case of having to engage in combat (appears at approximately 00:17). On the contrary of what is stated in this video, this television channel did not have exclusive access to the facilities, since it is possible to visit them.

Evolution of the Almaz Project

Khrushchev was immediately amazed by Chelomei’s project, who Stalin himself had already described as a visionary in his beginnings as a builder of jet engines and rockets. The clearest demonstration of the fascination that Chelomei inspired in Khrushchev is found in the fact that his own son went to work on the constructor’s team of engineers.

The Almaz project would receive the green light a few weeks before Khrushchev was removed from power; not only thanks to the support of the continuing Secretary General of the Communist Party , but also due to the challenge that, months before, American president Lyndon Johnson had put forth, by announcing that the United States was working on a Manned Orbital Laboratory (MOL) so that the US Air Force could explore the possibilities of soldiers in space.

Artistic vision of the Manned Orbital Laboratory

But not everything was going to be easy for Chelomei. After Khrushchev left power, Brezhnev named as the Secretary of the Central Committee of the CPSU in charge of military affairs a man who would be Chelomei’s personal cross to bear: Dmitri Ustinov (Дмитрий Устинов), from then on the person in charge of supervising the development of the Almaz project.

The first notable tension between them would arise when Ustinov ordered that the first Almaz station should be launched in April, 1970, to commemorate the centennial of Lenin’s birth. Aware that such a deadline was not feasible, Chelomei asked over and over again that this date be postponed; especially after the accident that just three years earlier would cost Vladimir Komarov (Владимир Комаров) his life, who died aboard the Soyuz 1 due to technical problems, presumably caused by the rushed launching caused by another important date: May 1.

In December of 1969, when the USSR felt defeated because of the US moon landing and it was clear that Chelomei would not be able to meet the deadline to launch the first orbital station, Ustinov delivered the most serious blow that the Almaz Project would receive: he ordered Chelomei’s team to cede its project to the deceased Sergei Koroliov’s team, led then by Vasily Mishin (Василий Мишин), so that he could be the one in charge of launching the first manned space station, a new challenge in the space race between both superpowers. That is how, what would be known as, the Salyut Program was born, that had carrying out scientific investigations related with life in space as its mission.

In April of 1971, a year later than the date demanded by Ustinov, the long awaited moment arrived: the first manned space station orbited around the earth, after the Soyuz 11 spaceship coupled with the Salyut 1 space station, and its crew would live in it for 23 days. With this great feat, the USSR achieved a new victory over the US space program, that wouldn’t put its first and only space station (Skylab) into orbit until 1973. Unfortunately, the Soyuz 11 cosmonauts died upon re-entry, when their capsule depressurized.

Crew of the Soyuz 11 space ship: Dobrovolsky, Patsayev, and Volkov

In spite of what one may think, the Salyut program did not mark the end of the Almaz project. The Central Committee of the CPSU saw a great step in the armaments race in the military stations proposed by Chelomei, in that they were an excellent way of keeping an eye on the enemy, guiding intercontinental missiles with precision, and taking military control of space. As a result, Chelomei’s team received full financing so that, using the Salyut program as a front, they could launch several Almaz stations with exclusively military purposes.

While the engineers worked on the development of the stations, Chelomei personally led the selection process and training of the cosmonauts that would man them. Prominent officials of all of the armies and specialties would be recruited. In this way they wanted to have available cosmonauts that would be specialized in the different types of objectives on which they would carry out espionage missions.

Officials selected for the Almaz Project

Of the nine space stations launched under the Salyut Program, three would be Almaz military stations: Salyut 2, Salyut 3, and Salyut 5. The first of them, launched in April of 1973, ended in failure, after not having reached the anticipated orbit and the cosmonauts that were supposed to occupy it had to remain on Earth, finally seeing how the station was destroyed upon reentry to the earth’s atmosphere.

On June 25, 1974, the second Almaz space station was launched successfully under the name of Salyut 3. On board were the high precision cameras mentioned previously. Thanks to the giant camera Agat, the cosmonauts could even make out what planes were found on the deck of an aircraft carrier. During the time that it was in orbit, not only were the cameras tried out, but also every type of recognizance device. The images obtained were successfully sent inside the “mail capsule”. This station was also equipped with the weaponry previously mentioned and, before being sent out of orbit in January of 1975, the machine gun cannon was successfully fired (with the station on autopilot) against a decoy satellite put into orbit especially for the occasion. Although two coupling operations failed, the final result was considered a great success. In the following photograph we can see how this second Almaz station was inspected before its launch. Evidently, nothing gave it away as an Almaz military station since the word Salyut was labelled on the outside as on the other spaceships.

Space station Salyut 3, second Almaz military station

In June of 1976 what would be the last manned Almaz station, Salyut 5, was launched. Even though this mission was also a success, the technological improvements that had continued to develop regarding observation material made it not worthwhile to continue sending cosmonauts, since the same functions could be undertaken by automatic satellites. Since then, manned orbital stations would be destined for scientific purposes.

Post translated from the original by: English Metas

Web sources: I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII

Even though this blog was born with a relaxed spirit, without a pressing need to publish for the sake of publishing, a series of problems and changes in my life necessitated the postponement of the following post for about 16 eternal months.

Coinciding with this return, I would like to recover the initial approach of the blog by taking on a wider range of topics, giving it a more personal touch, and trying to maintain a harmonious balance between a great variety of articles, with regards to both content and length.

Bright decoration in the streets of Prypiat, Ukraine

Before getting on with new entries, I would like to express my deepest gratitude for English Metas and Metaverso, the two companies that have made possible this long awaited return by providing the translation of my articles originally published in Spanish at sovietrussia.es.

Thanks a lot to Carlos López from Metaverso for answering to my desperate call asking for help to keep the English version of my blog alive, as well as to Andrew Funk and all his team at English Metas – Carmen Oko, Kevin Deegan and Mario Bracamontes – for their dedicated work and commitment.

Keep tuning into Soviet Russia. Very soon there will be new stories on your monitors

About the photo: the author is Lindsay Fincher. In her travels throughout Eastern Europe, her trip through the Chernobyl accident affected zone stands out.

Although we will go deeper into Gagarin and first manned space flight stories in future posts, I would like to share with you some selected commemorative videos.

Yuri Gagarin during the training phase

First of all, some great footage -regretfully without sound- which I found at the web page that the Russian “National archives of scientific and technological documentation” devoted to Yuri Gagarin on the 70th anniversary of his birth. We can see how the cosmonaut gets dressed in his spacesuit, goes by bus to the launch site together with Gherman Titov (backup cosmonaut), greets with several officers and Sergey Korolyov (head engineer of the Soviet space program), gets on board the Vostok 1 and takes off:

The next video begins with a Soviet newscast that gives way to the transmission between Sergey Korolyov and Gagarin prior to the the launch. Once they’ve checked the radio is working fine, Korolyov tells him to ignite the engines, afterwards to apply full power and wishes him a good flight. While the rocket takes off, it’s possible to hear the famous shout uttered by Gagarin: Поехали! (Let’s go!)

This video is an outer take of the launch, in which the deafening roar of the engines almost doesn’t let hear the talk between Gagarin and the control center . The spectacular blazes and noise make the cosmonaut’s shout sound specially hair-rising:

Finally, an endearing video that begins with Gagarin describing what he can see through the window: the Earth, its forests, rivers, clouds… followed by a roundup of the welcome given to Gagarin in the USSR and all over the world, while we listen a song devoted to him:

By the way, as you may have noticed, on the occasion of Gagarin’s flight anniversary, he has replaced Sir Winston Churchill at the header of the blog. Moreover, thanks to updating to WordPress 2.5, Soviet Russia’s RSS Feed won’t be cut off anymore.

Stay tuned to Soviet Russia… my next post will be also devoted to space. But it won’t be about famous events, but a secret soviet military project… to be continued

Maria Leontievna Bochkareva

From misfortune to legend

Maria Leontievna Bochkareva was born in 1889 to a modest family off the city of Novgorod, in European Russia. She had to work for wages since the age of eight, married when fifteen and moved to the Siberian city of Tomsk. When her husband began drinking heavily and assaulting her, she ran away with her lover, which would follow despite he was exiled to Yakutsk, in the Russian Far East. As time went by, this second relationship would end up deteriorated too because of her lover’s alcoholism and abuses.

First World War broke out in Europe in 1914, while Bochkareva was living badly in Siberia. News from the front aroused in her a deep patriotic spirit and yearning to join the army. She didn’t want just to cooperate working in the rear, as many other women did, but wished to go to the frontline to fight for her motherland: “Day and night my imagination carried me to the fields of battle, and my ears rang with the groans of my wounded brethren … The spirit of sacrifice took possession of me. My country called me. An irresistible force from within pulled me.” Such patriotic fervor and feel like going to fight had probably its origin in a way to escape from her thwarted life and to address all her energies and strong-minded spirit, which had already led her to be the forewoman of over twenty workers.

She made up her mind to join the army and turned up to the 25th Tomsk Reserve Battalion. Her application would be almost completely ignored. In those days the military command didn’t consider to enroll women in the army and in no way a peasant woman coming out from nowhere. Not only she didn’t give up, but showed off her tenacity and sent a telegram to the Tsar Nicholas II himself, which would answer affirmatively to her demand thereby opening the gates of the army to her.

If trying to join the army was a difficult task, none the less was that the other soldiers treated her in a respectful way, since they used to make a fool of her time and again. But all jokes would come to an end as within weeks her battalion was sent to the battlefield. Bochkareva would fight with all ferocity for almost two years and a half, taking part in bayonet charges against the German trenches, joining reconnaissance squads, rescuing comrades in-arms under the enemy fire, and so on. Although she was wounded four times -two of them quite seriously- she always would come back to the frontline to fight with an unrivaled courage.

Trench after a battle

The exploits of Yashka (nickname given to Bochkareva by her fellow soldiers) were not unnoticed and she would be decorated several times. Among the medals received must be pointed out the Cross of St. George, which was the highest distinction that a Russian soldier may get for his heroism. Not before long, the story of this modern Joan of Arc aroused the interest of the press, which turned her into a popular icon, a legend in her own lifetime.

The women’s battalions of death

The February Revolution of 1917, the abdication of the tsar and the slogans of the Bolsheviks claiming to withdraw from World War I brought a great distress and uneasiness to the Russian troops, exhausted and emaciated due to a war going on for more than two years and a half and hundreds of thousands of casualties. The interim government was deeply concerned about how to face this situation. Eventually, they found inspiration in the French Revolution and decided that the war had to go on, trying to match the revolutionary theories with the commitment held with their allies and the defense of the country.

One of the measures taken in order to motivate the troops was to establish the so called ‘battalions of death’, storm troops units consisting of volunteers which should be an example to follow for the remaining soldiers. Taking into account this initiative, Bochkareva went one step further and would suggest to form battalions made up out-and-out by women. What could be more humiliating to soldiers than to see women go to fight where they didn’t dare? After an audience that took place in Petrograd (current Saint Petersburg), the Kerensky government acceded to Yashka’s demand and she immediately issued a moving appeal to all Russian women.

All kind of women answered by thousands to the call to arms and volunteered to enroll the future women’s battalion of death, so called to be determined to fight until the end and never step backwards. Not in vain the badge of these combat units was made up with a skull and crossbones. Moreover, all those women took with them some cyanide pills, to kill themselves in case they might be seized by the enemy.

Recruits queuing to have their hair cut off

It can’t be denied that they looked really martial and defiant:

The haste of the war didn’t allow the drill be extended for a long time. During the few weeks available Bochkareva would supervise all the process personally. She would be very strict with her subordinates and even expel those who didn’t meet her requirements.

Bochkareva supervising practices at a shooting range

Although no exact figure is available, it is estimated that between 5,500 and 6,500 women fought in the Russian Army during the Great War. From the first 3,000 recruits would come out two battalions and several units. Bochkareva commanded the First Women’s Battalion of Death.

Bochkareva and the First Women’s Battalion of Death

In spite of the resolution of Yashka and her women fellows, their contribution to the war was not outstanding; not for lack of courage, but because they had no experience in combat and were left alone against the enemy. In the first and last battle of Bochkareva’s battalion, most of the men soldiers remained hidden down in the trenches while women launched an attack towards the German lines. As soon as shots and explosions started, many of the women were scared to death and threw their arms away. Bochkareva was wounded and taken to hospital.

While Yashka was recovering, the October Revolution started and again another battalion of women soldiers stood alone; in this occasion to protect the Winter Palace together with a squad of invalids, some cyclists and a bunch of young cadets. Although must be pointed out that they remained at their posts until the end, their performance was once again in vain as they easily surrended to the Bolsheviks that assaulted the building.

Exhausted after so many years at the front and disappointed by the poor performance of the women’s battalions, Bochkareva refused the command to arrange her units again and decided to go back to Tomsk. She wasn’t just tired, furthermore she didn’t want to take part in the upcoming fratricidal civil war.

On her way home, Bochkareva was arrested in Petrograd and later on taken in the presence of Lenin and Trotsky. They would insist on the idea that she should join the Bolsheviks, since if they could have counted on her – the well known peasant hero admired by all the people – that would have meant an important backing to their cause. Although both revolutionary leaders kept on trying to Bochkareva and that she was detained so she could think it over, Yashka held her ground in her decision to go back home. Finally, she was released.

From fight to international diplomacy

As time went bye, tiredness gave way to nostalgia of the exploits and glory achieved during her years in the army. Little by little, Bochkareva went into a downward spiral of booze and depression, as she was convinced that no one needed or just remembered about her anymore.

All of a sudden, she got a message from general Kornilov, leader of the contra-revolutionary White Army and former Commander in Chief of the interim government’s army. The concise message just said: “Come at once, we need you”. Bochkareva would manage to meet with the general going through the Bolshevik lines disguised as a sister of mercy.

Kornilov and his men were suffocated by the Red Army and badly needed outer financial and military aid to resist. Bochkareva would be the perfect ambassador to get that help, thanks to her charisma and worldwide known legend. She accepted like a shot to go to the US and the UK and within a few days she set sail to San Francisco from Vladivostok.

On arriving to the United States Bochkareva was in the spotlight. Everybody wished to meet the soldier woman, the Russian Joan of Arc, to hear the countless stories that went before her, which had been written by the war correspondents in Russia. Bochkareva would be on tour in the US over a month being interviewed and attending public events held in her honor.

Illustrated report in the New York Times

In the end, after a tight scheduled trip and once she dictated her memoirs to a Russian journalist who lived in New York, arrived the most expect moment to Bochkareva: meeting with the US president Woodrow Wilson. He would attend very thrilled to the account of Yashka about her war experiences and to her request for help. The meeting ended with the president’s pledge to help the contra-revolutionary army.

From America Bochkareva set off to the United Kingdom and once there, together with Emmeline Pankhurst, the leader of the suffragettes, she succeeded in meeting with Winston Churchill, the Secretary of State for War, and later on with king George V. Again, there was a mounting excitement both among the press and the British people, but the political outcome was certainly poor, in comparison with the one obtained in the United States. Although Bochkareva had been in tune with Churchill, her meeting with the king would be very short and not so much profitable, marred partly due to the news that general Kornilov had died.

Maria Bochkareva and Emmeline Pankhurst

Return and sentence to death

On getting to Russia, Bochkareva was received by the remaining forces of the White Army, which would thank her as she tried to do her best in order to get the so long awaited aid. In those days, Yashka the soldier could not help her comrades at all. Casualties were increasing day in day out, so that sanitary battalions were more helpful than the military ones. Thus, the last order she was given was to set up teams of volunteers in order to attend wounded soldiers.

Not before long, the Bolsheviks burst through the frontline and the White Army officers would beat a retreat, leaving wounded soldiers and medical volunteers to their fate. Then, when nothing could be done, Bochkareva, morally and physically exhausted, went back to her home in Tomsk, where she would withdraw into herself and visit regularly a church searching for inner tranquility.

Determined to bury her fighting past, Bochkareva went to a post of the Red Army to hand over her revolver. Her presence raised a few eyebrows among the Bolshevik soldiers who eventually released the legendary Yashka… but not for a long time, because later on she was arrested following Chekas’s orders (soviet secret security service), being charged of being an enemy of the people. After a summary trial she was executed on May 16, 1920.

Sources: I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX