Volodya did not have a walkie-talkie, there were no new “bells and whistles” in the form of dry alcohol, drinking straws and other junk. There was not even unloading; he did not take the bulletproof vest himself. Volodya had only his grandfather’s old hunting carbine with captured German optics, 30 rounds of ammunition, a flask of water and cookies in his quilted jacket pocket. Yes, there was a hat with ear flaps - it was shabby. The boots, however, were good; after last year’s fishing, he bought them at a fair in Yakutsk, right on the rafting trip to Lena from some visiting traders.

This is how he fought for the third day. A sable hunter, an 18-year-old Yakut from a distant reindeer camp. It had to happen that I came to Yakutsk for salt and ammunition, accidentally saw in the dining room on TV piles of corpses of Russian soldiers on the streets of Grozny, smoking tanks and heard some words about “Dudaev’s snipers.” This got into Volodya’s head, so much so that the hunter returned to the camp, took his earned money, and sold the little gold he had found. He took his grandfather’s rifle and all the cartridges, put the icon of St. Nicholas the Saint in his bosom and went to fight the Yakuts for the Russian cause.

It’s better not to remember how I was driving – about how I sat in the bullpen three times, how many times my rifle was taken away. But still, a month later, the Yakut Volodya arrived in Grozny.

Finally, the Yakut was lucky and got to the general headquarters.

The only document he had, besides his passport, was a handwritten certificate from the military commissar stating that Vladimir Kolotov, a hunter by profession, was going to war, signed by the military commissar. The piece of paper, which had become frayed on the road, had saved his life more than once.

General Rokhlin, surprised that someone came to the war on at will, ordered the Yakut to come to him.

Volodya, squinting at the dim lights blinking from the generator, causing his slanted eyes to blur even more, like a bear, walked sideways into the basement of the old building, which temporarily housed the general’s headquarters.

- Excuse me, please, are you that General Rokhlya? – Volodya asked respectfully.

“Yes, I’m Rokhlin,” answered the tired general, who peered inquisitively at a short man dressed in a frayed padded jacket, with a backpack and a rifle on his back.

- Would you like some tea, hunter?

- Thank you, Comrade General. I haven't had a hot drink for three days. I won't refuse.

Volodya took his iron mug out of his backpack and handed it to the general. Rokhlin poured him tea to the brim.

– I was told that you came to the war on your own. For what purpose, Kolotov?

“I saw on TV how the Chechens were killing our people with snipers. I can't stand this, Comrade General. It's a shame, though. So I came to bring them down. You don't need money, you don't need anything. I, Comrade General Rokhlya, will go hunting at night myself. Let them show me the place where they will put the cartridges and food, and I will do the rest myself. If I get tired, I’ll come back in a week, sleep in a warm place for a day, and go again. You don't need a walkie-talkie or anything like that... it's hard.

Surprised, Rokhlin nodded his head.

- Take, Volodya, at least a new SVDashka. Give him a rifle!

“No need, Comrade General, I’m going out into the field with my scythe.” Just give me some ammo, I only have 30 left now...

So Volodya began his war, the sniper war.

He slept for a day in the headquarters cabins, despite the mine shelling and terrible artillery fire. I took ammunition, food, water and went on my first hunt. They forgot about him at headquarters. Only reconnaissance regularly brought cartridges, food and, most importantly, water to the appointed place every three days. Each time I was convinced that the parcel had disappeared.

The first person to remember Volodya at the headquarters meeting was the “interceptor” radio operator.

– Lev Yakovlevich, the “Czechs” are in panic on the radio. They say that the Russians, that is, we, have a certain black sniper who works at night, boldly walks through their territory and shamelessly cuts down their personnel. Maskhadov even put a price of 30 thousand dollars on his head. His handwriting is like this - this fellow hits Chechens right in the eye. Why only in the eye - who knows...

And then the staff remembered about the Yakut Volodya.

“He regularly takes food and ammunition from the cache,” the intelligence chief reported.

“And so we didn’t exchange a word with him, we didn’t even see him even once.” Well, how did he leave you on the other side...

One way or another, the report noted that our snipers also give their snipers a light. Because Volodin’s work gave such results - from 16 to 30 people were killed by the fisherman with a shot in the eye.

The Chechens realized that a Russian fisherman had appeared on Minutka Square. And since all the events of those events took place on this square terrible days, then a whole detachment of Chechen volunteers came out to catch the sniper.

Then, in February 1995, at Minutka, the “federals,” thanks to Rokhlin’s cunning plan, had already crushed Shamil Basayev’s “Abkhaz” battalion by almost three-quarters of its personnel. Volodya’s Yakut carbine also played a significant role here. Basayev promised a golden Chechen star to anyone who would bring the body of a Russian sniper. But the nights passed in unsuccessful searches. Five volunteers walked along the front line in search of Volodya’s “beds” and placed tripwires wherever he could appear in direct view of their positions. However, this was a time when groups from both sides broke through the enemy’s defenses and penetrated deeply into their territory. Sometimes it was so deep that there was no longer any chance to break out to our own people. But Volodya slept during the day under the roofs and in the basements of houses. The corpses of Chechens – the night “work” of a sniper – were buried the next day.

Then, tired of losing 20 people every night, Basayev called from the reserves in the mountains a master of his craft, a teacher from the camp for training young shooters, the Arab sniper Abubakar. Volodya and Abubakar could not help but meet in a night battle, such are the laws of sniper warfare.

And they met two weeks later. More precisely, Abubakar hit Volodya with a drill rifle. A powerful bullet, which once killed Soviet paratroopers right through in Afghanistan at a distance of one and a half kilometers, pierced the padded jacket and slightly caught the arm, just below the shoulder. Volodya, feeling the rush of a hot wave of oozing blood, realized that the hunt had finally begun for him.

The buildings on the opposite side of the square, or rather their ruins, merged in Volodin's optics into single line. “What sparkled, the optics?” thought the hunter, and he knew cases when a sable saw a sight glinting in the sun and went away. The place he chose was located under the roof of a five-story residential building. Snipers always like to be on top so they can see everything. And he lay under the roof - under a sheet of old tin, he was not wet by the wet snow rain, which kept coming and then stopping.

Abubakar tracked down Volodya only on the fifth night - he tracked him down by his pants. The fact is that the Yakuts had ordinary, cotton pants. This is an American camouflage worn by the Chechens, impregnated with a special composition, in which the uniform was invisible in night vision devices, and the domestic one glowed with a bright light green light. So Abubakar “identified” the Yakut into the powerful night optics of his “Bur”, custom-made by English gunsmiths back in the 70s.

One bullet was enough, Volodya rolled out from under the roof and fell painfully with his back on the steps of the stairs. “The main thing is that I didn’t break the rifle,” thought the sniper.

- Well, that means a duel. Yes, Mr. Chechen sniper! - the Yakut said to himself mentally without emotion.

Volodya specifically stopped shredding the “Chechen order.” The neat row of 200s with his sniper “autograph” was cut short. “Let them believe that I was killed,” Volodya decided.
All he did was look out for where the enemy sniper got to him from.

Two days later, already in the afternoon, he found Abubakar’s “bed”. He also lay under the roof, under a half-bent roofing sheet on the other side of the square. Volodya would not have noticed him if the Arab sniper had not been betrayed by a bad habit - he was smoking marijuana. Once every two hours, Volodya caught a light bluish haze through his optics, rising above the roofing sheet and immediately being carried away by the wind.

“So I found you, abrek! You can't live without drugs! Good...,” the Yakut hunter thought triumphantly. He did not know that he was dealing with an Arab sniper who had passed through both Abkhazia and Karabakh. But Volodya did not want to kill him just like that, by shooting through the roofing sheet. This was not the case with snipers, and even less so with fur hunters.

“Okay, you smoke while lying down, but you’ll have to get up to go to the toilet,” Volodya decided calmly and began to wait.

Only three days later did he figure out that Abubakar was crawling out from under a leaf in right side, and not to the left, quickly gets the job done and returns to the “bed”. To “get” the enemy, Volodya had to change the shooting point at night. He couldn't do anything anew; any new roofing sheet would immediately give away the sniper's position. But Volodya found two fallen logs from the rafters with a piece of tin a little to the right, about 50 meters from his point. The place was excellent for shooting, but very inconvenient for a “bed”. For two more days Volodya looked out for the sniper, but he did not show up. Volodya had already decided that the enemy had left for good, when the next morning he suddenly saw that he had “opened up.” Three seconds of aiming with a slight exhalation, and the bullet hit the target. Abubakar was struck on the spot in the right eye. For some reason, against the impact of the bullet, he fell flat from the roof onto the street. Big grease stain blood spread across the mud on the square of Dudayev's palace.

“Well, I got you,” Volodya thought without any enthusiasm or joy. He realized that he had to continue his fight, showing his characteristic style. To prove that he is alive and that the enemy did not kill him a few days ago.

Volodya peered through his optics at the motionless body of the slain enemy. Nearby he saw a “Bur”, which he did not recognize, since he had never seen such rifles before. In a word, a hunter from the deep taiga!

And then he was surprised: the Chechens began to crawl out onto open place to pick up the sniper's body. Volodya took aim. Three people came out and bent over the body.

“Let them pick you up and carry you, then I’ll start shooting!” - Volodya triumphed.

The three of the Chechens actually lifted the body. Three shots were fired. Three bodies fell on top of the dead Abubakar.

Four more Chechen volunteers jumped out of the ruins and, throwing away the bodies of their comrades, tried to pull out the sniper. A Russian machine gun started working from the side, but the bursts fell a little higher, without causing harm to the hunched Chechens.

“Oh, mabuta infantry! You’re just wasting cartridges...” thought Volodya.

Four more shots rang out, almost merging into one. Four more corpses had already formed a pile.

Volodya killed 16 militants that morning. He did not know that Basayev had given the order to get the Arab’s body at all costs before it began to get dark. He had to be sent to the mountains to be buried there before sunrise, as an important and respectable Mujahid.

A day later, Volodya returned to Rokhlin’s headquarters. The general immediately received him as a dear guest. The news of the duel between two snipers had already spread throughout the army.

- Well, how are you, Volodya, tired? Do you want to go home?

Volodya warmed his hands at the stove.

“That’s it, Comrade General, I’ve done my job, it’s time to go home.” Begins spring work at the camp. The military commissar only released me for two months. My two younger brothers worked for me all this time. It's time to know...

Rokhlin nodded his head in understanding.

- Take a good rifle, my chief of staff will draw up the documents...

- For what? I have my grandfather’s... - Volodya lovingly hugged the old carbine.

The general did not dare to ask the question for a long time. But curiosity got the better of me.

– How many enemies did you defeat, did you count? They say that more than a hundred... Chechens were talking to each other.

Volodya lowered his eyes.

– 362 people, Comrade General.

Rokhlin silently patted the Yakut on the shoulder.

- Go home, we can handle it ourselves now...

- Comrade General, if anything happens, call me again, I’ll sort out the work and come a second time!

On Volodya’s face one could read frank concern for everything. Russian Army.

- By God, I’ll come! The Order of Courage found Volodya Kolotov six months later. On this occasion, the entire collective farm celebrated, and the military commissar allowed the sniper to go to Yakutsk to buy new boots - the old ones had worn out in Chechnya. A hunter stepped on some pieces of iron. On the day when the whole country learned about the death of General Lev Rokhlin, Volodya also heard about what happened on the radio. He drank alcohol on the premises for three days. He was found drunk in a temporary hut by other hunters returning from hunting. Volodya kept repeating drunk: “Nothing, Comrade General Rokhlya, if necessary we will come, just tell me...

After Vladimir Kolotov left for his homeland, scum in officer uniform sold his information to Chechen terrorists, who he was, where he came from, where he went, etc. The Yakut Sniper inflicted too many losses on the evil spirits. Vladimir was killed by a shot from 9 mm. pistol in his yard while he was chopping wood. The criminal case was never solved...
This is how the story of this young boy ended...BUT A HERO!!!

Kolotov Vladimir Maksimovich, sniper: biography

Vladimir Kolotov - in his own way unique person. A simple hunter, without any coercion, only at the call of his heart and sense of justice, he went to the combat zone in Chechnya, wanting to become a sniper. For a long time his feat remained unknown, but this man from Yakutia was responsible for many killed militants and saved the lives of Russian soldiers.

Making a fateful decision.

Vladimir Maksimovich Kolotov (Evenk by nationality), whose biography is still shrouded in secrets, as an eighteen-year-old boy, hunted with his father in a Yakut village Iengra.

According to the calendar, it was 1995 - the height of the first Chechen war. Out of necessity, the boy ended up in a local canteen, where he planned to get salt and ammunition. By chance, at that moment there was a news broadcast on TV showing Russian soldiers killed at the hands of Chechen militants.

The footage he saw had a stunning effect on Volodya. Finding himself back in the camp, for a long time he could not move away from what he saw in the episode, because the corpses of dead servicemen flashed before his eyes.

The young hunter could no longer lead a normal life, remaining indifferent to the numerous deaths of Russian soldiers. He made a fateful decision, which was to contribute to terrible war.

Vladimir Kolotov collected all his few savings and went to the front lines in Chechnya. As a patron he took with him a small icon of St. Nicholas.

Not an easy road The eighteen-year-old boy failed to reach his final destination without incident. The police constantly tried to confiscate his grandfather's rifle, imposed fines, and threatened to take all his savings and send him back to the taiga. For several days the young hunter was even locked in the bullpen. However, Vladimir Kolotov showed persistence and managed to break through to the positions of the Russian military within one month.

Volodya had only heard about one general who was regularly fighting in Chechnya, and he began to look for him in the February mudslide. Finally, the Yakut was lucky and got to the general’s headquarters Lev Yakovlevich Rokhlin.

The only document besides his passport was a handwritten certificate from the military commissar stating that Vladimir Kolotov, a hunter by profession, was heading to war, signed by the military commissar. The piece of paper, which had become frayed on the road, had saved his life more than once.
Rokhlin, surprised that someone came to the war of his own free will, ordered the Yakut to be allowed to come to him.

Volodya, squinting at the dim lights blinking from the generator, causing his slanted eyes to blur even more, like a bear, walked sideways into the basement of the old building, which temporarily housed the general’s headquarters.
- Excuse me, please, are you that General Rokhlya? - Volodya asked respectfully.
“Yes, I’m Rokhlin,” answered the tired general, who peered inquisitively at a short man dressed in a frayed padded jacket, with a backpack and a rifle on his back.
- Would you like some tea, hunter?
- Thank you, Comrade General. I haven't had a hot drink for three days. I won't refuse.

Volodya took his iron mug out of his backpack and handed it to the general. Rokhlin himself poured him tea to the brim.
- I was told that you came to the war on your own. For what purpose, Kolotov?
- I saw on TV how the Chechens were killing our people with snipers. I can't stand this, Comrade General. It's a shame, though. So I came to bring them down. You don't need money, you don't need anything. I, Comrade General Rokhlya, will go hunting at night myself. Let them show me the place where they will put the cartridges and food, and I will do the rest myself. If I get tired, I’ll come back in a week, sleep in the warmth for a day and go again. You don't need a walkie-talkie or anything like that... it's hard.
Surprised, Rokhlin nodded his head.
- Take, Volodya, at least a new SVDashka. Give him a rifle!

It's not a bad machine, but it's heavy. One word - paddle...

TTX rifles

• SVD caliber - 7.62 mm
• Initial bullet speed - 830 m/s
• Weapon length - 1225 mm
• Rate of fire - 30 rounds/min
• Ammunition supply is provided by a box magazine (10 rounds)
• Cartridge - 7.62×54 mm
• Weight with optical sight and charged - 4.55 kg
• Barrel length - 620 mm
• Rifling - 4, right direction
• Sighting range - 1300 m
• Effective range - 1300 m.

Enlistment in the army

After finding out all the circumstances why a young hunter from a Yakut village ended up here, the general was sincerely amazed by his heroism. At that time, people who could sacrifice their lives absolutely selflessly were rare. The recruit was assigned to the role of sniper and given time to rest. During the day, Vladimir Kolotov slept in the cabin of a military truck, to the constant sounds of explosions. And then he took cartridges for his rifle and left for the position. He was offered a new SVD rifle, but the young Evenk hunter decided not to change his grandfather’s gun.

three-line rifle model 1891 (with optical sight)

Technical characteristics of the Mosin rifle (TTX)

• Weapon weight 4.5 kg;
• Length without bayonet 130 cm;
• Length with attached bayonet 173 cm;
• Barrel length 51 - 80 cm;
• Caliber 7.62 mm or 3 lines by the standards of Imperial Russia;
• Type of cartridges used: 7.62*54;
• Rate of fire 55 rounds per minute;
• The bullet starts at a flight speed of 870 m/s;
• Sighting range with optics is 2 km.
• The destructive power of the Mosin rifle is 3000 m.

The main enemy for Chechen militants

Since leaving for the sniper position, no news has been received from Vladimir Kolotov to the location of the Russian army. Thanks to the efforts of the scouts, he was regularly replenished with food and ammunition, but no one caught sight of him. They even managed to forget about the strange guy from the Yakut village. News about Volodya came not from himself, but from the enemy. Some time later, thanks to intercepted negotiations at the Russian headquarters, it became known that the militants were in commotion. For the Chechens in the Minutka Square area, their quiet life is over.

Now the night time has turned into absolute hell. It was after this that the Russian military remembered the Evenk hunter. It was Vladimir Kolotov who caused the panic of the Chechens. The sniper was distinguished by his special style - he shot in the eye. Reports of the deaths of militants were received on a constant basis; on average, about 15-30 people died every night at the hands of a young hunter from a Yakut village. In an effort to eliminate the dangerous sniper, the leadership of the Chechen militants promised their fighters a lot of money and high awards. So, at headquarters A Slana Maskhadov Volodya's head was given 30,000 dollars. Shamil Basayev, in turn, he promised to give a gold star to the one who was lucky enough to kill the marksman.

A. Maskhadov Sh. Basaev

This was due to the fact that the strength of the battalion of one of the leaders of the Chechen militants, Vladimir Maksimovich Kolotov, was significantly reduced. The sniper caused enormous damage to manpower every night. An entire detachment was sent to neutralize the Evenk hunter, but their efforts were ineffective.

Confrontation with Abubakar

Realizing that they could not cope with a well-aimed Russian sniper on their own, the Chechens decided to resort to the help of the Arab Abubakar, who lived in the mountains and had previously trained shooters for militants.

It took him ten days to track down Vladimir Kolotov. And it was his own clothes that gave the young Evenk hunter away. An ordinary quilted jacket and quilted trousers are clearly visible at night if used special equipment. With the help of night vision devices, Abubakar discovered Volodya by his luminous clothes and lightly wounded him in the arm, slightly below the shoulder. As a result of being hit by the first sniper bullet, Vladimir Maksimovich Kolotov fell from the position he occupied, but managed to escape from the second shot. After falling from the roof, the young Evenk hunter was glad that his rifle did not break. After his wound, the sniper realized that a real hunt had begun for him.

Revenge with the Arab sniper

• I took ammunition, food, water and went on my first “hunt”. They forgot about him at headquarters. Only reconnaissance regularly brought cartridges, food and, most importantly, water to the appointed place every three days. Each time I was convinced that the parcel had disappeared.

  The first person to remember Volodya at the headquarters meeting was the “interceptor” radio operator.
  - Lev Yakovlevich, the “Czechs” are in panic on the radio. They say that the Russians, that is, we, have a certain black sniper who works at night, boldly walks through their territory and shamelessly cuts down their personnel. Maskhadov even put a price of 30 thousand dollars on his head. His handwriting is like this - this fellow hits Chechens right in the eye. Why only by sight - the dog knows him...
  And then the staff remembered about the Yakut Volodya. “He regularly takes food and ammunition from the cache,” the intelligence chief reported.

And so we didn’t exchange a word with him, we didn’t even see him even once. Well, how did he leave you on the other side...
One way or another, the report noted that our snipers also give their snipers a light. Because Volodin’s work gave such results - from 16 to 30 people per night were killed by the fisherman with a shot in the eye.
The Chechens realized that a Russian fisherman had appeared on Minutka Square. And since all the events of those terrible days took place in this square, a whole detachment of Chechen volunteers came out to catch the sniper.
Then, in February 1995, at Minutka, the “federals,” thanks to Rokhlin’s cunning plan, had already crushed Shamil Basayev’s “Abkhaz” battalion by almost three-quarters of its personnel. Volodya’s Yakut carbine also played a significant role here.

Basayev promised a golden Chechen star to the one who brought the corpse of the Russian sniper. But the nights passed in unsuccessful searches. Five volunteers walked along the front line in search of Volodya’s “beds”, placing tripwires wherever he could appear in the direct line of sight of their positions. However, this was a time when groups from both sides broke through the enemy’s defenses and penetrated deeply into its territory. Sometimes it was so deep that there was no longer any chance to break out to our own people. But Volodya slept during the day under the roofs and in the basements of houses. The corpses of Chechens - the night "work" of a sniper - were buried the next day.
Then, tired of losing 20 people every night, Basayev called from the reserves in the mountains a master of his craft, a teacher from the camp for training young shooters, the Arab sniper Abubakar. Volodya and Abubakar could not help but meet in a night battle, such are the laws of sniper warfare.

They met two weeks later. More precisely, Abubakar hit Volodya with a drill rifle. A powerful bullet, which once killed Soviet paratroopers right through in Afghanistan at a distance of one and a half kilometers, pierced the padded jacket and slightly caught the arm, just below the shoulder. Volodya, feeling the rush of a hot wave of oozing blood, realized that the hunt had finally begun for him.
The buildings on the opposite side of the square, or rather their ruins, merged into a single line in Volodya's optics.

“What sparkled, the optics?” thought the hunter, and he knew cases when a sable saw a sight glinting in the sun and went away. The place he chose was located under the roof of a five-story residential building.
Snipers always like to be on top so they can see everything. And he lay under the roof - under a sheet of old tin, the wet snow rain, which kept coming and then stopping, did not wet it.

Abubakar tracked down Volodya only on the fifth night - he tracked him down by his pants. The fact is that the Yakuts had ordinary, cotton pants. This is an American camouflage worn by the Chechens, impregnated with a special composition, in which the uniform was invisible in night vision devices, and the domestic one glowed with a bright light green light. So Abubakar “identified” the Yakut into the powerful night optics of his “Bur”, custom-made by English gunsmiths back in the 70s.

One bullet was enough, Volodya rolled out from under the roof and fell painfully with his back on the steps of the stairs. “The main thing is that I didn’t break the rifle,” thought the sniper.
- Well, that means a duel, yes, Mr. Chechen sniper! - the Yakut said to himself mentally without emotion.

Volodya specifically stopped shredding the “Chechen order.”

The neat row of 200s with his sniper “autograph” on the eye stopped.
“Let them believe that I was killed,” Volodya decided.

All he did was look out for where the enemy sniper got to him from.

Two days later, already during the day, he found Abubakar’s “bed”.

He also lay under the roof, under a half-bent roofing sheet on the other side of the square. Volodya would not have noticed him if the Arab sniper had not been betrayed by a bad habit - he was smoking marijuana. Once every two hours, Volodya caught in his optics a light bluish haze that rose above the roofing sheet and was immediately carried away by the wind.

“So I found you, abrek! You can’t live without drugs! Good...” the Yakut hunter thought triumphantly; he did not know that he was dealing with an Arab sniper who had passed through both Abkhazia and Karabakh. But Volodya did not want to kill him just like that, by shooting through the roofing sheet. This was not the case with snipers, and even less so with fur hunters.
“Okay, you smoke while lying down, but you’ll have to get up to go to the toilet,” Volodya decided calmly and began to wait.
Only three days later did he figure out that Abubakar was crawling out from under the leaf to the right side, and not to the left, quickly did the job and returned to the “bed”. To “get” the enemy, Volodya had to change the shooting point at night. He couldn't do anything anew; any new roofing sheet would immediately give away a new sniper position.
But Volodya found two fallen logs from the rafters with a piece of tin a little to the right, about fifty meters from his point. The place was excellent for shooting, but very inconvenient for a “bed”. For two more days Volodya looked out for the sniper, but he did not show up. Volodya had already decided that the enemy had left for good, when the next morning he suddenly saw that he had “opened up”.
Three seconds of aiming with a slight exhalation, and the bullet hit the target.

Abubakar was struck on the spot in the right eye. For some reason, against the impact of the bullet, he fell flat from the roof onto the street. A large, greasy stain of blood spread across the mud in the square of Dudayev’s palace, where an Arab sniper was killed on the spot by one hunter’s bullet.
“Well, I got you,” Volodya thought without any enthusiasm or joy. He realized that he had to continue his fight, showing his characteristic style. To prove that he is alive and that the enemy did not kill him a few days ago.
Volodya peered through his optics at the motionless body of the slain enemy. Nearby he saw and "Boer", which he never recognized, since he had never seen such rifles before.

In a word, a hunter from the deep taiga!
And then he was surprised: the Chechens began to crawl out into the open to take the sniper’s body. Volodya took aim. Three people came out and bent over the body.
“Let them pick you up and carry you, then I’ll start shooting!” - Volodya triumphed.
The three Chechens actually lifted the body. Three shots were fired. Three bodies fell on top of the dead Abubakar.
Four more Chechen volunteers jumped out of the ruins and, throwing away the bodies of their comrades, tried to pull out the sniper. A Russian machine gun started working from the side, but the bursts fell a little higher, without causing harm to the hunched Chechens.
“Oh, mabuta infantry! You’re just wasting ammunition...” thought Volodya.
Four more shots sounded, almost merging into one. Four more corpses had already formed a pile.
Volodya killed 16 militants that morning. He did not know that Basayev had given the order to get the Arab’s body at all costs before it began to get dark. He had to be sent to the mountains to be buried there before sunrise, as an important and respectable Mujahid.
A day later, Volodya returned to Rokhlin’s headquarters. The general immediately received him as a dear guest. The news of the duel between two snipers had already spread throughout the army.
- Well, how are you, Volodya, tired? Do you want to go home?
Volodya warmed his hands at the stove.
- That’s it, Comrade General, I’ve done my job, it’s time to go home. Spring work at the camp begins. The military commissar only released me for two months. My two younger brothers worked for me all this time. It's time to know...
Rokhlin nodded his head in understanding.
- Take a good rifle, my chief of staff will draw up the documents...
- Why, I have my grandfather’s. - Volodya lovingly hugged the old carbine.
* Volodya had a faithful one - with an old-style faceted breech with a long barrel, an “infantry rifle” from 1891.

The general did not dare to ask the question for a long time. But curiosity got the better of me.
- How many enemies did you defeat, did you count? They say that more than a hundred... Chechens were talking to each other.
Volodya lowered his eyes.
- 362 people, Comrade General. Rokhlin, silently, patted the Yakut on the shoulder.
- Go home, we can handle it ourselves now...
- Comrade General, if anything happens, call me again, I’ll sort out the work and come a second time!
Volodya’s face showed frank concern for the entire Russian Army.
- By God, I’ll come!
The Order of Courage found Volodya Kolotov six months later. On this occasion, the entire collective farm celebrated, and the military commissar allowed the sniper to go to Yakutsk to buy new boots - the old ones had become worn out in Chechnya. A hunter stepped on some pieces of iron.
On the day when the whole country learned about the death of General Lev Rokhlin, Volodya also heard about what happened on the radio. He drank alcohol on the premises for three days. He was found drunk in a temporary hut by other hunters returning from hunting. Volodya kept repeating drunk:
- It’s okay, Comrade General Rokhlya, if necessary we will come, just tell me...
He was sobered up in a nearby stream, but from then on Volodya no longer wore his Order of Courage in public.
After Vladimir Kolotov left for his homeland, scum in officer uniform sold his information to Chechen terrorists, who he was, where he came from, where he went, etc. The Yakut Sniper inflicted too many losses on the evil spirits.

Vladimir was killed by a shot from 9 mm. pistol in his yard while he was chopping wood. The criminal case was never solved.

For the first time I heard the legend of Volodya the sniper, or as he was also called - Yakut (and the nickname is so textured that it even migrated to the famous television series about those days).

Moreover, the most amazing thing is that in the story about Volodya the sniper amazingly there was an almost letter-by-letter similarity with the story of the great sniper Vasily Grigorievich Zaitsev(killed 225 fascists in Stalingrad), who put to death in Stalingrad the major, head of the Berlin sniper school G Einz Torvald.

V.G. Zaitsev

To be honest, I then perceived it as... well, let's say, like folklore - at a rest stop - and it was believed and not believed.
Then there was a lot of things, as, indeed, in any war, which you won’t believe, but turns out to be TRUE. Life is generally more complex and unexpected than any fiction.
Later, in 2003-2004, one of my friends and comrades told me that he personally knew this guy, and that indeed HE WAS. Whether there was that same duel with Abubakar, and whether the Czechs actually had such a super-sniper, to be honest, I don’t know, they had enough serious snipers, and especially in the First Campaign. And the weapons were serious, including South African KSVs, and ours (including B-94, which were just entering the pre-series, the spirits already had, and with the numbers of the first hundreds

CHARACTERISTICS OF THE SNIPER RIFLE

Caliber 12.7x108 mm

Operating principle of automatic gas exhaust, rotating shutter

Weight 11.7 kg

with stock unfolded 1700 mm

with folded stock 1100 mm

Barrel length 1020 mm

Sighting range 2000 m (600 m with night vision device)

Rate of fire 350 rounds per minute

Magazine capacity 5 rounds

Sighting device modification PSO-1 with 13x magnification, designation unknown

How they ended up with them is a separate story, but nevertheless, the Czechs had such trunks. And they themselves made semi-handicraft SCVs near Grozny.)

Volodya the Yakut really worked alone, he worked exactly as described - by eye. And the rifle he had was exactly the one described - an old Mosin three-line rifle of pre-revolutionary production, with a faceted breech and a long barrel - an infantry model of 1891.
The real name of Volodya-Yakut is Vladimir Maksimovich Kolotov, originally from the village of Iengra in Yakutia. However, he himself is not a Yakut, but an Evenk.

End of participation in the war

After the end of hostilities, General Rokhlin thanked Volodya for the assistance provided. According to some reports, 362 militants were killed by the carbine of an Evenk hunter. However, the number of enemy losses could have been significantly higher, because no one was keeping an accurate count, and the sniper himself did not boast of his combat achievements. Since the Evenk hunter fought on a voluntary basis, he did not have any obligations to the Russian army. Therefore, after the service, Vladimir Kolotov ended up in the infirmary. The sniper, after regaining his health, returned to his native village.

Meeting with Dmitry Medvedev in the Kremlin

When the president Russian Federation was Dmitry Medvedev, the whole country again learned about the marksman sniper from a Yakut village. Vladimir Maksimovich Kolotov received an invitation to visit the Kremlin to meet with the Supreme Commander-in-Chief. I came from a distant corner of Russia not with empty handed Vladimir Kolotov. Although his biography was shrouded in mystery, it was known that he was a real Evenk who honored the traditions of his people. As a gift from the northern inhabitants, he presented Dmitry Medvedev with a reindeer, symbolizing prosperity and prosperity. According to Evenki customs, the animal waited for the Russian president in Volodya’s native village until he arrived for him. However, the Supreme Commander-in-Chief never took his deer, deciding that the animal would be more comfortable in its familiar environment. In addition to the deer, the family of Vladimir Kolotov presented the president with a paizu - a tablet with a special inscription. For his heroism and services during the First Chechen War, Vladimir Kolotov, whose photo was subsequently seen by the whole country, was awarded Order of Courage.

So, 10 years later, the award found its hero. To the family of an outstanding sniper Russian President handed over Order of "Parental Glory"

During the First Chechen War, they talk about Volodya Yakut, an Evenk sniper from the taiga who killed 362 militants in two months. Where has modern Vasily Zaitsev gone? [C-BLOCK]

Road to Grozny

At the height of the First Chechen War, during fierce battles for the city of Grozny, the commander of the 8th Guards Corps, General Lev Rokhlin, was informed that some strange guy was asking to come to his headquarters, and even with an old rifle. The strange guy turned out to be the Evenk Vladimir Maksimovich Kolotov from the distant Yakut Iengra. He was wearing a hunting sheepskin coat, and with him a Mosin system carbine of the 1891 model, a German sniper scope from the Second World War, a passport and a certificate from the military registration and enlistment office. [C-BLOCK]

Vladimir said that he got to Grozny on his own. Once he saw on TV footage from Chechnya: a destroyed city, killed Russian soldiers. Then he took the Mosin carbine, with which his father and before that his grandfather had gone into the taiga to hunt fur-bearing animals, and went to the 8th Corps to “ good general" Evenk said that on the road he encountered considerable difficulties: they tried to detain him and return him home, but everywhere he was helped out by a certificate from the military commissar stating that Vladimir was going to war as a volunteer.

General Rokhlin was very surprised by Kolotov’s story: in 1995 it was not easy to find a person who, of his own free will, would go to the hell of Grozny. The shooter received the position of sniper and the standard Dragunov rifle, but the Evenk refused, saying that he would be more comfortable with his own Mosinka.

Minute Square

It is known that snipers in modern warfare do not act alone: ​​usually a whole group “works”, assisted by spotter-observers. This format was not suitable for Kolotov; he went specifically to hunt for militants. Evenk only asked that military scouts leave food, water and rifle cartridges for him once a day in an agreed hiding place, and he himself began to prepare ambushes “for the beast.”

Russian radio operators had the opportunity to regularly listen to militants' radio communications. From them, the command learned what a terrible force the eighteen-year-old hunter from Yakutia had become: on Minutka Square he “filmed” fifteen, twenty, or even thirty militants every day. The sniper had a characteristic “handwriting” - all the victims were killed with a precise hit in the eye, as if the hunter wanted to keep valuable animal fur unharmed. The successes of Volodya Yakut, as he was called in the federal troops, deprived the Chechen commanders of sleep, because the shooter hit his targets even at night. [C-BLOCK]

They say that valuable rewards were placed on Volodya’s head: Aslan Maskhadov promised the man who killed the Evenk thirty thousand dollars, and Shamil Basayev - the star of the Hero of Chechnya. A whole squad of militants was chasing the shooter, who were looking for the hunter’s “rookeries” and setting tripwires. Despite the promised generous prizes, Volodya Yakut invariably won the game, leaving all the hunters for his head with a neat bullet hole in his eye.

In order to destroy the successful Russian, the Arab master Abubakar was called from the rebel rifle training camp. He became famous as a good sniper back in Afghanistan, where he ended up on instructions from Pakistani intelligence. Now Abubakar had to hunt for Volodya Yakut in the ruins of Grozny with a powerful rifle, custom-made back in the 1970s. Soon the Arab managed to track down the Russian shooter. Volodya was wounded, but not fatally: the bullet hit his arm. Evenk decided to temporarily stop his hunt for militants so that the rebel commanders would believe that he had been killed.

While Volodya’s “mosinka” was silent, he diligently tracked down Abubakar. The master of camouflage and street fighting was let down by a small weakness: back in the 1980s, the Arab shooter became addicted to light smoking drugs, and now, even in cold Grozny, he could not deny himself this pleasure. It was by the light haze of the rolled-up cigarette that Vladimir Kolotov determined where Abubakr’s “rookery” was located. When he had to leave his cover for a while, Kolotov, with constant accuracy, killed the enemy with a hit in the eye. [C-BLOCK]

To save the body of the mercenary, the rebel commanders sent several combat groups, but all sixteen militants were killed outright from the famous Kolotovo carbine. Thus ended the duel, which in its intensity and surroundings was reminiscent of the confrontation between Vasily Zaitsev and SS Standartenführer Heinz Thorwald in Stalingrad at the end of 1942.

Path of the Legend

The day after the duel with Abubakar, Volodya Yakut visited General Rokhlin. There he said that the two-month period for which the military commissar had released him had expired, and now he needed to return home. The general, who had already heard about Volodya’s victories, asked how many “animals” the hunter had destroyed. Evenk replied that in less than two months he managed to kill 362 militants.

This figure ends the main part of the legend about Volodya Yakut. Urban legends, as they are commonly called, had to appear during this difficult time, when it was difficult to figure out who was right and who was wrong. There is no evidence that the Evenki sniper Vladimir Maksimovich Kolotov actually existed: the photographs show other people, and in reports and reports the sniper does not appear either under his real name or under his “code” name. The legend is also continued by the fact that Volodya Kolotov, who returned to his homeland, continued to engage in fur farming and had a hard time with the death of General Rokhlin, who was killed in July 1998, and refused to wear the Order of Courage. [C-BLOCK]

The story about Volodya Yakut usually ends in the early 2000s, when he was killed at his fishery by unknown persons who allegedly bought information about his whereabouts from the Russian special services. Others argue that Vladimir Kolotov did not become a victim of hired killers, but received a reception from President Dmitry Medvedev in 2009, presenting the head of state with gifts from his people. In support of this version, they even cite personnel from the delegation from Yakutia, however, this can hardly be considered reliable evidence.

Much in the legend about Volodya Yakut may raise doubts: for example, how did a man armed with a combat rifle get from Yakutia to Grozny, and then ask for leave from the active army and calmly return home? And the details of his confrontation with Abubakar are very reminiscent of the struggle between Zaitsev and Torvald in Stalingrad.

Whether Volodya Yakut really existed or not, where he disappeared to is difficult to say with certainty. One thing is certain: in 1994-1995 there were people who were ready to courageously defend the tranquility of their country. The legend Volodya Yakut tells about all of them.

Vladimir Kolotov is a unique person in his own way. A simple hunter, without any coercion, only at the call of his heart and sense of justice, he went to the combat zone in Chechnya, wanting to become a sniper. For a long time, his feat remained unknown, but this man from Yakutia was responsible for many killed militants and saved the lives of Russian soldiers.

Making a fateful decision

Vladimir Maksimovich Kolotov, whose biography is still shrouded in secrets, as an eighteen-year-old boy, hunted with his father in the Yakut village of Iengra. According to the calendar, it was 1995 - the height of the year. By necessity, the boy found himself in a local canteen, where he planned to get salt and ammunition. By chance, at that moment there was a news broadcast on TV showing Russian soldiers killed at the hands of Chechen militants. The footage he saw had a stunning effect on Volodya.

Finding himself back in the camp, for a long time he could not move away from what he saw in the episode, because the corpses of dead servicemen flashed before his eyes. The young hunter could no longer lead a normal life, remaining indifferent to the numerous deaths of Russian soldiers. He made a fateful decision, which was to contribute to a terrible war. Vladimir Kolotov collected all his few savings and went to the front lines in Chechnya. As a patron, he took with him a small icon of St. Nicholas.

Not an easy road

The eighteen-year-old boy failed to reach his final destination without incident. The police constantly tried to confiscate his grandfather's rifle, imposed fines, and threatened to take all his savings and send him back to the taiga. For several days the young hunter was even locked in the bullpen. However, Vladimir Kolotov showed persistence and managed to break through to the positions of the Russian military within one month. General Rokhlin, whom he sought to get to during his journey, was given a certificate from the military commissar. It was the rather tattered certificate that repeatedly saved Volodya from various troubles.

Enlistment in the army

After finding out all the circumstances why a young hunter from a Yakut village ended up here, the general was sincerely amazed by his heroism. At that time, people who could sacrifice their lives absolutely selflessly were rare.

The recruit was assigned to the role of sniper and given time to rest. During the day, Vladimir Kolotov slept in the cabin of a military truck, to the constant sounds of explosions. And then he took cartridges for his rifle and left for the position. They offered him a new one, but the young Evenk hunter decided not to change his grandfather’s weapon.

The main enemy for Chechen militants

Since leaving for the sniper position, no news has been received from Vladimir Kolotov to the location of the Russian army. Thanks to the efforts of the scouts, he was regularly replenished with food and ammunition, but no one caught sight of him. They even managed to forget about the strange guy from the Yakut village.

News about Volodya came not from himself, but from the enemy. Some time later, thanks to intercepted negotiations at the Russian headquarters, it became known that the militants were in commotion. For the Chechens in the Minutka Square area, their quiet life is over. Now the night time has turned into And after this, the Russian military remembered the Evenk hunter. It was Vladimir Kolotov who caused the panic of the Chechens. The sniper was distinguished by his special style - he shot in the eye. Reports of the deaths of militants were received on a constant basis; on average, about 15-30 people died every night at the hands of a young hunter from a Yakut village.

In an effort to eliminate the dangerous sniper, the leadership of the Chechen militants promised their fighters a lot of money and high rewards. So, at Maskhadov’s headquarters they gave 30,000 dollars for Volodya’s head. Shamil Basayev, in turn, promised to give a gold star to the one who was lucky enough to kill a marksman. This was due to the fact that the strength of the battalion of one of the leaders of the Chechen militants, Vladimir Maksimovich Kolotov, was significantly reduced. The sniper caused enormous damage to manpower every night. An entire detachment was sent to neutralize the Evenk hunter, but their efforts were ineffective.

Confrontation with Abubakar

Realizing that they could not cope with a well-aimed Russian sniper on their own, the Chechens decided to resort to the help of the Arab Abubakar, who lived in the mountains and had previously trained shooters for militants. It took him ten days to track down Vladimir Kolotov. And it was his own clothes that gave the young Evenk hunter away. An ordinary quilted jacket and quilted trousers are clearly visible at night if you use special equipment. With the help of night vision devices, Abubakar discovered Volodya by his luminous clothes and lightly wounded him in the arm, slightly below the shoulder.

As a result of being hit by the first sniper bullet, Vladimir Maksimovich Kolotov fell from the position he occupied, but managed to escape from the second shot. After the fall, the Evenk hunter was glad that his rifle did not break. After his wound, the sniper realized that a real hunt had begun for him.

Revenge with the Arab sniper

He agreed to answer the challenge and left the militants alone for a certain period of time. Vladimir Kolotov acted as if he were hunting in his village, namely: he hid and waited for the enemy to give himself away. The Arab fighter's weakness gave him away. Abubakar's favorite pastime was smoking marijuana. However, killing the Arab turned out to be a difficult task. Volodya’s opponent had enormous combat experience and for three days did not stick his head out from his position. Hoping that Vladimir Maksimovich Kolotov had gone home, the militant sniper decided to leave the shelter, for which he paid with a bullet in the eye. Subsequently, while trying to take the Arab’s corpse, three Chechen militants lost their lives. In total, 16 opponents were killed near the dead Abubakar.

End of participation in the war

After the end of hostilities, he thanked Volodya for the assistance provided. According to some reports, 362 militants were killed by the carbine of an Evenk hunter. However, the number of enemy losses could have been significantly higher, because no one was keeping an accurate count, and the sniper himself did not boast of his combat achievements. Since the Evenk hunter fought on a voluntary basis, he did not have any obligations to the Russian army. Therefore, after the service, Vladimir Kolotov ended up in the infirmary. The sniper, after regaining his health, returned to his native village.

Meeting with Dmitry Medvedev in the Kremlin

When Dmitry Medvedev was the President of the Russian Federation, the whole country again learned about the marksman sniper from a Yakut village. Vladimir Maksimovich Kolotov received an invitation to visit the Kremlin to meet with the Supreme Commander-in-Chief.

Vladimir Kolotov did not come empty-handed from a distant corner of Russia. Although his biography was shrouded in mystery, it was known that he was a real Evenk who honored the traditions of his people. As a gift from the northern inhabitants, he presented Dmitry Medvedev with a reindeer, symbolizing prosperity and prosperity. According to Evenki customs, the animal waited for the Russian president in Volodya’s native village until he arrived for him. However, he never took his deer, deciding that the animal would be more comfortable in its familiar environment. In addition to the deer, the family of Vladimir Kolotov presented the president with a paizu - a tablet with a special inscription.

For his heroism and services during the First Chechen War, Vladimir Kolotov, whose photo was later seen by the whole country, was awarded the Order of Courage. So, 10 years later, the award found its hero. The Russian President presented the Order of Parental Glory to the family of the outstanding sniper.

18-year-old Yakut Volodya from a distant deer camp was a sable hunter. It had to happen that I came to Yakutsk for salt and ammunition, and accidentally saw piles of corpses in the dining room on TV Russian soldiers on the streets of Grozny, smoking tanks and some words about “Dudaev’s snipers.” This got into Volodya’s head, so much so that the hunter returned to the camp, took his earned money, and sold the little gold he had found. He took his grandfather’s rifle and all the cartridges, put the icon of St. Nicholas the Saint in his bosom and went to fight. It’s better not to remember how I was driving, how I sat in the bullpen, how many times my rifle was taken away. But, nevertheless, a month later the Yakut Volodya arrived in Grozny.

Volodya had only heard about one general who was regularly fighting in Chechnya, and he began to look for him in the February mudslide. Finally, the Yakut was lucky and reached the headquarters of General Rokhlin. The only document besides his passport was a handwritten certificate from the military commissar stating that Vladimir Kolotov, a hunter by profession, was heading to war, signed by the military commissar. The piece of paper, which had become frayed on the road, had saved his life more than once. Rokhlin, surprised that someone came to the war of his own free will, ordered the Yakut to be allowed to come to him. - Excuse me, please, are you that General Rokhlya? - Volodya asked respectfully.

Yes, I’m Rokhlin,” answered the tired general, who peered inquisitively at a short man dressed in a frayed padded jacket, with a backpack and a rifle on his back. - I was told that you came to the war on your own. For what purpose, Kolotov? - I saw on TV how the Chechens were killing our people with snipers. I can't stand this, Comrade General. It's a shame, though. So I came to bring them down. You don't need money, you don't need anything. I, Comrade General Rokhlya, will go hunting at night myself. Let them show me the place where they will put the cartridges and food, and I will do the rest myself. If I get tired, I’ll come back in a week, sleep in the warmth for a day and go again. You don't need a walkie-talkie or anything like that... it's hard. Surprised, Rokhlin nodded his head.

Take, Volodya, at least a new SVDashka. Give him a rifle! - No need, Comrade General, I’m going out into the field with my scythe. Just give me some ammunition, I only have 30 left now... So Volodya began his war, the sniper war. He slept for a day in the headquarters cabins, despite the mine shelling and terrible artillery fire. I took ammunition, food, water and went on my first “hunt”. They forgot about him at headquarters. Only reconnaissance regularly brought cartridges, food and, most importantly, water to the appointed place every three days. Each time I was convinced that the parcel had disappeared. The first person to remember Volodya at the headquarters meeting was the “interceptor” radio operator. - Lev Yakovlevich, the “Czechs” are in panic on the radio. They say that the Russians, that is, we, have a certain black sniper who works at night, boldly walks through their territory and shamelessly cuts down their personnel.

Maskhadov even put a price of 30 thousand dollars on his head. His handwriting is like this - this fellow hits Chechens right in the eye. Why only by sight - the dog knows him... And then the staff remembered about the Yakut Volodya. “He regularly takes food and ammunition from the cache,” the intelligence chief reported. “And so we didn’t exchange a word with him, we didn’t even see him even once.” Well, how did he leave you on the other side then... One way or another, the report noted that our snipers also give their snipers a light. Because Volodin’s work gave such results - from 16 to 30 people were killed by the fisherman with a shot in the eye. The Chechens figured out that the federals had a commercial hunter on Minutka Square. And since the main events of those terrible days took place in this square, a whole detachment of Chechen volunteers came out to catch the sniper.

Then, in February 1995, at Minutka, thanks to Rokhlin’s cunning plan, our troops had already reduced almost three-quarters of the personnel of the so-called “Abkhaz” battalion of Shamil Basayev. Volodya’s Yakut carbine also played a significant role here. Basayev promised a golden Chechen star to anyone who would bring the body of a Russian sniper. But the nights passed in unsuccessful searches. Five volunteers walked along the front line in search of Volodya’s “beds”, placing tripwires wherever he could appear in the direct line of sight of their positions. However, this was a time when groups from both sides broke through the enemy’s defenses and penetrated deeply into its territory. Sometimes it was so deep that there was no longer any chance to break out to our own people.

But Volodya slept during the day under the roofs and in the basements of houses. The corpses of Chechens - the night "work" of a sniper - were buried the next day. Then, tired of losing 20 people every night, Basayev called from the reserves in the mountains a master of his craft, a teacher from a camp for training young shooters, the Arab sniper Abubakar. Volodya and Abubakar could not help but meet in a night battle, such are the laws of sniper warfare. And they met two weeks later. More precisely, Abubakar hit Volodya with a drill rifle. A powerful bullet, which once killed Soviet paratroopers right through in Afghanistan at a distance of one and a half kilometers, pierced the padded jacket and slightly caught the arm, just below the shoulder.

Volodya, feeling the rush of a hot wave of oozing blood, realized that the hunt had finally begun for him. The buildings on the opposite side of the square, or rather their ruins, merged into a single line in Volodya's optics. “What sparkled, the optics?” thought the hunter, and he knew cases when a sable saw a sight glinting in the sun and went away. The place he chose was located under the roof of a five-story residential building. Snipers always like to be on top so they can see everything. And he lay under the roof - under a sheet of old tin, the wet snow rain, which kept coming and then stopping, did not wet it. Abubakar tracked down Volodya only on the fifth night - he tracked him down by his pants. The fact is that the Yakuts had ordinary, cotton pants. This is an American camouflage, which was often worn by Chechens, impregnated with a special composition, in which the uniform was indistinctly visible in night vision devices, and the domestic uniform glowed with a bright light green light.

So Abubakar “identified” the Yakut into the powerful night optics of his “Bur”, custom-made by English gunsmiths back in the 70s. One bullet was enough, Volodya rolled out from under the roof and fell painfully with his back on the steps of the stairs. “The main thing is that I didn’t break the rifle,” thought the sniper. - Well, that means a duel, yes, Mr. Chechen sniper! - the Yakut said to himself mentally without emotion. Volodya specifically stopped shredding the “Chechen order.” The neat row of 200s with his sniper “autograph” on the eye stopped.
“Let them believe that I was killed,” Volodya decided. All he did was look out for where the enemy sniper got to him from. Two days later, already during the day, he found Abubakar’s “bed”. He also lay under the roof, under a half-bent roofing sheet on the other side of the square. Volodya would not have noticed him if the Arab sniper had not been betrayed by a bad habit - he was smoking marijuana.

Once every two hours, Volodya caught in his optics a light bluish haze that rose above the roofing sheet and was immediately carried away by the wind. “So I found you, abrek! You can’t live without drugs! Good...” the Yakut hunter thought triumphantly; he did not know that he was dealing with an Arab sniper who had passed through both Abkhazia and Karabakh. But Volodya did not want to kill him just like that, by shooting through the roofing sheet. This was not the case with snipers, and even less so with fur hunters. “Okay, you smoke while lying down, but you’ll have to get up to go to the toilet,” Volodya decided calmly and began to wait. Only three days later did he figure out that Abubakar was crawling out from under the leaf to the right side, and not to the left, quickly did the job and returned to the “bed”. To “get” the enemy, Volodya had to change his position at night. He couldn't do anything anew, because any new roofing sheet would immediately give away his new location.

But Volodya found two fallen logs from the rafters with a piece of tin a little to the right, about fifty meters from his point. The place was excellent for shooting, but very inconvenient for a “bed”. For two more days Volodya looked out for the sniper, but he did not show up. Volodya had already decided that the enemy had left for good, when the next morning he suddenly saw that he had “opened up”. Three seconds of aiming with a slight exhalation, and the bullet hit the target. Abubakar was struck on the spot in the right eye. For some reason, against the impact of the bullet, he fell flat from the roof onto the street. A large, greasy stain of blood spread across the mud in the square of Dudayev’s palace, where an Arab sniper was killed on the spot by one hunter’s bullet. “Well, I got you,” Volodya thought without any enthusiasm or joy.

He realized that he had to continue his fight, showing his characteristic style. To prove that he is alive and that the enemy did not kill him a few days ago. Volodya peered through his optics at the motionless body of the slain enemy. Nearby he saw a “Bur”, which he did not recognize, since he had never seen such rifles before. In a word, a hunter from the deep taiga! And then he was surprised: the Chechens began to crawl out into the open to take the sniper’s body. Volodya took aim. Three people came out and bent over the body. “Let them pick you up and carry you, then I’ll start shooting!” - Volodya triumphed. The three Chechens actually lifted the body. Three shots were fired. Three bodies fell on top of the dead Abubakar. Four more Chechen volunteers jumped out of the ruins and, throwing away the bodies of their comrades, tried to pull out the sniper.

A Russian machine gun started working from the side, but the bursts fell a little higher, without causing harm to the hunched Chechens. Four more shots sounded, almost merging into one. Four more corpses had already formed a pile. Volodya killed 16 militants that morning. He did not know that Basayev had given the order to get the Arab’s body at all costs before it began to get dark. He had to be sent to the mountains to be buried there before sunrise, as an important and respectable Mujahid. A day later, Volodya returned to Rokhlin’s headquarters. The general immediately received him as a dear guest. The news of the duel between two snipers had already spread throughout the army. - Well, how are you, Volodya, tired? Do you want to go home? Volodya warmed his hands at the stove. - That’s it, Comrade General, I’ve done my job, it’s time to go home. Spring work at the camp begins. The military commissar only released me for two months.

My two younger brothers worked for me all this time. It's time to know... Rokhlin nodded his head understandingly. - Take a good rifle, my chief of staff will draw up the documents... - Why, I have my grandfather’s. - Volodya lovingly hugged the old carbine. The general did not dare to ask the question for a long time. But curiosity got the better of me. - How many enemies did you defeat, did you count? They say that more than a hundred... Chechens were talking to each other.
Volodya lowered his eyes. - 362 militants, Comrade General. - Well, go home, now we can handle it ourselves... - Comrade General, if anything happens, call me again, I’ll sort out the work and come a second time! Volodya’s face showed frank concern for the entire Russian Army. - By God, I’ll come!

The Order of Courage found Volodya Kolotov after some time. On this occasion, the entire collective farm celebrated, and the military commissar allowed the sniper to go to Yakutsk to buy new boots - the old ones had become worn out in Chechnya. A hunter stepped on some pieces of iron. On the day when the whole country learned about the death of General Lev Rokhlin, Volodya also heard about what happened on the radio. He drank alcohol on the premises for three days. He was found drunk in a temporary hut by other hunters returning from hunting. Volodya kept repeating drunk: “Nothing, Comrade General Rokhlya, if necessary we will come, just tell me...

Here’s what else I found online about Volodya, the hero of the First Chechen War:
"...Later, in 2003-2004, one of my friends and comrades told me that he personally knew this guy, and that indeed HE WAS. Whether there was that same duel with Abubakar, and whether the Czechs actually had such a super sniper, to be honest, I don’t know, they had enough serious snipers, and especially in the First Campaign. And there were serious weapons, including South African SSVs, and porridge (including prototypes of the B-94, which were just entering pre-series, the spirits already had, and with numbers in the first hundred - Pakhomych will not let you lie.

“The Kolotov family from the Yakut reindeer herding village of Iengra made the President happy with valuable gifts. Medvedev presented them with the Order of Parental Glory and the Order of Courage, to which one of the Kolotovs, Vladimir Maksimovich, a former sniper, was nominated during the Chechen War, but the awards immediately after various reasons did not take place. The well-deserved reward finally found the hero and the grateful Yakuts decided not to remain in debt.

Immediately after the award, the family of the Evenk hunter-trader presented the President with a panel made by rural craftswomen and a symbol of power - paizu - an imperative plaque with a special inscription. But the attraction of reindeer herders’ generosity did not end there either. The Kolotovs also decided to give Medvedev a reindeer, which is considered a symbol of prosperity and prosperity among the Evenks. This information was accompanied by the following comment: “Medvedev’s deer will live in Iengra until his owner comes for him - this is what local custom requires.”
The President thanked the Kolotovs for their sincere gift, but did not yet take the deer to the Kremlin, expressing the hope that the animal would continue to live in its usual environment.
http://cyclowiki.org/wiki/%D0%92%D0%BE%D0%BB%D0%BE%D0%B4%D1%8F-%D0%AF%D0%BA%D1%83%D1% 82 more versions of the fate of the legendary sniper