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| Grishin, Alexey |
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Ïàìÿòè Àëåêñåÿ Äìèòðèåâè÷à Ãðèøèíà Ñâåòëàÿ ïàìÿòü ïðåêðàñíîìó ÷åëîâåêó! Ìû ðàáîòàëè â ÃÌÏÑ, òîãäà îí áûë ìîëîäûì íà÷àëüíèêîì îòäåëà ìåòàëëîâ, ïîäàþùèì áîëü... |
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| Panteleev, Denis |
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| Ustinovskaya, Yekaterina |
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| Bochkov, Alexei |
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Òåððàêò â Ïàëåñòèíå, Ñåêòîð Ãàçà Ñåãîäíÿ â ãðàæäàíñêóþ áîëüíèöó Ïàëåñòèíû ïðèëåòåëà ðàêåòà, ïîãèáëè äî 1000 ÷åëîâåê, âåñü ìèð âçáóäîðàæåí. È ÿ îêàçàëñÿ í... |
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| Radchenko, Vladimir |
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| 04/09/23 22:05 more... |
| author Åëåíà |
| Hostage E. Fedotova tells her story |
| Written by Âàäèì Êàðïîâ | |
| Ñðåäà, 30 Îêòÿáðü 2002 | |
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I RETURNED FROM HELL In ‘Trud’, October 30th, 2002 During the assault, Elena Fedotova’s daughter shielded her mother with her own body, then lost consciousness For Elena Fedotova, administrator of the Hotel Central in suburban We booked at the city ticket agency for October 19th. The hotel paid the expenses, but something went wrong and dates were changed to the 23rd. Some of the hotel staff refused, so we decided to give the tickets to children and close relatives. I called up Katya in Moscow: “Daughter, want to go to a musical?” She said: “I do.” Katya is 19 and a We had no premonitions. As the organizer of trip, and union chairman for the hotel, I was afraid something would go wrong on the road, but it turned out to be a fun drive. There were 15 of us, and we joked and drank wine. Katerina Titova somehow let it slip out of her mouth: “Let’s drink to our last trip!” My Katya was waiting by the entrance. We did not notice anything suspicious. During intermission, we walked around the foyer and lobby, and went to the snack bar. Katya bought a cake soufflé, sprinkled with chocolate. Later the militants gave these to the children, only the men (terrorists) did this, by the way. The women (terrorists) always had their hands full. In their left hand they carried a grenade, and in the right — a pistol. And their finger was always on the trigger. Even when they took turns sleeping on the floor, their finger stayed on the trigger. During intermission we did not notice anything either. It all started about five minutes after the start of the second act. We were in the mezzanine, and all at once here and on stage and in the main seating are these armed men jumped out, shouting: “Hands behind your heads! This is a capture!” and they began to fire into the air at the ceiling. “We’ll shoot whomever doesn’t carry out our commands! We’ll shoot whomever we find with a cell phone!” Just like the Nazis, all the time: “Shoot, shoot, shoot!” It was like a bad dream. Initially we thought it was some twist by the director. We did not believe that it was true. Many people looked all around, craning their necks, and then (the (terrorists) used rifle butts to beat some of the audience about the head, (they beat them) bloody, but no one who got beat up yelled. Then they ordered us to throw our handbags into the aisles. I did not even try to pull out any money. Shock. In my purse there were three thousand rubles and documents. Today my husband went to Moscow — maybe they will return my things. But to heck with the bag, the most important thing is that we stayed alive. The first hour it seemed that it was just about over and that it had been a misunderstanding. They ordered: “If there are any Georgians, Muslims, or foreigners, they can leave. We’re letting them go.” Ten people guarded us constantly: four women and six men. Others came and went. The ringleader, Barayev, was always downstairs. Three of our guards were masked. One of the youngest was 16, with a very open and childlike face. She wore a black dress and a black shawl that covered her forehead, but she was the cruelest one of them all. The other bandits warned us: “She was brought up in the Muslim spirit, a fanatical Islamist. If they give the order to blow up everything, she’ll do it immediately and it’ll be her joy.” When they took us to the toilet, she always kept her pistol ready. They called the senior one in our group Aslan. He also went around without a mask. We asked him: “Where are you from?” He said that he was from Grozny. I also remember that there was a woman named Aishat, and a second one, Salva or Selva. Among the men there was a Rashid. I do not remember the rest of the names. All the terrorists were young, age 20, and all of them, as we understood it, were from Chechnya. One of them was older: he was more than 30. He wore glasses like they do to go swimming, and on top of them he wore a mask. Some covered their entire face, while others just the nose and chin. Even now I wake up at night, I still cannot sleep well, and I see these terrible faces before me. While I was sitting there, I swore at myself a hundred times for organizing the damn trip. In a whisper, I asked my daughter’s forgiveness for taking her to the show. Katya, however, the whole time we were sitting together, she calmly said: “Come now, Mama, don’t worry, everything will be fine.” But I was still cursing myself. Some people from our group were killed, two, to be precise: Galya Litvinova from the snack bar, and her husband, Boris. They still cannot find Taisiya Petrova. She is retired, and elderly, so it is unlikely that she stood a chance. - Did you talk to the terrorists a lot? Yes, we asked them questions. We wanted to understand and explain that we did not want the war, either, so why torment us? But they quickly stopped this talk: “That’s enough, shut up!” In principle they were not polite in talking with us, but neither were they rude. They did not beat up any of us who were sitting in the mezzanine. They allowed us to get medicines from our bags, when it was necessary. - How did you ask to do this? Just like in school, by raising our hand. We were afraid to do anything else, so as not to anger the bandits. First they pointed a pistol at the person with his hand raised, and then they asked what he wanted. And they would take him under escort to his things. They took a maximum of two at a time to the toilet, but when they were in a very good mood, then three or four hostages at a time. Then they divided us up. Women were put on the right, as you look at the stage, and men on the left. In the main seating they all stayed where they were, but I thought it to be scarier down there. They were often shooting down there. Not long before the assault, some kid I think lost his nerve. He jumped up and ran along the seat backs up to the stage. The bandits were shooting bursts at him from their machineguns, but they missed and hit two spectators. A man got hit in the head, and a woman in the stomach. Down below the people began screaming: “Blood, blood, blood!” The bandits dragged the man out by his arms along the floor. The kid they took out the door to the lobby, and there I heard shooting. Then the bandits explained that their cruelty was because the boy supposedly was running at the bomb. We had exactly the same bomb in the front rows, and both were connected with wires. One of the female suicide bombers ‘comforted’ us by saying we should not cringe in fear or try to hide, because the charges would kill everyone up to a distance of 200 meters anyway. That probably might have happened. - How did the bandits behave? How did their mood change? The first night they were very sure of themselves. You could feel that. They had no doubts that their plan would succeed. Every now and then they stated: “Either we die, or we win.” But they were sure that they would win, and the whole time they were talking on their cell phones. They had chargers for them. They said that they had prepared for the capture for a long time. They had first prepared to do it on Vladimir Putin’s birthday, but some little thing delayed them, and then they began to get nervous and the longer they waited the worse it got, and so it did not work out the way they wanted. Before the assault they got especially twitchy. Barayev started shouting something to his people in Chechen, and then started shooting. “This third night is the last,” said the bandits. “If there is no progress then we will begin the second phase of the operation.” What that was, he did not explain, but it was clear that something awful was in store for us. Later the bandits started yelling: “A spy, a spy!” and shots rang out. They brought some man into the hall. The man went on to explain that he came to get his son, who was being held hostage. The bandits demanded that the man say his son’s name. They started shouting the name, but nobody in the room responded. Then they beat the man with their rifle butts and took him out. I heard three shots. The hall grew restless and loud voices came in waves. They Barayev went on stage and said: “Calm down, sit down! I just had a talk with Primakov. We didn’t reach an agreement, but now I’ve received information that tomorrow at 11 am Kazantsev is arriving. We will talk with him.” So, at least we would live until the morning, I thought. “Lord,” I prayed. “Save us and have mercy on us so that all survive. God help us.” Perhaps everyone was praying in his or her own way, but they were all asking for the same thing, of course. - Did they watch TV in theater center auditorium? - Yes. Though I could not see the picture, there was a unit on the director’s console, and I could hear it. The bandits had small receivers that they listened to all the time, and sometimes they let us. - Were you not afraid that the broadcasts would infuriate the bandits? Of course we were. They broadcast a lot of unnecessary things. For example, they recalled highlights of the hostage taking and each time they said how many people were killed during it. You cannot imagine how unnerving it was for us, and how it worked on Barayev’s terrorists. Then they had some report that Maskhadov allegedly had nothing to do with the capture (of the theater). The bandits laughed and winked at each other over this. They told us that they were waiting for a call from Chechnya. As I understood it, it was to be from Maskhadov, with news that the troops were being withdrawn. I told one of my guards that this could not be done quickly. She said: “We’ve got time. We can wait a week and more if necessary.” Then on TV, Tsekalo for some reason said that they were trying to get inside the theater as quietly as possible. The bandits went around tearing the panels from the walls and ceiling, in search of ventilation ducts. They found them and immediately - How did they feed you? The first day they handed out one chocolate bar to a row, for about 15 people. We cut it up and shared. A liter of juice, too, per row. We took sip after sip. On the second day they only brought small candies and bottles of carbonated water, and that was it. Later we took the empty bottles to the restroom for water. The bandits themselves did not eat. They only took some pills. They did not drink juice or water. - Experts say that hostages gain sympathy for those who hold them prisoner. Did you have anything like this? If there was anything, there was fear, especially when there was shooting. We thought that the assault was starting, and with all these bombs right next to us. It was clear that our captors were ready for anything. On stage they carried a canister of gasoline, or at least that is what the bandits said. We repeatedly tried to explain to them that none of us had anything to do with it, especially the children. “You’re a mother yourself,” I said to one of the suicide bombers. “Don’t you feel any pity for the kids?” and she replied: “My relatives were killed, so why should I have any pity for yours? Dying is easy. Don’t be afraid. Together we’ll fly to heaven. You won’t even feel a thing.” - Did you sleep at all during this time? No. Only maybe 15 minutes of oblivion. My heart was pounding the whole time. I did not even have to take my pulse. I only had the strength to wind my watch. - How did the children act? With fortitude. No hysterics, only once in awhile one of them would sob quietly. - Tell me about the assault. I do not really remember. I lost consciousness very quickly. I only saw how the gas came out, as if from the ceiling, and began quickly to descend. I got dizzy. I woke up at 10 in the morning with a tube in my mouth, hooked up to a respirator. I could not breathe by myself. I heard the doctor, as if from somewhere far away, asking me: “Breathe in deeply.” But I could not do it. I probably discharged myself a little early. All my muscles still ache, and I have anxiety. But Katya is still at the 68th hospital. Her husband and I went to see her, and she told me details about the gas attack, how she wet my denim shirt and put it to my face and shielded me with her own body and passed out. I was supposed to be the one protecting her. My daughter actually saved me. Katyusha woke up quickly, already in the lobby while she was being carried on a commando’s shoulder. He stroked her head and reassured her: “Now everything is alright.” |
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