After a trip to Iraq, I returned to the service of safety as a senior inspector-pilot. Two years have passed, and I was summoned to the Directorate of Personnel Air Force. They
handed me a package with a personal [319] case report that I have come
to the 10th Directorate of the General Staff, and added: "You are
already there waiting for a pass ordered." I sit on a bus, and after 15 minutes I'm getting to the pass office of the General Staff. The officer on duty, checking documents, gives me a pass to enter the building and says, how do I get there.

I walk to the entrance of a friend where I was part of two years ago. I submit there is a pass and go up to the fifth floor, the room where I was sitting Caller officer. He said that we needed a senior officer in the unit chief military adviser in Algeria. Of the several candidates proposed by the chief "dozens" chose me. It should be a formal question about my acceptance. I thought long: a new country, the Mediterranean, the sea, new people ... I said: "I agree!" - And I hear in response, "Fine." He picks up the phone and says something. Then rises and says, "Come on, chief awaits you."

I walk into the reception area. The duty and report to the chief invited to come to him. I went to represent. Colonel-General Grigory Petrovich Skorikov stares at me, then asks about work in Iraq. I briefly reporting to, and in response I hear:

- Very good. The chief military advisor in Iraq is very good comments about you. I hope that Algeria will work just as well.

At this the audience was over, it lasted only 10 minutes. Making a new job abroad, this time went quickly. Apparently, the previous work in Iraq gave me some advantage, and a week later my wife and I went back to the Airport. Children at this time remained in Moscow: care of them took the wife's parents. [320]

The airport we were met by a noisy crowd of departing and flown. Clearance, passage through customs, passport control and then went as usual. And only once in the plane, we were able to relax a bit and relax. Before that there were many things that need to be urgently addressed: did we flew from Moscow for two years.

Algeria, after a four hour flight we were met coldly. Coming
out of the plane and passing in the hall of customs clearance, we first
drew attention to the cautious attitude to our customs. They were gloomy faces carefully examined all of our stuff. The exact opposite of smiling Iraqis! Europeans here, apparently, did not like. Finally, all the formalities are completed. In
the hall we were met by a representative of the military adviser: We
greet each other and begin to learn, but he already knows all about us
and spends in the car. We were on our beautiful asphalt road, which very few cars. Soon, we face a great white city, situated on the slopes of the coastal hills, the houses down to the sea. Entering the narrow streets. All around the beautiful buildings, many shops. That car stops in front of a small two-story building. We
enter the gates of a small courtyard, go into the building and climb to
the second floor, where we enter the office of the chief military
adviser. Sitting at the table lean, graying man with a small rise. I reported his arrival and in response to hear the greeting and congratulations on your safe arrival.

Lt.
Gen. Anatoly Klyuyev provoeval whole Patriotic War, and now heads a
large team of military experts to help you create the Algerian army. And,
most importantly, defuse [321], the vast expanses of mines laid by the
French army during the long war against the People's Liberation Army of
Algeria. My task, as it is put Klyuev, includes work on the selection of candidates to be sent to military schools of the Soviet Union. In addition, I was assigned all the work to ensure that the activities of the military mission. This does not please me: economic affairs, I never did. But it requires discipline on all answer: "Yes." However, this work, as it turned out, was pretty easy. Tensions
were only a few months, when carried out the selection of students and
sending them to the military schools of the Soviet Union.

Acquainted
with the other members of the military mission, which made me the most
pleasant experience, my wife and I went to the rented two-room apartment
for us in the house of a local resident. There we met a very pretty woman. We had reserved us a room, explained how and what to use. We offered the owners of pre-cooked gifts, mostly canned variety, and several bottles of vodka in Moscow. For all of us warmly thanked. However, we got a small incident. Twenty minutes later the hostess came back and gave us two cans of pork stew. It turns out that pork Algerians, as all Muslims do not eat, but we have not thought about it. These banks had to be replaced by chicken pie.

The next morning arrived at the car behind us I'm going on a mission. Apparently, at this time was the so-called rush hour, because the narrow street was literally jammed with cars. The distance I had to go a mile in twenty minutes. Especially for a long time we stood in front of one of the crossroads where several streets converge. Standing in the center [322] the police literally enchanted us with their graceful movements. He whistled, waved his wand and quickly missed the car. I
was told that the police - a local celebrity, and that the president of
Algeria for his excellent work even awarded him the rank of officer.

A few months ago in a rather tedious work. Local
commanders represented in the mission to advance the lists due to the
number of listeners to send them to the Soviet Union for training. I
just had to check their compliance with the planned amount and send the
lists to the Office of the General Staff, and after their approval to
negotiate with the Algerian Ministry of Defence on the date and manner
of departure for future students to study.

In the autumn General Klyuev decided to inspect the work in Algeria, the Soviet military advisers. During the trip, we met who worked in Algeria, the Soviet experts. There
were engineers, cleared hundreds of minefields, especially dense near
the former French garrisons were oilmen, teachers, doctors, university
professors.

I was struck by the contrast of Algeria. After crossing the mountains, we drove into the boundless desert sand. Not one living creature, only occasionally came across oasis: a few palm trees with one or more huts or tents. But then suddenly appeared in front of the green grove where the trees were small cottages. It was so unexpected, I did not want to believe his eyes: among the sand of the desert was a fabulous town. At home, swimming pools, shops, green palms, beneath cozy cottages, near tennis courts. A miracle! The interpreter told us that live here [323] American experts, heads of oil companies, producing oil in the Sahara. To create acceptable living conditions it was built this fabulous town. The question: "How do we get water for life and people and trees?" He said, "From artesian wells. Under the sands of the Sahara sea of ​​fresh water. Only a Drill! "

The return journey to the west lay on the beach. Numerous
orange groves on the left, the blue expanse of the Mediterranean Sea to
the right, the green slopes of the mountains created a beautiful
picture. But here is the suburb of Algiers. In front of a beautiful stone church, built in memory of the dead sailors crashed on the cliffs of ships. For him the ancient city of Kasbah, with its tight streets ...

Again flowed days filled with talks about the need for training of various specialists. A quiet life disrupted invitations to various festivals, usually in the Embassy of the socialist countries. More often my wife and I were invited to the Embassy of the GDR. There, as here, there were ours, and Muslim holidays, so we had many chances to meet friends.

A quiet life interrupted by mishaps. Thus, the Algerian security services several times tried unsuccessfully to recruit someone from the Soviet experts. Finally, it seems fortunate. Near the town of Algeria, was a small campus of Boumerdes, where the Soviet working teachers. All
day long they were busy in lectures and practical classes, and their
wives had a lot of free time and often went to the Grand Bazaar in
Yantaya ten kilometers from the Boumerdes. Trips typically occur on the local buses or taxis. But once the car was not there and hurry home a woman stopped a passing car and asked the [324] of their ride. A young, pleasant kind of Algerian agreed. Along the way they talk. It turned out that the Algerian knows Russian well as a few years he studied in Leningrad. A week later, a trip to the market again, and again was Algerian companion.

Pleasant trips became more frequent. There was a bored woman's friendship with a generous Algerian, began visiting him at home. Then a car stopped by the police, and the passenger was taken to the police station. The woman showed pictures of their intimate encounters: an Algerian secret service agent turned out to be. The
woman was forced to sign a commitment to work for the Algerian
counter-intelligence, but, fortunately, she plucked up courage and came
to the Soviet Embassy, ​​said it had happened. Under
an assumed name, and disguised disguised that it was not stopped by
security service, it immediately put on a plane and sent to the Union. Thus ended this romance novel. In
the Union of the woman after a rather unpleasant conversation, and the
corresponding suggestion was to work on his previous work at the school.

The other case was more tragic. In Algeria, the military attache of our work - a very nice person. On
holidays, he suited quite large receptions, and they invited a lot of
Algerian officers and military attaches from other embassies. Because
to accept and treat 20-30 guests - a rather complicated matter, then
the device techniques were employed as a family officer and his
assistants, and some wives of military specialists. At the reception guests and refreshments are often involved and the assistant military attache, a young major named Filatov. One day, bringing to the table a huge lobster on a platter, he suddenly dropped it, and I saw him crying in the kitchen. He was hardly calmed, but the evening was thoroughly [325] is corrupt. After
this strange case, we soon returned to the Union, and suddenly, a few
years later I read in the newspaper that the military tribunal sentenced
to death an American spy someone Filatov. I
immediately called one of his friends at work in Algeria, told him
about the read, and he replied: "Yes, indeed, is the Filatov." Having met with him several days later, I learned more about Filatov, and how he was recruited.

As I said, Anatoly Filatov was the assistant military attaché in Algiers. Being curious, he often went to the bookstores of the city and bought books on the history, economy and culture of Algeria. Once, when he was rummaging in a bookshop, looking for some rare book, a pretty girl asked him what he so diligently seeking. Upon
hearing the answer Filatov, she said that this is a very rare book in
its library, and she can give it to him for a few days to read. Filatov agreed, and they agreed to meet at the store a few days.

The meeting took place, but she said she just got off work, and offered to drive to her house: there she give him a book. Not
seeing anything suspicious, Filatov agreed, but on the way he was
persuaded to go to see the entire library - say, it may be interested in
something else? The cozy atmosphere at home, and a friendly warning attitude girl possessed by the trust. Filatov took the book, then came to give her, then is followed by several intimate encounters ... Both were young and beautiful, and all contributed to their mutual passion. [326]

The final was logical: at a meeting attended by a man. Politely
apologized for the intrusion into their private life, he showed some
pictures of their intimate relationships and Filatov asked to sign an
agreement to provide some small services to U.S. intelligence. Filatov, indignant, tore these photos, and flatly refused to do so. But
the stranger calmly said that there are many copies and they will be
transferred to the Soviet ambassador in newspaper and published a
description of his adventures. In the end, Filatov agreed, secretly thinking of some way to evade that obligation. For
several months he succeeded, he even went to some trip, but at a
reception at the military attache, he saw this stranger, and so confused
that even dropped the dish with lobster.

Then
he dutifully did everything demanded of him - in particular, gave U.S.
intelligence lists of all employees of the Soviet military mission and
other embassy staff. Returning to Moscow, Filatov continued to perform other tasks, and their owners. We used a niche for the radiator in one of the entrances to multistory building on the street near the City Council. Apparently, somehow, he incurred the suspicion and during bookmark "letters" in this "mailbox" was arrested.

The
military tribunal tried it with some dissident, but if dissident
beliefs gave a few years, Filatova for spying was sentenced to death. Too bad it was only his wife and two young children. Only
a few dozen years, I learned that the Presidium of the Supreme Court
changed the sentence: execution has been replaced by a traitor in prison
... [327]

Incidentally, the activities of our military mission carefully controlled the Algerian police. All phones are tapped. One time on the phone, standing in our room, there was a loud crackling, strongly disturb the conversation. This went on for several days until he came home at night, we did not see another brand new machine with excellent audibility. Assistant
to the senior military adviser, to whom I spoke about the kindness of
the innkeeper, and said that this courtesy is not the owner, and police
officials that because of strong interference could not understand the
content of telephone conversations and immediately took his measure,
replacing the phone.

If
you get bored during the week there was no time (all day working in the
premises occupied by the military mission), then at the weekend there
was nothing. The day passed in reading books or walking around the city. Stores were half empty, even though the goods had been set. Everything was simple: people received low wages and bought all the cheap stalls in the market. In the early days of our walks, we did not have time to go through the quarter, as someone must climb into my pockets. Only
when I was one of the boy grabbed her arm, and then, shaking his head
and said something like "not good, I'm Soviet!", All these attempts were
discontinued. The local boys began to learn more and we did not try to steal something.

During
the summer weekends, we went to the shore of the Mediterranean with its
warm water and beautiful beaches, and often fall fishing. In small streams near the town of eels caught are small. However, once I managed to pull out and a large, three pounds. In the spring we went to the nearby small lake, where a well-caught small, with half a kilo, carp. Fishing and talk [328] on fishing successes have been for us a great holiday.

The
end of two years in Algeria, and this is an unexpected pleasure: in
Algeria, the Soviet naval squadron arrived - a destroyer, a submarine
and a few ships. Began sharing invitations. The Embassy invited the sailors to their territory, suited for them and the concert tours of the city and nearby places. Sailors, in turn, invited the embassy staff and military missions to their ships. Particularly impressive was the inspection of the submarine. There, in her belly, down the bravest, including several women. Had plenty of experience: they were all amazed how you can live and work in such a close little boat.

A few days later came a concert of Soviet artists. So nice to see familiar faces and hear our beautiful songs. With
us was one from Leningrad, published 15 years ago for Algerian students
studying at the Leningrad Institute and for nearly 10 years who lived
in Algeria. Her
husband made a wonderful career and was already a minister, and his son
was studying in a French college, and spoke three languages: French,
Russian and Arabic. At
first all went well, but when they began to run, "Moscow Nights", our
friend began to cry and walked away, saying, "Excuse me, my mother died
in Leningrad ..."

For
students from Arab and other countries, trained in Moscow, came out a
lot of Russian girls who found themselves cut off from their homeland. I remember how we met in Algeria, one more to our compatriot, who rebelled against the customs prevailing in Algerian families. "They're a slave of me wants to do. It will not work! "- She said. I
do not know what [329] ended in a rebellion, but with us it really
behaved independently, trying to establish her husband's family in their
order. However, in our opinion, the Algerian women enjoy greater rights. For
example, you could see this picture: there is a family - in front of
the hostess with the closed eyes to the face, her husband has a baby,
and go back a few more children. It seems that every country has its own customs and people of another culture is difficult to get used to it.

But that's the end of the trip. Done
a lot, but generally discreet work on the management and provision of
Soviet military specialists, who cleared a huge area of ​​the mines laid
by the French army during the fighting. But what a difference in Iraq! There, the Soviet military adviser comrade and friend. In
any part of any Iraqi military commander will be welcome to meet the
Soviet adviser and will be installed once the most pleasant and almost
friendly relations. Here, a few wary relationship. Heavy
losses incurred by the Algerians in the long struggle for independence,
making them hostile to the Europeans, the people of another race,
which, apparently, they are numbered among us, too.

Last parting words and a hug, a familiar airport ... Beneath us the green groves, and then endless blue sea. Farewell to Algeria!

http://militera.lib.ru/memo/russian/kramarenko_sm/28.html

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