The story of how they put a guy in prison

Prison stories roosters. How they get dropped in prison

But its place is determined in the “cock house”; as a rule, it is the “station” - between the “point” and the entrance to the cell. They don’t push the “rooster” under the bunk, as was the case before. Where he will sleep is determined by the caretaker - a convict appointed by the colony administration.

In Soviet times, when “roosters” were like dirt, they lived in trees, tied to them, on roofs, in basements. In the late 1980s. “thieves' epaulettes” (letters) began to arrive in the Belarusian camps about - so that the “roosters” would not snitch and become embittered towards people, not work for the cops, and so as not to breed pederasty.

For several years, punishment was still encountered here and there in the zones, but today it is no longer used. In Soviet times, the ways to become “offended” were very simple; today this phenomenon is observed by authoritative convicts. You can’t just drive someone into a “cock house” - you need compelling reasons. One of these reasons is a conviction for rape of a minor, the most despised crime in the zone?

Until the end of the 1980s. That's how it was. But this charge is not suitable for everyone - the court gives the article, but they can be convicted illegally.

Once in the zone, a person explains what happened to him, and authoritative convicts make a decision.

If the convict himself strives for the “cockhouse”, he will end up there; if not, he proves through his actions that he is a normal member of prison society. For example, he will refuse a cellmate’s offer to have a relationship with him. How can a man of normal orientation agree to such a proposal? Once behind bars, a person is confused and becomes depressed.

Newbie: stories from the zone, news about thieves, roosters, prisons

One story

There lived a guy in our detachment, his name was Dima. At one time he was a quiet, quiet kid. Most of all he was afraid of Tomilets, who doubled him at every opportunity. But then a place for a bread cutter became available in the canteen, and Dima was put in that place. There Dima got used to it and fed up. They stopped beating him. At this place he fed the thieves and activists, who pushed him there. Dima fed the most important ones with meat. Ordinary boys ate only gruel. Dima is two meters tall, a strong guy, he clenches his hand into a fist - it’s scary to watch. And the activists decided to have some fun. They drove the poor students into one room and said that Dima would now give them one blink for each bad mark.

Everyone was ordered to line up in pairs. The hefty Dima came in, both of whose hands were tied with pieces of a thick blanket. “We go out one at a time,” Bird commanded. The boys stood silently, no one dared to approach. “First Pyramid!” He stood doomedly not far from the door. Dima slowly moved towards him and hit Pyramid on the left jaw with all his might. The pyramid flew out the door at the speed of a rocket, as if it had never been there. Everyone laughed, including the poor students. - Next, one at a time! The boys came up and, like a Pyramid, flew out the door. If Dima's hands had not been tied with blankets, half of these boys would already be dead. News spread throughout the colony: Tomiletz raped a newcomer. And he went and told the head of the colony how Bugor beat him in the quarters and then killed him. The guy said that his father is a professor of medicine, and his mother is an assistant to the head of administration in the city. One of these days they should come to their son for a date and he will tell them everything. The head of the colony did not need problems. He immediately gave instructions that no one should dare touch the newcomer, and Tomilets was prosecuted for sodomy and taken to the city prison.

For informing the newcomer, the whole squad began to hate him. Complaining about an asset in a colony is unheard of. The newcomer understood that life would not be sweet for him, so he went to the authorities. And he was not mistaken. No one even dared to hit him. Since I was the housewife, they had to sew a red stripe on my chest. For me she was hateful. She brings nothing but misfortune and pain. I was also beaten every day. They beat those who wore such stripes. Red stripes. In juvenile colonies, red color is unacceptable. Red clothes are thrown away. Cigarettes in red packs are thrown away. In one colony they even threw sausage into the toilet. The adults neighboring this colony asked that sausage be thrown to them over the fence. And the red sausage flew towards them!

Today I suddenly remembered that I once read that if you eat soap, you will get diarrhea. Before dinner they doubled me again. The eye began to twitch again. I went into the washbasin and quietly ate the soap, washing it down with water from the tap. I waited all day for my stomach to hurt. There was nothing like that, there was no diarrhea. Before lights out, the duty officer came and ordered us to get ready for the stage. I was happy. The whole squad was jealous of me.

The Story of a Lost in Prison

The game was dominated by the famous authority “Elbow”. It was he who determined the one-week deadline for the return of the card dog. Naturally, Scoop was unable to get the money in a week.

In these matters, they don’t joke in the zone. There are no excuses. A few days after the deadline for payment expired, a rumor spread throughout the zone - the guy was put in prison!!!

- or rather, Sovk was “lowered.” The whole zone learned about this. The prisoners immediately changed their attitude towards him. They stopped greeting him and sitting next to him at the table in the dining room.

The most notorious scumbag made his life even worse.

They poured slop on Sovk, tripped him, and spat in his back. Anyone can break under such moral and physical pressure.

And it’s always like this - a man is put in prison and he breaks down, turning into a chukhan or committing suicide, or becoming a common prostitute.

But that's not what happened to the unlucky player.

At night, while sharpening, he cut the throats of three thieves who had let him down. With the same sharpening, Scoop opened his veins on both arms.

A large commission from the Department of Corrections came to the colony. We found the extreme ones. Punished. We left.

The head of the colony received a service discrepancy. The godfather got off with a severe reprimand. After this incident, the colony workers did not give the opportunity to calmly play cards, as was the case before.

Now, the players were waiting for a PKT (cell-type room), where notorious violators of discipline were sent for re-education. But those who put a man in prison were not touched. I’ll tell you more about how they let you down in prison:

The story of how they put a guy in prison.

New blog of Oleg Lurie

Most often, those convicted under Art.

131 of the Criminal Code (rape). This also includes libertines, molesters and homosexuals, regardless of what crime they committed. But according to statistics for 2022, prisoners increasingly began to fall into the excluded category because of “shoals” they committed that were unworthy of the title of prisoner. So, for example, a “decent” prisoner is not supposed to do work related to plumbing; This type of activity is exclusively for roosters.

By the way, contrary to the stereotypical opinion, the proportion of homosexuals among those who are rejected is low. Most convicts become criminals for actions unrelated to the sexual sphere. Usually expelled for various violations of the rules of prison life, such as:

They can also be released by order of the prison administration in order to eliminate undesirable convicts from prison life.

To do this, most often the victim is locked in a cockerel all night. After this, the prisoner automatically becomes a rooster.

True, the attitude of the prison community towards such offended people is more or less loyal. After the 2000s, there has been a move away from going down through rape.

This is due to the fact that more attention has been paid to protecting the rights of prisoners, as a result of which control over the internal regulations and way of life in correctional institutions has increased.

Life for those in prison is difficult and sometimes terrible.

How they mock roosters in the zone.

How they are lowered in prison - an eyewitness account

They can be transferred to the lowest prison caste even for talking to a “low-down” person, if it seems to authoritative prisoners that the convict is too kind to the “rooster.”

You can’t take anything from the “screwed” one and generally get too close to him. The same applies to eating - other prisoners do not eat next to the “roosters” and from the same dishes with them. In some prisons and zones, buckets and washbasins are marked with special signs, which are used only by those who have been released.

Accordingly, if someone else, out of ignorance or absent-mindedness (forgetfulness), uses the “marked” bathroom, according to thieves’ standards, he will be considered a “rooster” because he “messed up” and tarnished his reputation. The animal fear of prisoners who shun the “lowered down” is due to the unenviable prospect for those who, voluntarily or unwittingly, find themselves at the bottom of the prison hierarchy: there is no turning back from there - if the prisoner is “lowered down,” he will remain in this status, as they say in prison, “by life." Taking into account the fact that a significant, if not most, of the “residents” of Russian prisons and colonies are socially lost people for society and they will have to spend more than one term in captivity, it is worth considering the specificity of the fear of contact with the “lost”.

There are simple rules regarding relationships with the “omitted” that every beginner should know. The main thing is to distance yourself as much as possible from this category of prisoners.

Although it does happen that their cellmates have sexual intercourse with such prisoners (which, according to prison laws, is permissible and is not considered shameful).

What do they call men in the zone who have fallen down?

How they are lowered in prison - an eyewitness account

There was dead silence all around. Mishka was the first to speak again.

-One more test and that’s enough for today. Everyone held their breath. -In all prisons the law is the same, and we also follow it: every new newcomer kisses the bucket.

This seemed dubious and strange to me; I was completely stunned. “Did you kiss him too?” I asked him. “Well, yes.” He looked at the guys sitting around. - Yes, kiss me already. Everyone does this.” Vasya supported the Gypsy Mishka, “You kiss and that’s it, that’s the law.” I looked hopefully at Tolyan, the most authoritative of all.

It seemed to me that he was looking at me with a drop of respect, because in all the tests I never even groaned. But I was so pitiful that Tolik looked at me with contempt, without a shadow of pity.

“This is the law,” he said firmly. - How to do this? - I was stalling for time.

“Lift the lid and kiss from the inside,” the gypsy insistently pushed me. I slowly walked up and lifted the lid of the bucket.

“Is there a kiss here?” he pointed his finger at the inside of the lid. “Yeah,” the gypsy waved his head. “Everything in my soul was shaking, doubts clouded my mind, but the trap was open, there was nowhere to retreat.

I slowly bent over, the smell was terrible, it seemed like I would die if I touched this cesspool. There was deathly silence in the cell, as if the end of the world was about to happen.

I barely touched the lid of the bucket with my lips when wild laughter and a cry rushed through the cell: “Crucian crucian pig!” Mine! Parasha! I closed the lid, the guys didn’t stop talking. “Let’s call everyone and let them know that we have a bug,” Tolik shouted.

He picked up the mug and was about to knock on the pipe running under the window.

How do women feel about those who are left behind in the zone? How they are lowered in prison - an eyewitness account

But in practice, it is not customary to isolate a “status” person so that he can take part in the investigative work with greater zeal and begin to cooperate.

Therefore, the convict is put in a common cell, where he undergoes “training,” that is, he is simply beaten there. If the court decides that the accused is guilty, he is given the punishment and place of imprisonment. In practice, convicts are distributed according to the severity of the crime.

If the period is short, the person may be left in a colony at his place of residence. If the guilt is serious, the convicted person is sent away to serve his punishment.

This is justified for several reasons. Firstly, it reduces the possibility of a rebellion by the criminal, and secondly, the relatives of the victim have less chance of taking revenge on the offender on their own. The stage is transporting the convicted person to the place of serving his sentence. Until the 90s, the laws of the criminal world were based on purity of thoughts.

Theft and murder were considered elite activities in which there was no place for violence. This is a “noble” job, and it should not be disgraced by the senseless and useless mockery of the victim.

In this regard, rapists were considered despicable members of society, not people, and were subjected to humiliation.

The “lowering” occurred both on sexual grounds and in the form of a person’s psychological breakdown. What awaits rapists in prison in our time? By 2015, priorities had shifted slightly.

Prison and life behind bars

There is absolutely nothing to do. Out of boredom, I read the announcement on the board in the hallway. The wall newspaper of activists and sycophants is uninteresting. Poems without rhyme or meaning. Exposing the shameful behavior of regime violators, praising employees and their endeavors. Each subsequent newspaper is similar to the previous one. But here's a new announcement. The school announces recruitment for a group of tractor drivers. Out of boredom and to hang out, I have already received the profession of fireman, slinger, and machine operator. Next year I will enroll in the correspondence faculty at the Mechanical Engineering Institute. Well, now I want to become a tractor driver. I write an application for admission, go to the orderly, take a pass from him to leave the local area. There are only two of them for the whole squad. Good luck, if you have a pass - it’s dangerous to move around the zone without it. The officer will stop you and for violation you will be put in a punishment cell.

I’m going to the headquarters, because I know from experience that if you don’t sign the application right away, you may not get into the group of students. The number of places is limited, but there are many applicants. Almost everyone learns from the desire to change the situation and not be stuck in a boring squad. They also offer incentives for studying. And they are needed to be released on parole.

I'm standing at headquarters. There's a line in the boss's office. Finally he accepts me. I introduce myself in full: last name, first name, patronymic, squad number, brigade number, year of birth, article, term, beginning of term, end of term. And how can the “owner” not get tired of listening to this long nonsense? But he doesn't interrupt me.

I explain the purpose of the visit. The colonel looks at me skeptically, who is quite intelligent and well-groomed. Then he says on a hairdryer: “Convict, why are you mocking me? Where are you - and where is the tractor? Ordinary peasants cannot get into the groups, those who want to work in this profession when they are free!”

I have to lie that I also decided to put an end to my criminal past. After my release, like Shukshin’s hero from “Red Kalina,” I will go to the village and plow the land. The boss looks at me like I’m wretched. He notices that they haven’t plowed in Russia for a long time, and signs a statement

Solving financial issues

Next I will jump a little forward. Life in a barracks is not interesting. I’ll tell you right away about the school, or rather, about its teacher.

Such a teacher will grace any prestigious university. Doctor of Science, previously dean of a famous academy. Okay, I won't start any intrigue. He teaches in the zone because he himself is convicted. He was imprisoned for the murder of his young wife. She was a student and cheated on her daddy husband with a student, but stupidly she couldn’t do it secretly.

The Doctor of Science apparently misses his profession. He even delivers a course about tractors that will make you listen. Or rather, he recites it by heart with vivid examples and correct speech. I am far from a technical person, but I am beginning to understand the structure of the engine, although it is not at all necessary to understand such subtleties. During exams, the same teacher allows you to use notes and literature. So you don't need to learn anything.

At this school you forget that you are in the zone. Bright classes. The evening school is also located here. And in the barracks everything resembles bondage, especially the thieves. They, as always, are having a gathering. I wonder why anyone who has seized power loves meetings and meetings? They also love to speak in front of groups. Apparently, people with a certain way of thinking come to power.

This time the occasion for gatherings is more for activists, but it concerns the life of the entire squad. “The Watcher” invites everyone to chip in and buy a new TV. The old one still works fine and the screen is large, but the thieves want to buy a modern plasma. To do this, it is necessary for the convicted to write statements about debiting money from their personal accounts (whoever has it, of course).

“Men” don’t need this - they’d rather buy smoke and tea with their own money. Some overstayers are starting to remember how they bought an old TV set. We collected twice as much money as needed. The head of the detachment took them and bought a cheap device, but never returned the remaining money. This means that the squadron is a “rat”.

The “observer” notes that cops and fags cannot be asked to understand. Each of us thought to ourselves that we also shouldn’t refuse the “supervisor” - he will then do something nasty or in a dispute decide everything not in your favor. We decide to raise money for new plasma.

In the sleeping section, my neighbor (and in a small overcrowded room, all neighbors) has taken out an illegal electric stove and is frying bread. There is a shortage of oil, everything burns, the stench is such that you can’t get out.

I'm going down to the local area. It's not any easier here. A small courtyard, in the corner there is a toilet - a cesspool without doors or windows. Above it there are six holes for performing natural needs. The toilet spews miasma.

Everyone smokes in the courtyard. There is no wind, there are fences and barracks all around. Smokers spit and cough. The asphalt is covered with a thick layer of saliva and snot, so it is slippery, like on a skating rink in winter. Well, the main punishment in the zone is not imprisonment, but neighbors. After serving time, you become a misanthrope, or rather, you begin to hate those around you, and you start even at the beginning of your sentence.

"Assets and liabilities"

The “working rooster” penetrates the local area. He is from a different area, but he walks around the zone and provides sex services to everyone.

There is revival in the ranks of concerned “active” homosexuals. They stop the working fagot and ask if he will come in the evening. It’s strange to see such pictures, when men look at a scary man with hungry eyes. Well, how straight men admire and lust after a beautiful woman.

The sex worker says he can work right now. He negotiates with the detachment's supply manager and gives him a blowjob right in the storeroom. The caretaker allows the “rooster” to occupy the dryer for a while.

What begins here! “Active” homosexuals bet on the attacker. He needs to pay. The “working rooster” also needs a reward. Not everyone has a pack of cigarettes or two tea leaves (two full matchboxes) with them. And not just any currency, but Indian currency - the main currency in the zone.

There's a line forming at the dryer. Poor “active” homosexuals run around the detachment, borrowing cigarettes and tea. In prison, pleasure is rare, and the line for the dryer moves quickly.

It’s amazing how in half an hour a “passive” can serve up to twenty clients, exposing them to their mouth and ass! This is technique and endurance! But after such a warm reception, the “rooster” leaves rich. He has a lot of camp currency, which he can cash in or exchange for clothes and delicacies.

There are few “working roosters” in the colony. Some dropped out due to incompetence, earning fistulas and hemorrhoids at the “workplace”. Others simply do not want to sell themselves, since they were “let down” by force. But you can’t force even someone who’s “low” to have sex—only by consent. Otherwise, the “rooster” may complain to the “supervisors”, and they will ask about the chaos.

Or the “offended” person will write a statement about sexual harassment. The Criminal Executive Code clearly states that convicts cannot engage in same-sex love, either voluntarily or under duress. You see, what a violation compared to freedom. Even for love, prisoners cannot have intercourse.

After the “working” fagot leaves, those who used him talk for a long time about how great this “rooster” works. “Incarcerated” repeat offenders are nostalgic for the past and remember that Polina or Masha used to serve time here. These beasts worked better. They were talented because they themselves enjoyed it. During anal sex they were discharged as if from a fire hose. That was something.

Igor Zalepukhin Based on materials from the newspaper “Behind Bars” (No. 6, 2010)

The story of how they put a guy in prison.

Sexual acts involving force no longer have such a shameful status. Especially if the prisoner proved to his fellow inmates the “necessity of what he did” or the guilt of the victim.

How they are lowered in prison - an eyewitness account

I was watching an erotic channel once.

I say: calm down. I ask the officer: what else is there for the erotic channel in the pre-trial detention center? He: yes, there is nothing like that, maybe the program was erotic on a normal channel. Well, OK, I say, we’ll return to the channel later, but what was the unhealthy interest? Well,” the guy answers, “they forced us to be on duty for everyone, to clean the cell for everyone.”

You can take turns cleaning, or everyone can do it together, in different ways, but they didn’t want to. The officer explodes: why didn’t you tell the employees immediately when it started?

You came here to the pre-trial detention center, the operational officers talked to you, explained what was what, why didn’t you tell the longitudinal officer right away? Ugh! The guy sits, drooping. Well, it’s kind of bad to complain. Then he remembers: and I didn’t need their mobile phone, so I called a couple of times - they told me that I now owed them money, they forced me to call home and ask my parents for money.

I did not want. They insisted. I told them all sorts of stories. made up. I say: what stories?

He is silent. I say: okay. Let's move on to the erotic channel.

What happened? Well, that evening the erotic channel was turned on. Yes, I didn’t watch it at all, but they started teasing me, making all sorts of jokes. And, in general, they ask: have you, for example, touched a woman’s genitals with your lips?

I say: no, I don’t want to talk to you about this at all, but they ask again. They ask and ask. And they kept pestering me so much that I basically said, yes, just leave me alone.

They say: really? And for how long? I say: well, about five seconds.

My boyfriend is in prison: stories of girls waiting for prison

Muscovite Ekaterina is a young, striking brunette with huge green eyes. Katya is waiting for her boyfriend, Nikita, to return from prison, who became the first man in her life. A little over a year ago, the couple began a relationship, but Nikita tried to win Katino’s heart for five years. There are three months left before the meeting, now the “waiting mode” lasts a year and twenty days - Nikita was convicted under Part 2 of Art. 228 – “Illegal acquisition, storage, transportation, production, processing of narcotic drugs...” on a large scale.

He ran after me, and I thought: “Ugh, asshole, let him dream...”, but life decreed otherwise. We ended up in the same company and began to communicate more. Once I got very drunk in a club where my friends and I were relaxing, and I stormed out to the exit, where some guy started pestering me and dragged me into his car. Nikita got out, put him in his car and drove him to his home. There I locked myself in the bathroom, I was very drunk and climbed into the bathroom in my clothes and sat in the ice-cold water. He knocked, I was silent. He broke down the door, pulled me out of there, undressed me, wrapped me in a towel and blanket and started kissing me. I could barely squeeze out that I was still a virgin.

According to the girl, Nikita left her the keys to the apartment and went back to the club. In the morning, when she woke up, her friend was sleeping next to her, there were friends in the apartment, and the young man was sleeping separately.

The next day he invited me for a walk. I think: “Well, it looks like he saved me from the guy, let’s go for a walk.” I was a virgin, no matter how much they cheated me, I was a no-no. But I have this behavior - I am not shy about speaking on topics that make some people blush. In general, he did not believe in my innocence. We walked around, eventually went to see him, lay there, watched a movie. Then he started kissing me, and I responded. For five hours he tried to seduce me, in the end it worked, we slept together. It was already late, I asked to be taken home. And I think: “What have I done, I gave my flower to this moron.” He is a terrible womanizer, I knew that I would not tolerate it. Then I ignored him, but I was so drawn to it. A week later, I finally picked up the phone, he asked to meet for 15 minutes. I agreed. Well, I saw him, and that’s it, I melted...

He was jealous of every pillar. God forbid someone writes something. But then I saw his correspondence with a girl, blacklisted him everywhere and went to the club. I was partying there with some guys, he ambushed me at the entrance, dragged me into a car and beat me badly. I thought I was finished. We broke up. After a while we got back together, I love him, it happened that way.

How do they let you down in prison?

Most often, those convicted under Art. 131 of the Criminal Code (rape). This also includes libertines, molesters and homosexuals, regardless of what crime they committed. But according to statistics for 2022, prisoners increasingly began to fall into the excluded category because of “shoals” they committed that were unworthy of the title of prisoner.

So, for example, a “decent” prisoner is not supposed to do work related to plumbing; This type of activity is exclusively for roosters.

By the way, contrary to the stereotypical opinion, the proportion of homosexuals among those who are rejected is low. Most convicts become criminals for actions unrelated to the sexual sphere.

Usually expelled for various violations of the rules of prison life, such as:

Failure to pay card debt. Unrepaid debts have to be paid for in prison with blood, and the only way to save life is to provide sex services. Skin contact (but not sexual intercourse) with another rooster.

The initiator of such contact is then severely punished (even to the point of murder), and the prisoner with whom he had contact goes into the category of the excluded, forever.

Desperate roosters often take advantage of this to take revenge.

To get down, you just need to spend the night in a cockerel. Snitching. Cute appearance; properties inherent to the female sex, for example, affectation, high voice. Manifestation of weakness of character, inability to stand up for oneself.

A very sad story about prison (warning, unpleasant physiological details)

There is another, terrible thing, no one is safe from it. But here’s the story: some parents ask us - why is our son sitting in a pre-trial detention center in a cell with “lowered” ones, and what will happen to him in the zone after that?

Take action. And we come to the interrogation room, and we sit there, and this guy is brought to us in a line of other prisoners.

I, my permanent partner Lidia Borisovna Dubikova, an officer accompanying us.

The guy doesn't look so great, he's very frail, he looks gloomy, his eyes are dull, he speaks incoherently and contently. He is over twenty years old. Student, in his last year of study. Ended up in a pre-trial detention center. I'll tell you why later.

I'm still trying to understand the problem. In general, at first everything was fine in the camera.

There was a Russian watching, it was possible to live.

Then the measure of restraint was changed for the Russian, and an Armenian became the person watching the cell. It got worse. And there was also one Georgian. In general, they showed unhealthy interest.

And one day. I was watching an erotic channel once. I say: calm down. I ask the officer: what else is there for the erotic channel in the pre-trial detention center?

He: yes, there is nothing like that, maybe the program was erotic on a normal channel.

Well, OK, I say, we’ll return to the channel later, but what was the unhealthy interest? Well,” the guy answers, “they forced us to be on duty for everyone, to clean the cell for everyone.”

You can take turns cleaning, or everyone can do it together, in different ways, but they didn’t want to. The officer explodes: why didn’t you tell the employees immediately when it started? You came here to the pre-trial detention center, the operational officers talked to you, explained what was what, why didn’t you tell the longitudinal officer right away? Ugh! The guy sits, drooping.

Prison everyday life. Part 10. Eyewitness accounts

Night in the bullpen

I was detained without documents by zealous riot police. Involuntarily, I had to look at the bullpen and its inhabitants as if from the outside. Actually, there weren’t many inhabitants - just one young, disheveled man, terribly happy about the company. By midnight, I began to slowly suffer from a hangover, and it was from that moment that my neighbor began a long story about what happened to him. The narrative did not look like a confession or an attempt to figure things out, to listen to some advice, words of support. A chaotic stream of words; some corpse in the bathroom (a female drinking companion), who in an unknown way (?) ended up in the apartment; I went to take a leak (it was a shared bathroom, I saw a body - that’s it! They’ll put you in jail, you can’t prove anything). There is nothing to do: I called a friend; he arrived an hour later; helped dismember the corpse (for ease of removal, nothing more). They carried me out in a plastic bag at three o’clock in the morning; Unfortunately, the neighbor was returning from the tavern. Blood was dripping from the bag - the fool noticed. And he got hit in the solar plexus with a carving knife. But he didn’t die, the bastard, but crawled to the door of his apartment, scratching with his weakening fingers. The wife called an ambulance and the police. “Vasya and I were detained. Valka’s heart was bad, it’s a fact! She herself died. What should I do?"

“They’ll beat you up for your neighbor too - be healthy!” - I thought. Listening to this murderous story was sickening, unbearable, like watching some seedy, hacky horror film. I didn’t feel sorry for either Vasya or his cellmate. There was no pity - in the sense of the legality of the upcoming punishment. Something stirred only when I imagined their long journey “with Vasya”: prison and zone for many, many years, undoubted mistakes and attempts to reduce or weaken the punitive action. The neighbor had neither health nor “spirit.” All night he rolled his tongue, shaking the stale air of the bullpen, intensifying my hangover and craving for freedom. Finally morning came, the policeman on duty opened the door.

I politely said goodbye to my cellmate, adding only one thing: “Calm down, fellow countryman, calm down.” But the “countryman” had already crossed me out of his life, rushed to the door and muttered in the face of the duty officer: “They’ll be letting me out soon, huh? Well, have you figured it out? Got it? Got it figured out?”

“We’ve sorted it out,” the policeman pushed him back into the “hut.” “Sit quietly, don’t make a fuss...”

He went to the duty room, received back the things “marked” by the police: a watch, laces, a belt, etc., and immediately in front of witnesses they searched the drug addict: some vials, a syringe, a butterfly knife...

- Did you have any money? - the captain asked me. - Everything is written down there.

Oh, exactly, here it is: 78 thousand 500 rubles. The fine is 25 thousand, you can pay it here. Or to the savings bank - three stops on the trolleybus.

- No, I’d rather be here... to hell with this receipt...

“It’s supposed to be,” the captain answered sternly, but he hid the piece of paper, threw the quarter into the desk drawer and nodded, allowing him to leave the “institution.”

- What is the fine for? - I asked already at the door.

- For this... for being... in a public place... in what's his name?

Drunk... Go, go...

- Goodbye.

Fan Fanych

I heard this story three times, from different people, but in the main details it coincided one to one, and even the name of the main character was the same everywhere - Fan Fanych. (Most likely, the name is fictitious, because according to the criminal “fenya” “Fanfanych” means a representative man.) I don’t know if this actually happened, but everything is very similar to the truth.

And if you consider that absolutely incredible things happen in the zone, then all the more you can believe the storytellers. This story is instructive, and it tells how sometimes a resourceful and witty person can gain respect among prisoners. Here's a short first-person account.

A Moscow tram arrived at one of Bamlag’s phalanxes, where I was working with a contractor. So, nothing special, the tram is just a tram, ordinary.

They scattered them around the barracks, in the evening they assigned them to teams and announced who would wave the pick tomorrow and who would spin around with the stretcher. In the morning the rail slammed, everyone was sent away. The crews lined up and went to work. My task is to go through the barracks and report to the foreman what’s what. I ran around - except for the sick and one from yesterday's Moscow tram, everyone was at work. I go and report to the contractor:

- In the fourth barrack there is one refusenik. Everyone else is at work.

- Who it? — the work assistant turned purple. - Where were you looking, bitch?

Why didn't you kick him out? Is your forehead healthy? Or - trump card?

“No,” I say, “what a forehead there is... There’s nothing to look at.” It's a worm, but it hurts wonderfully. He demands that he be taken to the chief of the phalanx. Without delay, he says...

- Oh, you sneak! Now I will give him the chief of the phalanx! He will regret that his mother gave birth to him! - He threw his papers to me: - Let's go!

We go into the fourth, and this skinny small fry, hanurik, meets us. Before the contractor had time to open his mouth, he said in a commanding voice:

-Are you a phalanx commander? Very good, on time... I really wanted to raise a question about you with the boss. Here's what, my dear... Please provide me with a work space, a drawing board, whatman paper and other accessories. Another quick guy for me to carry out minor technical work!

He turned sharply, put a finger to his forehead, the other hand behind his back, and walked down the aisle of the barracks.

The hefty contractor had seen a lot over the years of imprisonment, but such a thing had never happened before, like a bull by the horns and into a stall. Usually, at the sight of a contractor with a pack of sixes, every prisoner tries to hide somewhere, hide from view, or even fall into the ground. And then the contractor wanted to hide himself. And that bastard turned around at the end of the barracks and came at us again. He knitted his eyebrows, sternly:

— I hope you have already been informed about my arrival here?

“Nope...” mumbled the orderly.

“Then why are you still standing here?” I'm asking you! Go and report: Fitilev Fan Fanych has arrived! There! - Fan Fanych pointed his thumb protruding from his fist behind his shoulder and fell silent.

What does this “there” mean, the contractor quickly wondered, but he just couldn’t figure it out.

“There,” Fan Fanych continued, “I was working on solving a problem of great national importance.” Every minute is precious to me, and therefore I ask you to report me immediately.

And Fan Fanych patted the confused contractor on the shoulder in a friendly manner.

A few minutes later, wiping the sweat from his forehead, the orderly stood in front of the chief of the phalanx.

- What happened to you there? - asked the “owner”.

- Yesterday's tram brought something wonderful. He says that he is a great scientist and you should have been informed of his arrival.

The boss thought about it. He knew that Beria put world-famous scientists in the camps so that they would not be distracted by drinking, having affairs with other people’s wives and intriguing against each other, from solving big state problems. They worked in an atmosphere of great secrecy in the “sharashka” and the special bureau. For good provision and care for them, for support and assistance in solving the problem of creating new types of aircraft and weapons, the commanders received an extraordinary star. The boss undoubtedly replayed all this in his head instantly. Maybe I’ll get lucky too, he probably thought.

- Drive! - ordered the “master”. - Let's see what kind of bird...

After a while, the door swung open without knocking. Thus, only those who know their worth enter the boss’s office. Approaching the boss who had risen from the table, Fan Fanych extended his hand in greeting and said good-naturedly:

- Yes, you sit down, Vasil Vasilich, sit down. — And with a mysterious intonation he added: “You and I know very well that there is no truth in our feet.”

All this stunned and puzzled not only the boss himself, but also for the second time the work manager, who came in after him and was hovering near the door. The owner of the zone is accustomed to everyone calling him nothing more than “Citizen Chief.” And this one is simply by name and patronymic. How did you find out the name?

And what is this hint about some kind of truth in the legs? Who doesn’t know that the truth is sitting and not standing? What is behind all this? And why did this Fan Fanych sit down in an easy chair without an invitation? Vasil Vasilyevich felt uneasy. What if this is not a scientist, but a camp scoundrel.

Meanwhile, Fan Fanych continued to talk. At the same time, he nodded at the phone, then pointed his index finger somewhere up, then pointed behind his back with his thumb:

- So you call the head of all railway construction camps in the Far East, Frenkel Naftaliy Aronovich. He is aware. You can add on your own that I have arrived and, thanks to your concern, I will begin work on the project without delay...

Fan Fanych correctly calculated the situation and knew in advance that Frenkel could not be reached from the phalanx, and the head of the zone would not dare to disturb one of the highest Gulag officials, who was also a tough one in life, over such a trifle.

“Let me ask,” the “owner” began carefully, “what are you working on?”

He himself winced at the fact that he addressed the prisoner as “you.”

- I have no right to disclose. State secret. - Fan Fanych thought and added, lowering his voice: - Only to you, as your immediate superior, briefly, in a nutshell, without details and details. Many scientists around the world have struggled with the problem of draining Lake Baikal, which complicates communication between the Far East and the European part. The great Einstein, Nobel Prize laureate, was not able to solve the problem either. Only I have almost found the key to realizing this project. All ideas and sketches of calculations are here. “He tapped his forehead with his finger.

— How long will it take you to solve this problem? - asked the “owner”.

He figured: “He has a quarter. It will hurt for about twenty years now. Here you are a goose and emerge into clear water. Whether you are a charlatan or a scientist, I’m not a fool to wait so many years.”

“Since all the calculations are basically ready and are here,” Fan Fanych again tapped his shorn head with his knuckles, “it will take several months.” Maybe three, maybe four, maybe six months at the most...

We agreed quickly. The “owner” provides Fan Fanych with the necessary conditions for finalizing the project, and after six months he delivers the finished project, which the “owner” will personally report to the top.

On the same day, the “great scientist” received at his disposal a fenced-off corner in the barracks, and the very next morning there was a smoking stove, built for him personally. So that the thoughts in your head do not cool down. In the following days, his “technical secretary” kept running to get firewood, then to the kitchen with a pot, or to a cesspool with a bucket for one person.

Having received everything he needed, Fan Fanych got to work. Soon, receiving double rations, he gained weight and gained fat. Prisoners came to look at him with envy, especially from new stages. Despite all the delays

and puffs, it's time to hand over the project. The “great scientist and inventor” managed to insist that the defense and transfer of the project take place in the presence of an authoritative commission, and it arrived. Fan Fanych appeared in the spacious office of the “owner”. Having greeted the members of the commission and calling some by their first names, he casually threw a roll of whatman paper on the boss’s desk.

“Before I begin to present my discovery,” began Fan Fanych, “I would like, with the permission of the respected commission, to ask those present a few questions to introduce the matter.

Having received permission, he turned to an important Moscow official:

— Tell me, do we have many camps and colonies in our country?

“The exact figure is a secret of national importance,” the official answered, “but I can say unequivocally.” A lot of.

— Do they contain many prisoners?

“A lot, a lot,” the members of the commission made a noise, eager to get acquainted with the greatest discovery of the century. “I’ll explain my idea briefly,” Fan Fanych continued, “then you will have the opportunity to familiarize yourself with the project in detail, look at the drawings, diagrams, and graphs. All explanatory documents and calculations are in this folder.

So. The members of the commission know, it is not a big secret to anyone, that we have to build a railway bypassing the southern and northern parts of Lake Baikal. This is extremely expensive for the country, and the time frame for putting sites into operation is extended. It is necessary to develop a huge amount of rocky soil. Therefore, I chose the cheapest and most original option for laying railway tracks along the drained bottom of Lake Baikal. What is its main essence? We deliver sixteen million wagons of crackers to Baikal, both along the southern and northern railway lines. We pour it into the lake. Then we dump seven million carloads of granulated sugar there. As you know, the water in Baikal is fresh.

Stir everything with a large stirrer. Here I have a stirrer designed in detail. - Fan Fanych nodded at the folder. — We bring prisoners with spoons from all over the country. Three days - and Baikal is dry.

Of course, the commission members had long ago realized that they were being mocked in the most brazen manner, and perhaps the “owner” himself was the first to understand this. He sat and gritted his teeth with rage. Fan Fanych turned out to be a great blacksmith and an excellent swindler. Fan Fanych has a quarter. He has nothing to lose. He took, or rather stole, a good six months from the “owner” and lived them like a human being.

And at the same time, until the end of his term, he earned respect and authority from other prisoners.