Sevastopol stories of L. Tolstoy.
Sevastopol in December
The story begins at dawn on Sapun Mountain. It is winter outside, there is no snow, but in the morning frost stings the skin. Dead silence is broken only by the sound of the sea and rare shots. Thinking about Sevastopol, everyone felt courage and pride, the heart began to beat faster.
The city is occupied there is a war, but this does not violate the peaceful movement of the townspeople. The women sell fragrant rolls, the men sell sbiten. How amazingly war and peace are mixed here! People still flinch when they hear another shot or explosion, but in fact no one pays attention to them, and Life is going in its turn.
Spectacular only on the bastion. There the defenders of Sevastopol show the most different feelings- horror, fear, sadness, surprise, etc. In the hospital, the wounded share their impressions and talk about their feelings. So a soldier who has lost a leg does not feel pain, because he does not pay attention to it. Here lies a woman whose leg was amputated because she was wounded by a shell when she was carrying lunch to her husband on the bastion.
The victims are waiting in horror for their turn for the operation, but for now they are watching the doctors and comrades, who are having their injured limbs removed. The amputated body parts are indifferently thrown into the corner. Usually war is seen as something beautiful and brilliant, with magnificent drill marches. Actually, it is not. real war- pain, blood, suffering, death...
All this could be seen in the bastions. The most dangerous bastion was the fourth. The young officer who served there did not complain about danger or fear of death, but about dirt. His overly bold and cheeky behavior is easily explained - defensive reaction to everything going on around. The closer to the fourth bastion - the less people peaceful. More often pass by you with a stretcher.
The officer in the bastion is already accustomed to war, so he is calm. He told how during the assault there was only one active gun and few people, but the next day he again activated all the guns. Once a bomb flew into a dugout, where eleven sailors died. The defenders of the bastion revealed all the features that together made up the strength of the Russian soldier - simplicity and perseverance.
The war gave their faces new expressions - anger and a thirst for revenge for the suffering and pain caused to them. People begin to play with death, as it were - a bomb that has flown not far is no longer scary, on the contrary, you want it to fall closer to you. It is clear to all Russians that it is impossible to take Sevastopol and shake the spirit of the Russian people. People are fighting not because of threats, but because of the feeling that almost every Russian experiences, but for some reason is embarrassed by it - love for the Motherland.
Sevastopol in May
The fighting in Sevastopol has been going on for six months. It seems that all the bloodshed is completely meaningless, the conflict could be resolved in a more original and simple way- a soldier would be sent from each warring side, and the side whose soldier wins wins. In general, a war is full of illogicality, such as this one - why pit armies of one hundred and thirty thousand people against each other when you can arrange a battle between two representatives of the opposing countries.
Soldiers are walking around Sevastopol. One of them is staff captain Mikhailov. He is tall, somewhat round-shouldered, awkwardness is read in his movements. A few days ago, Mikhailov received a letter from a comrade, a retired military man, who told how his wife Natasha read enthusiastically in the newspapers about the actions of Mikhailov's regiment and his own exploits.
Mikhailov bitterly recalls his former environment, because the current one categorically did not suit him. Mikhailov talked about balls in the governor's house, about playing cards with a civilian general, but his stories aroused neither interest nor confidence among the audience. They didn't show any reaction, like they just didn't want to get into an argument. Mikhailov's thoughts are occupied by the dream of promotion. On the boulevard, he meets colleagues and does not even greet them.
Mikhailov wants to spend time with the "aristocrats", which is why he walks along the boulevard. Vanity takes over these people, even though the life of each of them hangs in the balance, regardless of origin. Mikhailov hesitated for a long time whether to approach and greet people from the circle of "aristocrats", because ignoring his greeting would hurt his pride. "Aristocrats" behave arrogantly towards the staff captain. Soon they cease to pay any attention to Mikhailov and begin to talk exclusively among themselves.
At home, Mikhailov recalls that he offered to replace one sick officer on the bastion. It seems to him that the next day he will either be killed or rewarded. Mikhailov is alarmed - he tries to calm himself with thoughts that he is going to do his duty, but at the same time he thinks where they are most likely to be injured. The "aristocrats" whom Mikhailov greeted were drinking tea at Kalugin's, playing the piano and discussing their metropolitan acquaintances. They no longer acted unnaturally "pouted" because there was no one to defiantly show their "aristocratism".
Galtsin asks for advice on whether to go on a sortie, but he himself understands that fear will not let him go. Kalugin is aware of the same, so he dissuades his comrade. Going out into the street, Galtsin, without much interest, asks the wounded passing by about the course of the battle, at the same time scolding them for allegedly cowardly leaving the battlefield. Kalugin, having returned to the bastion, does not try to hide from bullets, takes a pretentious pose on horseback, in general, does everything so that those around him think that he is brave.
The general orders Praskukhin to inform Mikhailov of the forthcoming deployment of his battalion. Having successfully completed the assignment, Mikhailov and Praskukhin walk under the whistle of bullets, but they only worry about what they think of each other. Along the way, they meet Kalugin, who decided not to risk it and return. A bomb fell not far from them, as a result of which Praskukhin died, and Mikhailov was wounded in the head.
The staff captain refuses to leave the battlefield, because when wounded, a reward is laid. The next day, the "aristocrats" again walk along the boulevard and discuss the past battle. Tolstoy says they are driven by vanity. Each of them is a little Napoleon, capable of ruining a hundred lives for the sake of an extra star and an increase in salary. A truce has been declared. Russians and French communicate freely with each other, as if they are not enemies. There is talk of the inhumanity and senselessness of the war, which will subside as soon as the white flags are hidden.
Sevastopol in August 1855
Lieutenant Mikhail Kozeltsov leaves the hospital. He was quite intelligent, talented in several fields, and skilled in his stories. Kozeltsov was rather vain, pride was often the reason for his actions. At the station, Mikhail Kozeltsov meets his younger brother Volodya. The latter was supposed to serve in the guard, but for minor offenses and of his own free will he went to active army. He was glad that he would defend the Motherland, moreover, together with his brother. Volodya has mixed feelings - both pride and timidity towards his brother. A certain fear of war began to seize him, moreover, at the station he had already managed to get into debt.
Mikhail paid, and he and his brother set off. Volodya dreams of exploits and heroic beautiful death. Arriving at the farce, the brothers receive a lot of money. Everyone marvels at what Volodya left quiet life for the warring Sevastopol. In the evening, the Kozeltsovs visited Comrade Mikhail, who was seriously wounded and hoped only for death and a speedy deliverance from torment. Volodya and Mikhail went to their batteries.
Volodya was asked to spend the night in the staff captain's bunk, which Junker Vlang had already occupied. The latter still had to give up the bed. Volodya cannot fall asleep for a long time, because he is frightened by a premonition imminent death and darkness. After praying fervently, the young man calms down and falls asleep. Mikhail took command of the company he commanded before being wounded, which brings joy to his subordinates. The officers also warmly welcomed the newly arrived Kozeltsov.
Volodya in the morning began to get closer to new colleagues. Junker Vlang and Staff Captain Kraut seemed especially friendly to him. When the conversation turned to the topic of embezzlement and theft on senior positions, Volodya, somewhat embarrassed, claims that he will never do this. There are heated discussions at the commander's lunch. Suddenly, an envelope arrives, which says that on Malakhov Kurgan (incredibly dangerous place) requires an officer and servants.
No one calls himself until someone points to Volodya. Kozeltsov and Vlang are sent to fulfill the order. Volodya tries to act in accordance with the "Guide" for the artillery service, but once on the battlefield, he understands that this is impossible, since the instructions and instructions do not correlate with reality. Vlang is incredibly frightened, so he can no longer keep his cool. Volodya is both creepy and a little fun at the same time.
Volodya meets the soldiers in the blindhouse. They hope that soon they will be helped, and they will be provided two weeks vacation. Volodya and Melnikov are sitting on the threshold, and shells are falling in front of them. Soon, Volodya finally gets rid of the feeling of fear, everyone considers him very brave, while the young man himself rejoices that he is impeccably fulfilling his duties.
During the French assault, Kozeltsov jumps out onto the battlefield so that no one will think that he is a coward. Volodya was wounded in the chest. The doctor examines the wound, which turned out to be fatal, and calls the priest. Volodya wonders if the Russians were able to recapture french assault. He was told that the victory remained with the Russians, although this was not so. Kozeltsov is happy that he is dying for the Fatherland and wishes his brother the same death.
Sevastopol in the month of December “The dawn is just beginning to color the sky over Sapun Mountain; the dark blue surface of the sea has already thrown off the twilight of the night and is waiting for the first ray to sparkle with a cheerful brilliance; from the bay it carries cold and fog; there is no snow - everything is black, but the sharp morning frost grabs your face and cracks under your feet, and the distant unceasing rumble of the sea, occasionally interrupted by rolling shots in Sevastopol, alone breaks the silence of the morning ... It cannot be that at the thought that you are in Sevastopol, a feeling of some kind of courage, pride has not penetrated into your soul, and so that the blood does not begin to circulate faster in your veins ... "Despite the fact that in the city there are fighting, life goes on as usual: traders sell hot rolls, and men sell sbiten. It seems that the camp and peaceful life, everyone is fussing and frightened, but this misleading impression: most people no longer pay attention to either shots or explosions, they are busy with “everyday business”. Only on the bastions "you will see ... the defenders of Sevastopol, you will see terrible and sad, great and funny, but amazing, uplifting spectacles." that he did not think of her; a woman carrying lunch to her husband's bastion was hit by a shell, and her leg was cut off above the knee. Dressings and operations are done in a separate room. The wounded, awaiting their turn for surgery, are horrified to see how doctors amputate their comrades' arms and legs, and the paramedic indifferently throws the severed body parts into a corner. Here you can see "terrible, soul-shattering spectacles ... the war is not in the correct, beautiful and brilliant formation, with music and drumming, with fluttering banners and prancing generals, but ... war in its true expression - in blood, in suffering , in death ... ". A young officer who fought on the fourth, most dangerous bastion, complains not about the abundance of bombs and shells falling on the heads of the defenders of the bastion, but about the dirt. This is his defensive reaction to danger; he behaves too boldly, cheekily and naturally. On the way to the fourth bastion, non-military people are less and less common, and more and more often come across a stretcher with the wounded. Actually, on the bastion, the artillery officer behaves calmly (he is used to both the whistle of bullets and the roar of explosions). He tells how during the assault on the 5th, only one active gun and very few servants remained on his battery, but still the next morning he was already firing from all the guns again. The officer recalls how the bomb hit the sailor's dugout and killed eleven people. In the faces, posture, movements of the defenders of the bastion, “the main features that make up the strength of the Russian are visible - simplicity and stubbornness; but here on every face it seems to you that the danger, malice and suffering of war, in addition to these main signs, have also laid traces of consciousness of one’s dignity and lofty thoughts and feelings ... A feeling of anger, revenge on the enemy ... is hidden in the soul of everyone. When the cannonball flies directly at a person, he does not leave a feeling of pleasure and at the same time fear, and then he himself waits for the bomb to explode closer, because "there is a special charm" in such a game with death. “The main, gratifying conviction that you made is the conviction that it is impossible to take Sevastopol, and not only to take Sevastopol, but to shake the strength of the Russian people anywhere ... Because of the cross, because of the name, because of the threat people can accept these terrible conditions: there must be another high motivating reason - this reason is a feeling that rarely manifests itself, bashful in Russian, but lies in the depths of everyone's soul - love for the motherland ... This epic of Sevastopol will leave great traces in Russia for a long time, whose hero was the Russian people ... "
Lev Nikolayevich Tolstoy
"Sevastopol stories"
Sevastopol in December
“The dawn is just beginning to color the sky over Sapun Mountain; the dark blue surface of the sea has already thrown off the twilight of the night and is waiting for the first ray to sparkle with a cheerful brilliance; from the bay it carries cold and fog; there is no snow - everything is black, but the morning sharp frost grabs your face and cracks under your feet, and the distant unceasing rumble of the sea, occasionally interrupted by rolling shots in Sevastopol, alone breaks the silence of the morning ... It cannot be that at the thought that you are in Sevastopol, a feeling of some kind of courage, pride, and so that the blood does not begin to circulate faster in your veins has not penetrated into your soul ... ”Despite the fact that hostilities are going on in the city, life goes on as usual: the merchants sell hot rolls, and the peasants sell sbiten. It seems that camp and peaceful life are strangely mixed here, everyone is fussing and frightened, but this is a deceptive impression: most people no longer pay attention to either shots or explosions, they are busy with “everyday business”. Only on the bastions "you will see ... the defenders of Sevastopol, you will see terrible and sad, great and funny, but amazing, uplifting spectacles there."
In the hospital, wounded soldiers talk about their impressions: the one who lost his leg does not remember the pain, because he did not think about it; a woman carrying lunch to her husband's bastion was hit by a shell, and her leg was cut off above the knee. Dressings and operations are done in a separate room. The wounded, awaiting their turn for surgery, are horrified to see how doctors amputate their comrades' arms and legs, and the paramedic indifferently throws the severed body parts into a corner. Here you can see “terrible, soul-shattering spectacles… war not in the correct, beautiful and brilliant formation, with music and drumming, with flying banners and prancing generals, but… war in its true expression — in blood, in suffering, in death… ". A young officer who fought on the fourth, most dangerous bastion, complains not about the abundance of bombs and shells falling on the heads of the defenders of the bastion, but about the dirt. This is his defensive reaction to danger; he behaves too boldly, cheekily and at ease.
On the way to the fourth bastion, non-military people are less and less common, and stretchers with the wounded are increasingly coming across. Actually, on the bastion, the artillery officer behaves calmly (he is used to both the whistle of bullets and the roar of explosions). He tells how during the assault on the 5th, only one active gun and very few servants remained on his battery, but still the next morning he was already firing from all the guns again.
The officer recalls how the bomb hit the sailor's dugout and killed eleven people. In the faces, posture, movements of the defenders of the bastion, “the main features that make up the strength of the Russian are visible - simplicity and stubbornness; but here on every face it seems to you that the danger, malice and suffering of war, in addition to these main signs, have also laid traces of consciousness of one’s dignity and lofty thoughts and feelings ... A feeling of anger, revenge on the enemy ... lies in the soul of everyone. When the cannonball flies directly at a person, he does not leave a feeling of pleasure and at the same time fear, and then he himself waits for the bomb to explode closer, because "there is a special charm" in such a game with death. “The main, gratifying conviction that you made is the conviction that it is impossible to take Sevastopol, and not only to take Sevastopol, but to shake the strength of the Russian people anywhere ... Because of the cross, because of the name, because of the threat, they cannot accept people, these terrible conditions: there must be another high motivating reason - this reason is a feeling that rarely manifests itself, bashful in Russian, but lies in the depths of everyone's soul - love for the motherland ... This epic of Sevastopol, of which the people were the hero, will leave great traces in Russia for a long time Russian…"
Sevastopol in May
Six months have passed since the start of hostilities in Sevastopol. “Thousands of human vanities managed to be offended, thousands managed to be satisfied, puffed up, thousands - to calm down in the arms of death.” The most fair is the solution of the conflict in an original way; if two soldiers fought (one from each army), and victory would remain with the side whose soldier emerges victorious. Such a decision is logical, because it is better to fight one on one than a hundred and thirty thousand against a hundred and thirty thousand. In general, war is illogical, from Tolstoy’s point of view: “one of two things: either war is madness, or if people do this madness, then they are not rational creatures at all, as we somehow usually think”
In the besieged Sevastopol, the military walk along the boulevards. Among them is an infantry officer (headquarters captain) Mikhailov, tall, long-legged, round-shouldered and awkward person. He recently received a letter from a friend, a retired lancer, in which he writes as his wife Natasha ( close friend Mikhailov) enthusiastically follows through the newspapers the movements of his regiment and the exploits of Mikhailov himself. Mikhailov bitterly recalls his former circle, which was “so much higher than the current one that when, in moments of frankness, he happened to tell infantry comrades how he had his own droshky, how he danced at balls with the governor and played cards with a civilian general” , they listened to him indifferently, incredulously, as if not wanting only to contradict and prove the contrary
Mikhailov dreams of a promotion. He meets Captain Obzhogov and Warrant Officer Suslikov on the boulevard, employees of his regiment, and they shake hands with him, but he wants to deal not with them, but with "aristocrats" - for this he walks along the boulevard. “And since there are many people in the besieged city of Sevastopol, therefore, there is a lot of vanity, that is, aristocrats, despite the fact that death hangs every minute over the head of every aristocrat and non-aristocrat ... Vanity! It must be a characteristic feature and a special illness of our age... Why in our age there are only three kinds of people: one - accepting the beginning of vanity as a fact that necessarily exists, therefore just, and freely obeying it; others - accepting it as an unfortunate but insurmountable condition, and still others - unconsciously, slavishly acting under its influence ... "
Mikhailov twice hesitantly passes by the circle of "aristocrats" and, finally, dares to come up and say hello (before he was afraid to approach them because they might not at all honor him with an answer to the greeting and thereby prick his sick pride). The “aristocrats” are Adjutant Kalugin, Prince Galtsin, Lieutenant Colonel Neferdov and Captain Praskukhin. In relation to the approached Mikhailov, they behave rather arrogantly; for example, Galtsin takes him by the arm and walks a little back and forth only because he knows that this sign of attention should please the staff captain. But soon the "aristocrats" begin to defiantly talk only to each other, thereby making it clear to Mikhailov that they no longer need his company.
Returning home, Mikhailov recalls that he volunteered to go the next morning instead of a sick officer to the bastion. He feels that he will be killed, and if he is not killed, then surely he will be rewarded. Mikhailov consoles himself that he acted honestly, that going to the bastion is his duty. On the way, he wonders where he might be wounded - in the leg, in the stomach or in the head.
Meanwhile, the "aristocrats" are drinking tea at Kalugin's in a beautifully furnished apartment, playing the piano, remembering their St. Petersburg acquaintances. At the same time, they behave not at all so unnaturally, importantly and pompously, as they did on the boulevard, demonstrating their “aristocratism” to those around them. An infantry officer enters with an important assignment to the general, but the "aristocrats" immediately assume their former "puffed up" look and pretend that they do not notice the newcomer at all. Only after escorting the courier to the general, Kalugin is imbued with the responsibility of the moment, announces to his comrades that a “hot” business is ahead.
Galtsin asks if he should go on a sortie, knowing that he will not go anywhere, because he is afraid, and Kalugin begins to dissuade Galtsin, also knowing that he will not go anywhere. Galtsin goes out into the street and begins to walk aimlessly back and forth, not forgetting to ask the wounded passing by how the battle is going, and scolding them for retreating. Kalugin, having gone to the bastion, does not forget to demonstrate his courage to everyone along the way: he does not bend down when the bullets whistle, he takes a dashing pose on horseback. He is unpleasantly struck by the "cowardice" of the battery commander, whose bravery is legendary.
Not wanting to take unnecessary risks, the battery commander, who spent half a year on the bastion, in response to Kalugin's demand to inspect the bastion, sends Kalugin to the guns along with a young officer. The general gives the order to Praskukhin to notify Mikhailov's battalion of the redeployment. He successfully delivers the order. In the dark, under enemy fire, the battalion begins to move. At the same time, Mikhailov and Praskukhin, walking side by side, think only about the impression they make on each other. They meet Kalugin, who, not wanting to "expose himself" once again, learns about the situation on the bastion from Mikhailov and turns back. A bomb explodes next to them, Praskukhin dies, and Mikhailov is wounded in the head. He refuses to go to the dressing station, because it is his duty to be with the company, and besides, he has a reward for the wound. He also believes that his duty is to pick up the wounded Praskukhin or make sure that he is dead. Mikhailov crawls back under fire, is convinced of the death of Praskukhin and returns with a clear conscience.
“Hundreds of fresh, bloodied bodies of people, two hours ago full of various high and small hopes and desires, with stiff limbs, lay on a dewy flowering valley that separates the bastion from the trench, and on the flat floor of the chapel of the Dead in Sevastopol; hundreds of people - with curses and prayers on parched lips - crawled, tossed and groaned, some among the corpses on a flowering valley, others on stretchers, on cots and on the bloodied floor dressing station; and all the same as in the old days, the lightning lit up over Sapun Mountain, the twinkling stars grew pale, pulled white mist from the noisy dark sea, a scarlet dawn lit up in the east, crimson long clouds fled across the light azure horizon, and just like in previous days, promising joy, love and happiness to the whole revived world, a mighty, beautiful luminary emerged.
The next day, "aristocrats" and other military men stroll along the boulevard and vied with each other to talk about yesterday's "case", but in such a way that they basically state "the participation that he took and the courage that the narrator showed in the case." “Each of them is a little Napoleon, a little monster, and now he is ready to start a battle, kill a hundred people just to get an extra star or a third of his salary.”
A truce has been declared between the Russians and the French, simple soldiers freely communicate with each other and seem to have no enmity towards the enemy. The young cavalry officer is simply delighted to be able to chat in French, thinking he is incredibly smart. He discusses with the French what an inhuman deed they started together, referring to the war. At this time, the boy walks around the battlefield, collects blue wildflowers and looks at the corpses in surprise. White flags are displayed everywhere.
“Thousands of people crowd, look, talk and smile at each other. And these people are Christians who profess one great law of love and selflessness, looking at what they have done, they will not suddenly fall with repentance on their knees before the one who, having given them life, put into the soul of everyone, along with the fear of death, love for good and beautiful, and with tears of joy and happiness will not embrace like brothers? Not! White rags are hidden - and again the instruments of death and suffering whistle, pure innocent blood is shed again and groans and curses are heard ... Where is the expression of evil, which should be avoided? Where is the expression of the good that should be imitated in this story? Who is the villain, who is her hero? Everyone is good and everyone is bad ... The hero of my story, whom I love with all the strength of my soul, whom I tried to reproduce in all its beauty and who has always been, is and will be beautiful, is true "
Sevastopol in August 1855
Lieutenant Mikhail Kozeltsov, a respected officer, independent in his judgments and in his actions, not stupid, in many ways talented, a skilled drafter of state papers and a capable storyteller, is returning to his position from the hospital. “He had one of those self-esteem, which merged with life to such an extent and which most often develops in some male, and especially military circles, that he did not understand any other choice, how to excel or be destroyed, and that self-esteem was the engine even of his internal motives."
A lot of people passing by have accumulated at the station: there are no horses. Some officers heading to Sevastopol do not even have lifting money, and they do not know how to continue their journey. Among those waiting is Kozeltsov's brother, Volodya. Contrary to family plans, Volodya did not join the guard for minor misconduct, but was sent (according to his own will) to the active army. He, like any young officer, really wants to “fight for the Fatherland”, and at the same time serve in the same place where his elder brother is.
Volodya is a handsome young man, he is both shy in front of his brother and proud of him. The elder Kozeltsov invites his brother to immediately go with him to Sevastopol. Volodya seems to be embarrassed; he no longer really wants to go to war, and, besides, he, sitting at the station, managed to lose eight rubles. Kozeltsov pays his brother's debt with the last money, and they set off. On the way, Volodya dreams of heroic deeds, which he will certainly commit in the war with his brother, about his beautiful death and dying reproaches to everyone else for not being able to appreciate “truly loving Fatherland” during their lifetime, etc.
Upon arrival, the brothers go to the booth of a convoy officer, who counts a lot of money for a new one. regimental commander, acquiring "economy". No one understands what made Volodya leave his calm place in the far rear and come to the warring Sevastopol without any profit. The battery, to which Volodya is seconded, stands on Korabelnaya, and both brothers go to spend the night with Mikhail on the fifth bastion. Before that, they visit Comrade Kozeltsov in the hospital. He is so bad that he does not immediately recognize Michael, he is waiting for an early death as a deliverance from suffering.
Leaving the hospital, the brothers decide to disperse, and, accompanied by the batman Mikhail Volodya, goes to his battery. The battery commander offers Volodya to spend the night in the staff captain's bed, which is located on the bastion itself. However, Junker Vlang is already sleeping on the bunk; he has to give way to the ensign (Voloda) who has arrived. At first Volodya cannot sleep; he is now frightened by the darkness, then by a premonition of imminent death. He fervently prays for deliverance from fear, calms down and falls asleep to the sound of falling shells.
Meanwhile, Kozeltsov Sr. arrives at the disposal of the new regimental commander - his recent comrade, now separated from him by a wall of subordination. The commander is unhappy that Kozeltsov is returning to duty prematurely, but instructs him to take command of his former company. In the company, Kozeltsov is greeted joyfully; it is noticeable that he enjoys great respect among the soldiers. Among the officers, he also expects a warm welcome and a sympathetic attitude towards the wound.
The next day, the bombardment continues with new force. Volodya begins to enter the circle of artillery officers; one can see their mutual sympathy for each other. Volodya is especially liked by the junker Vlang, who in every possible way foresees any desires of the new ensign. The good Captain Kraut, a German, who speaks Russian very correctly and too beautifully, returns from the positions. There is talk of abuse and legalized theft in senior positions. Volodya, blushing, assures the audience that such an "ignoble" deed will never happen to him.
Everyone is interested at lunch at the battery commander's, the conversations do not stop despite the fact that the menu is very modest. An envelope arrives from the chief of artillery; an officer with servants is required for a mortar battery on Malakhov Kurgan. This is a dangerous place; no one volunteers to go. One of the officers points to Volodya and, after a short discussion, he agrees to go "shoot" Together with Volodya, Vlang is sent. Volodya takes up the study of the "Guide" on artillery firing. However, upon arrival at the battery, all “rear” knowledge turns out to be unnecessary: firing is carried out randomly, not a single shot even resembles those mentioned in the “Manual” by weight, there are no workers to repair broken guns. In addition, two soldiers of his team are wounded, and Volodya himself repeatedly finds himself on the verge of death.
Vlang is very scared; he is no longer able to hide it and thinks exclusively about salvation own life at any price. Volodya is "a little creepy and fun." Volodya's soldiers are holed up in Volodya's dugout. He communicates with interest with Melnikov, who is not afraid of bombs, being sure that he will die a different death. Having got used to the new commander, the soldiers under Volodya begin to discuss how the allies under the command of Prince Konstantin will come to their aid, how both warring parties will be given a rest for two weeks, and then they will take a fine for each shot, how in the war a month of service will be considered as year, etc.
Despite Vlang's pleas, Volodya leaves the dugout for fresh air and sits on the doorstep with Melnikov until morning, while bombs fall around him and bullets whistle. But in the morning the battery and guns were put in order, and Volodya completely forgot about the danger; he only rejoices that he performs his duties well, that he does not show cowardice, but, on the contrary, is considered brave.
The French assault begins. Sleepy Kozeltsov jumps out to the company, awake most of all preoccupied with not to be seen as a coward. He grabs his little saber and runs ahead of everyone at the enemy, shouting to inspire the soldiers. He is wounded in the chest. Waking up, Kozeltsov sees the doctor examining his wound, wiping his fingers on his coat and sending a priest to him. Kozeltsov asks if the French have been driven out; the priest, not wanting to upset the dying man, says that the Russians have won. Kozeltsov is happy; “He thought with an extremely gratifying feeling of self-satisfaction that he had done his duty well, that for the first time in his entire service he had acted as well as he could, and could not reproach himself with anything.” He dies with the last thought of his brother, and Kozeltsov wishes him the same happiness.
The news of the assault finds Volodya in the dugout. "It was not so much the sight of the calmness of the soldiers as the miserable, undisguised cowardice of the junker that aroused him." Not wanting to be like Vlang, Volodya commands lightly, even cheerfully, but soon hears that the French are bypassing them. He sees very close enemy soldiers, it strikes him so much that he freezes in place and misses the moment when he can still be saved. Melnikov dies next to him from a bullet wound. Vlang tries to shoot back, calls Volodya to run after him, but, jumping into the trench, he sees that Volodya is already dead, and in the place where he just stood, the French are and shoot at the Russians. The French banner flutters over the Malakhov Kurgan.
Vlang with a battery on a steamboat arrives in a safer part of the city. He bitterly mourns the fallen Volodya; to which he was truly attached. The retreating soldiers, talking among themselves, notice that the French will not be staying in the city for long. “It was a feeling, as if similar to remorse, shame and anger. Almost every soldier, looking from north side on the abandoned Sevastopol, with inexpressible bitterness in his heart he sighed and threatened his enemies.
Sevastopol in December
There are fights in the city, but life goes on: they sell hot buns, sbiten. Life camp and peace strangely mixed up. People no longer pay attention to shots and explosions. The wounded in the hospital share their impressions. The one who lost his leg does not remember the pain. Those awaiting surgery watch in horror as their arms and legs are amputated. The paramedic throws the cut off into the corner. Here the war is not in the right order with music, but blood, suffering, death. A young officer from the 4th, the most dangerous bastion, complains not about bombs, but about dirt. Increasingly rare on the way to the 4th fortification, non-military people are encountered and more often they carry the wounded. The artilleryman says that on the 5th there was only one gun left and few servants, and in the morning they were again firing from all the guns. The officer recalled how the bomb fell into the dugout and killed 11 people. The defenders of the bastion show the features that make up the strength of the people: simplicity and stubbornness, dignity and lofty thoughts and feelings. In the epic of Sevastopol, the Russian people became a hero.
Sevastopol in May
Six months have passed since the fighting in Sevastopol. Thousands calmed down in the arms of death. It is more fair that two soldiers fight - one from each army. And the victory of that side was counted, whose soldier won. After all, war is crazy. Soldiers walk around the besieged Sevastopol. Infantry officer Mikhailov, a tall, stooping, awkward man, received a letter with a story about how his wife, Natasha, was following the events in the newspapers. He is vain, he wants to be promoted. Mikhailov hesitantly goes to the adjutant Kalugin, Prince Galtsin and others who make up the circle of aristocrats. They are arrogant and, having paid attention, they begin to talk to each other, demonstrating that they do not need Mikhailov's company. The officer goes to the bastion and wonders where he will be wounded. Aristocrats drink tea, listen to the piano, chat. An infantry officer enters with an important mission - and everyone looks puffed up. It's going to be hot.
Galtsin is afraid of attacks on the front line. He walks down the street, asking the wounded how the battle is going and scolds that they are retreating. Kalugin on the bastion demonstrates courage: he does not bend, he famously sits on horseback. He is struck by alleged cowardice legendary commander batteries.
Under fire, the battalion is redeploying. Mikhailov and Praskukhin meet Kalugin, he learns about the position of the bastion from Mikhailov, turns back, where it is safer. A bomb explodes and Praskukhin dies. Mikhailov, although wounded, does not go for dressing, remains with the company. Crawling under fire, he is convinced of the death of Praskukhin.
And the next day, the aristocrats are again walking along the boulevard, talking about a hot case, as if everyone had accomplished a feat.
Sevastopol in August 1855
Mikhail Kozeltsov, a lieutenant respected for independence in judgments and actions, is going to the position from the hospital. There are no horses at the station. The brother of Kozeltsov is also here. Volodya, of his own free will, goes to fight for the Fatherland where his older brother is. Arriving at the place, the brothers go to spend the night at the 5th bastion. Volodya goes to his battery. The darkness frightens him, he cannot sleep and prays for deliverance from fear.
Kozeltsov Sr. took command of his own company, where he is welcome. The bombing continues with renewed vigor. An officer was needed for Malakhov Kurgan. The place is dangerous, but Kozeltsov agrees. He was on the verge of death several times. The guns on the battery are already in order, and Volodya, forgetting about the danger, is glad that he did it and is considered brave. The assault begins. Kozeltsov runs ahead of the company with his saber. He is wounded in the chest. The doctor, having examined the wound, calls the priest. Kozeltsov is interested in whether the French have been knocked out. Not wanting to upset the mortally wounded, the priest assures the victory of the Russians. Volodya dies with the thought of his brother.
The French banner flutters over the Malakhov Kurgan. But the retreating soldiers are sure that the French will not stay here for long.
Compositions
Composition based on the cycle of "Sevastopol stories" by L. TolstoySevastopol in December
“The dawn is just beginning to color the sky over Sapun Mountain; the dark blue surface of the sea has already thrown off the twilight of the night and is waiting for the first ray to sparkle with a cheerful brilliance; from the bay it carries cold and fog; there is no snow - everything is black, but the sharp morning frost grabs your face and cracks under your feet, and the distant unceasing roar of the sea, occasionally interrupted by rolling shots in Sevastopol, alone breaks the silence of the morning ... It cannot be that at the thought that you are in Sevastopol, a feeling of some kind of courage, pride, and so that the blood does not begin to circulate faster in your veins has not penetrated into your soul ... ”Despite the fact that hostilities are going on in the city, life goes on as usual: the merchants sell hot rolls, and the peasants sell sbiten. It seems that camp and peaceful life are strangely mixed here, everyone is fussing and frightened, but this is a deceptive impression: most people no longer pay attention to either shots or explosions, they are busy with “everyday business”. Only on the bastions "you will see ... the defenders of Sevastopol, you will see terrible and sad, great and funny, but amazing, uplifting spectacles there."
In the hospital, wounded soldiers talk about their impressions: the one who lost his leg does not remember the pain, because he did not think about it; a woman carrying lunch to her husband's bastion was hit by a shell, and her leg was cut off above the knee. Dressings and operations are done in a separate room. The wounded, awaiting their turn for surgery, are horrified to see how doctors amputate their comrades' arms and legs, and the paramedic indifferently throws the severed body parts into a corner. Here you can see “terrible, soul-shattering spectacles… war not in the correct, beautiful and brilliant formation, with music and drumming, with fluttering banners and prancing generals, but… war in its true expression – in blood, in suffering, in death… ". A young officer who fought on the fourth, most dangerous bastion, complains not about the abundance of bombs and shells falling on the heads of the defenders of the bastion, but about the dirt. This is his defensive reaction to danger; he behaves too boldly, cheekily and naturally.
On the way to the fourth bastion, non-military people are less and less common, and stretchers with the wounded come across more and more often. Actually, on the bastion, the artillery officer behaves calmly (he is used to the whistle of bullets and the roar of explosions). He tells how during the assault on the 5th, only one active gun and very few servants remained on his battery, but still the next morning he was already firing from all the guns again.
The officer recalls how the bomb hit the sailor's dugout and killed eleven people. In the faces, posture, movements of the defenders of the bastion, one can see “the main features that make up the strength of the Russian - simplicity and stubbornness; but here on every face it seems to you that the danger, malice and suffering of war, in addition to these main signs, have also laid traces of consciousness of one’s dignity and lofty thoughts and feelings ... A feeling of anger, revenge on the enemy ... is hidden in the soul of everyone. When the cannonball flies directly at a person, he does not leave a feeling of pleasure and at the same time fear, and then he himself waits for the bomb to explode closer, because “there is a special charm” in such a game with death. “The main, gratifying conviction that you made is the conviction that it is impossible to take Sevastopol, and not only to take Sevastopol, but to shake the strength of the Russian people anywhere ... Because of the cross, because of the name, because of the threat, they cannot accept people, these terrible conditions: there must be another high motivating reason - this reason is a feeling that rarely manifests itself, bashful in Russian, but lies in the depths of everyone's soul - love for the motherland ... This epic of Sevastopol, of which the people were the hero, will leave great traces in Russia for a long time Russian…"
Sevastopol in May
Six months have passed since the start of hostilities in Sevastopol. “Thousands of people's vanities had time to be offended, thousands had time to be satisfied, puffed up, thousands - to calm down in the arms of death” The most fair is the solution of the conflict in an original way; if two soldiers fought (one from each army), and victory would remain with the side whose soldier emerges victorious. Such a decision is logical, because it is better to fight one on one than a hundred and thirty thousand against a hundred and thirty thousand. In general, war is illogical, from the point of view of Tolstoy: “one of two things: either war is madness, or if people do this madness, then they are not rational creatures at all, as we somehow usually think”
In the besieged Sevastopol, military men walk along the boulevards. Among them is an infantry officer (headquarters captain) Mikhailov, a tall, long-legged, stooped and awkward man. He recently received a letter from a friend, a retired lancer, in which he writes how his wife Natasha (Mikhailov's close friend) enthusiastically follows through the newspapers the movements of his regiment and the exploits of Mikhailov himself. Mikhailov bitterly recalls his former circle, which was “so much higher than the present that when, in moments of frankness, he happened to tell his infantry comrades how he had his own droshky, how he danced at balls with the governor and played cards with a civilian general” , they listened to him indifferently, incredulously, as if not wanting only to contradict and prove the contrary
Mikhailov dreams of a promotion. He meets Captain Obzhogov and Ensign Suslikov on the boulevard, employees of his regiment, and they shake hands with him, but he wants to deal not with them, but with “aristocrats” - for this he walks along the boulevard. “And since there are many people in the besieged city of Sevastopol, therefore, there is a lot of vanity, that is, aristocrats, despite the fact that every minute death hangs over the head of every aristocrat and non-aristocrat ... Vanity! It must be a characteristic feature and a special disease of our age... Why in our age there are only three kinds of people: one - accepting the beginning of vanity as a fact that necessarily exists, therefore just, and freely obeying it; others - accepting it as an unfortunate but insurmountable condition, and still others - unconsciously, slavishly acting under its influence ... "
Mikhailov twice hesitantly passes by a circle of "aristocrats" and, finally, dares to come up and say hello (he had previously been afraid to approach them because they might not at all honor him with an answer to the greeting and thereby prick his sick pride). “Aristocrats” are Adjutant Kalugin, Prince Galtsin, Lieutenant Colonel Neferdov and Captain Praskukhin. In relation to the approached Mikhailov, they behave rather arrogantly; for example, Galtsin takes him by the arm and walks a little back and forth only because he knows that this sign of attention should please the staff captain. But soon the “aristocrats” begin defiantly talking only to each other, thereby making it clear to Mikhailov that they no longer need his company.
Returning home, Mikhailov recalls that he volunteered to go the next morning instead of a sick officer to the bastion. He feels that he will be killed, and if he is not killed, then surely he will be rewarded. Mikhailov consoles himself that he acted honestly, that going to the bastion is his duty. On the way, he wonders where he might be wounded - in the leg, in the stomach or in the head.
Meanwhile, the "aristocrats" are drinking tea at Kalugin's in a beautifully furnished apartment, playing the piano, remembering their St. Petersburg acquaintances. At the same time, they behave not at all so unnaturally, importantly and pompously, as they did on the boulevard, demonstrating their “aristocratism” to those around them. An infantry officer enters with an important assignment to the general, but the "aristocrats" immediately assume their former "puffed out" look and pretend that they do not notice the newcomer at all. Only after escorting the courier to the general, Kalugin is imbued with the responsibility of the moment, announces to his comrades that a “hot” business is ahead.
Galtsin asks if he should go on a sortie, knowing that he will not go anywhere, because he is afraid, and Kalugin begins to dissuade Galtsin, also knowing that he will not go anywhere. Galtsin goes out into the street and begins to walk aimlessly back and forth, not forgetting to ask the wounded passing by how the battle is going, and scolding them for retreating. Kalugin, having gone to the bastion, does not forget to demonstrate his courage to everyone along the way: he does not bend down when the bullets whistle, he takes a dashing pose on horseback. He is unpleasantly struck by the "cowardice" of the battery commander, whose bravery is legendary.
Not wanting to take unnecessary risks, the battery commander, who spent half a year on the bastion, in response to Kalugin's demand to inspect the bastion, sends Kalugin to the guns along with a young officer. The general orders Praskukhin to notify Mikhailov's battalion of the redeployment. He successfully delivers the order. In the dark, under enemy fire, the battalion begins to move. At the same time, Mikhailov and Praskukhin, walking side by side, think only about the impression they make on each other. They meet Kalugin, who, not wanting to "expose himself" once again, learns about the situation on the bastion from Mikhailov and turns back. A bomb explodes next to them, Praskukhin dies, and Mikhailov is wounded in the head. He refuses to go to the dressing station, because it is his duty to be with the company, and besides, he has a reward for the wound. He also believes that his duty is to pick up the wounded Praskukhin or make sure that he is dead. Mikhailov crawls back under fire, becomes convinced of the death of Praskukhin and returns with a clear conscience.
“Hundreds of fresh bloodied bodies of people, two hours ago full of various high and small hopes and desires, with stiff limbs, lay on the dewy flowering valley that separates the bastion from the trench, and on the flat floor of the chapel of the Dead in Sevastopol; hundreds of people - with curses and prayers on parched lips - crawled, tossed and groaned - some among the corpses in a flowering valley, others on stretchers, on cots and on the bloody floor of the dressing station; and all the same, as in the old days, the lightning lit up over Sapun Mountain, the twinkling stars turned pale, a white fog pulled from the noisy dark sea, a scarlet dawn lit up in the east, crimson long clouds fled across the light azure horizon, and everything is the same , as in former days, promising joy, love and happiness to the whole revived world, a mighty, beautiful luminary emerged.
The next day, “aristocrats” and other military men stroll along the boulevard and vied with each other to talk about yesterday’s “affair”, but in such a way that they basically describe “the participation that he took and the courage that the narrator showed in the deed”. “Each of them is a little Napoleon, a little monster, and now he is ready to start a battle, to kill a hundred people just to get an extra star or a third of his salary.”
A truce has been declared between the Russians and the French, ordinary soldiers freely communicate with each other and, it seems, do not feel any enmity towards the enemy. The young cavalry officer is simply delighted to be able to chat in French, thinking he is incredibly smart. He discusses with the French what an inhuman deed they started together, referring to the war. At this time, the boy walks around the battlefield, picking blue wild flowers and looking askance at the corpses in surprise. White flags are displayed everywhere.
“Thousands of people crowd, look, talk and smile at each other. And these people, Christians, professing one great law of love and self-sacrifice, looking at what they have done, will not suddenly fall with repentance on their knees before the one who, having given them life, put into the soul of everyone, along with the fear of death, love for good and beautiful, and with tears of joy and happiness will not embrace like brothers? Not! White rags are hidden - and again the instruments of death and suffering whistle, pure innocent blood is shed again and groans and curses are heard ... Where is the expression of evil, which should be avoided? Where is the expression of the good that should be imitated in this story? Who is the villain, who is her hero? Everyone is good and everyone is bad ... The hero of my story, whom I love with all the strength of my soul, whom I tried to reproduce in all its beauty and who has always been, is and will be beautiful, is true ”
Sevastopol in August 1855
Lieutenant Mikhail Kozeltsov, a respected officer, independent in his judgments and in his actions, not stupid, in many ways talented, a skilled drafter of government papers and a capable storyteller, returns to his position from the hospital. “He had one of those self-esteem, which merged with life to such an extent and which most often develops in some male, and especially military circles, that he did not understand any other choice, how to excel or be destroyed, and that self-esteem was the engine even of his internal motives."
A lot of people passing by have accumulated at the station: there are no horses. Some of the officers heading to Sevastopol do not even have lifting money, and they do not know how to continue their journey. Among those waiting is Kozeltsov's brother, Volodya. Contrary to family plans, Volodya, for minor misconduct, did not join the guard, but was sent (at his own request) to the active army. He, like any young officer, really wants to “fight for the Fatherland”, and at the same time serve in the same place as his elder brother.
Volodya is a handsome young man, he is both shy in front of his brother and proud of him. The elder Kozeltsov invites his brother to immediately go with him to Sevastopol. Volodya seems to be embarrassed; he no longer really wants to go to war, and, besides, he, sitting at the station, managed to lose eight rubles. Kozeltsov pays his brother's debt with the last money, and they set off. On the way, Volodya dreams of the heroic deeds that he will certainly accomplish in the war with his brother, of his beautiful death and dying reproaches to everyone else for not being able to appreciate “truly loving Fatherland” during their lifetime, etc.
Upon arrival, the brothers go to the booth of a convoy officer, who counts a lot of money for the new regimental commander, who is acquiring a “household”. No one understands what made Volodya leave his quiet place in the far rear and come to the warring Sevastopol without any profit. The battery, to which Volodya is seconded, stands on Korabelnaya, and both brothers go to spend the night with Mikhail on the fifth bastion. Before that, they visit Comrade Kozeltsov in the hospital. He is so bad that he does not immediately recognize Michael, he is waiting for an imminent death as deliverance from suffering.
Leaving the hospital, the brothers decide to disperse, and, accompanied by the batman Mikhail Volodya, goes to his battery. The battery commander offers Volodya to spend the night in the staff captain's bed, which is located on the bastion itself. However, Junker Vlang is already sleeping on the bunk; he has to give way to the ensign (Voloda) who has arrived. At first Volodya cannot sleep; he is now frightened by the darkness, then by a premonition of imminent death. He fervently prays for deliverance from fear, calms down and falls asleep to the sound of falling shells.
Meanwhile, Kozeltsov Sr. arrives at the disposal of the new regimental commander - his recent comrade, now separated from him by a wall of subordination. The commander is unhappy that Kozeltsov is returning to duty prematurely, but instructs him to take command of his former company. In the company, Kozeltsov is greeted joyfully; it is noticeable that he enjoys great respect among the soldiers. Among the officers, he also expects a warm welcome and a sympathetic attitude towards the wound.
The next day, the bombardment continues with renewed vigor. Volodya begins to enter the circle of artillery officers; one can see their mutual sympathy for each other. Volodya is especially liked by the junker Vlang, who in every possible way foresees any desires of the new ensign. The good Captain Kraut, a German, who speaks Russian very correctly and too beautifully, returns from the positions. There is talk of abuse and legalized theft in senior positions. Volodya, blushing, assures the audience that such an "ignoble" deed will never happen to him.
Everyone is interested at lunch at the battery commander's, the conversations do not stop despite the fact that the menu is very modest. An envelope arrives from the chief of artillery; an officer with servants is required for a mortar battery on Malakhov Kurgan. This is a dangerous place; no one volunteers to go. One of the officers points to Volodya and, after a short discussion, he agrees to go “shoot on it”. Together with Volodya, Vlang is sent. Volodya takes up the study of the "Guide" on artillery firing. However, upon arrival at the battery, all “rear” knowledge turns out to be unnecessary: firing is carried out randomly, not a single shot even resembles those mentioned in the “Manual” by weight, there are no workers to repair broken guns. In addition, two soldiers of his team are wounded, and Volodya himself repeatedly finds himself on the verge of death.
Vlang is very scared; he is no longer able to hide it and thinks solely about saving his own life at any cost. Volodya is “a little creepy and fun.” Volodya's soldiers are holed up in Volodya's dugout. He communicates with interest with Melnikov, who is not afraid of bombs, being sure that he will die a different death. Having got used to the new commander, the soldiers under Volodya begin to discuss how the allies under the command of Prince Konstantin will come to their aid, how both warring parties will be given a rest for two weeks, and then they will take a fine for each shot, how in the war a month of service will be considered as year, etc.
Despite Vlang's pleas, Volodya leaves the dugout for fresh air and sits on the doorstep with Melnikov until morning, while bombs fall around him and bullets whistle. But in the morning the battery and guns were put in order, and Volodya completely forgot about the danger; he only rejoices that he performs his duties well, that he does not show cowardice, but, on the contrary, is considered brave.
The French assault begins. Half-asleep, Kozeltsov jumps out to the company, awake, most of all concerned that he should not be considered a coward. He grabs his little saber and runs ahead of everyone at the enemy, shouting to inspire the soldiers. He is wounded in the chest. Waking up, Kozeltsov sees the doctor examining his wound, wiping his fingers on his coat and sending a priest to him. Kozeltsov asks if the French have been driven out; the priest, not wanting to upset the dying man, says that the Russians have won. Kozeltsov is happy; “He thought with an extremely gratifying feeling of self-satisfaction that he had done his duty well, that for the first time in his entire service he had acted as well as he could, and he could not reproach himself with anything.” He dies with the last thought of his brother, and Kozeltsov wishes him the same happiness.
The news of the assault finds Volodya in the dugout. “It was not so much the sight of the calmness of the soldiers as the miserable, undisguised cowardice of the junker that aroused him.” Not wanting to be like Vlang, Volodya commands lightly, even cheerfully, but soon hears that the French are bypassing them. He sees enemy soldiers very close, it strikes him so much that he freezes in place and misses the moment when he can still be saved. Melnikov dies next to him from a bullet wound. Vlang tries to shoot back, calls Volodya to run after him, but, jumping into the trench, he sees that Volodya is already dead, and in the place where he just stood, the French are and shoot at the Russians. The French banner flutters over the Malakhov Kurgan.
Vlang with a battery on a steamboat arrives in a safer part of the city. He bitterly mourns the fallen Volodya; to which he was truly attached. The retreating soldiers, talking among themselves, notice that the French will not be staying in the city for long. “It was a feeling, as if similar to remorse, shame and anger. Almost every soldier, looking from the northern side at the abandoned Sevastopol, sighed with inexpressible bitterness in his heart and threatened the enemies.
Option 2
Sevastopol in December
There are fights in the city, but life goes on: they sell hot buns, sbiten. Life camp and peace strangely mixed up. People no longer pay attention to shots and explosions. The wounded in the hospital share their impressions. The one who lost his leg does not remember the pain. Those awaiting surgery watch in horror as their arms and legs are amputated. The paramedic throws the cut off into the corner. Here the war is not in the right order with music, but blood, suffering, death. A young officer from the 4th, the most dangerous bastion, complains not about bombs, but about dirt. On the way to the 4th fortification, non-military people are encountered less and less often, and more often they carry the wounded. The artilleryman says that on the 5th there was only one gun left and few servants, and in the morning they were again firing from all the guns. The officer recalled how the bomb fell into the dugout and killed 11 people. The defenders of the bastion show the features that make up the strength of the people: simplicity and stubbornness, dignity and lofty thoughts and feelings. In the epic of Sevastopol, the Russian people became a hero.
Sevastopol in May
Six months have passed since the fighting in Sevastopol. Thousands calmed down in the arms of death. It is more fair that two soldiers fight - one from each army. And the victory of that side was counted, whose soldier won. After all, war is crazy. Soldiers walk around the besieged Sevastopol. Infantry officer Mikhailov, a tall, stooping, awkward man, received a letter with a story about how his wife, Natasha, was following the events in the newspapers. He is vain, he wants to be promoted. Mikhailov hesitantly goes to the adjutant Kalugin, Prince Galtsin and others who make up the circle of aristocrats. They are arrogant and, having paid attention, they begin to talk to each other, demonstrating that they do not need Mikhailov's company. The officer goes to the bastion and wonders where he will be wounded. Aristocrats drink tea, listen to the piano, chat. An infantry officer enters with an important mission - and everyone looks puffed up. It's going to be hot.
Galtsin is afraid of attacks on the front line. He walks down the street, asking the wounded how the battle is going and scolds that they are retreating. Kalugin on the bastion demonstrates courage: he does not bend, he famously sits on horseback. He is struck by the alleged cowardice of the legendary battery commander.
Under fire, the battalion is redeploying. Mikhailov and Praskukhin meet Kalugin, he learns about the position of the bastion from Mikhailov, turns back, where it is safer. A bomb explodes and Praskukhin dies. Mikhailov, although wounded, does not go for dressing, remains with the company. Crawling under fire, he is convinced of the death of Praskukhin.
And the next day, the aristocrats are again walking along the boulevard, talking about a hot case, as if everyone had accomplished a feat.
Sevastopol in August 1855
Mikhail Kozeltsov, a lieutenant respected for independence in judgments and actions, is going to the position from the hospital. There are no horses at the station. The brother of Kozeltsov is also here. Volodya, of his own free will, goes to fight for the Fatherland where his older brother is. Arriving at the place, the brothers go to spend the night at the 5th bastion. Volodya goes to his battery. The darkness frightens him, he cannot sleep and prays for deliverance from fear.
Kozeltsov Sr. took command of his own company, where he is welcome. The bombing continues with renewed vigor. An officer was needed for Malakhov Kurgan. The place is dangerous, but Kozeltsov agrees. He was on the verge of death several times. The guns on the battery are already in order, and Volodya, forgetting about the danger, is glad that he did it and is considered brave. The assault begins. Kozeltsov runs ahead of the company with his saber. He is wounded in the chest. The doctor, having examined the wound, calls the priest. Kozeltsov is interested in whether the French have been knocked out. Not wanting to upset the mortally wounded, the priest assures the victory of the Russians. Volodya dies with the thought of his brother. (No ratings yet) Prisoner of the Caucasus Officer Zhilin served in the Caucasus. He received a letter from his mother, and he decided to go home on vacation. But on the way, he and another Russian officer Kostylin were captured by the Tatars. It happened through the fault of Kostylin. He was supposed to cover Read More ......
Leo Tolstoy wrote "Sevastopol Tales" (the first part) a month after the siege in 1854. This is an imaginary tour of the city. Summary "Sevastopol stories" is not able to convey, of course, the entire depth of the work. Addressing the reader as "you", the author invites him to become a witness of what happened in the hospitals, on the redoubts and bastions of the besieged city.
"Sevastopol stories": summary 1 part about the events in December 1854
In December 1854, there was no snow in Sevastopol, but it was frosty. The usual military morning began in the city. On the approach to the pier, the air was filled with the smells of manure, coal, dampness and meat. People crowded on the pier: soldiers, sailors, merchants, women. Steamboats and skiffs, filled with people, constantly moored and set sail.
At the thought that he was in Sevastopol, the soul was filled with pride and courage, and the blood began to flow faster through the veins. Though a sight representing a mixture beautiful city and a dirty military bivouac or military camp, it was terrible.
In the Sevastopol hospital, which is located in the large Assembly Hall, the wounded communicate. One sailor does not remember the pain, although he lost his leg. Another patient is lying on the floor, a bandaged remnant of a hand peeps out from under the blanket. From him comes a suffocating bad smell. Nearby lies a sailor woman without a leg, she brought her husband lunch on the bastion and came under fire. The wounded were bandaged right in the operating room, they watched the amputations with horror, hearing the screams and groans of the sick. Suffering, blood and death all around.
The most dangerous place is the fourth bastion. An officer, calmly walking from embrasure to embrasure, says that after the bombardment, only one gun and only eight people remained in action on his battery, but the next morning he was already firing again from all his cannons. From the embrasure you can see the enemy fortifications - they are close. In the sailors serving the gun, in the width of their shoulders, in every muscle, in their every firm and unhurried movement, the components of Russian strength are visible - simplicity and stubbornness. Anyone who saw this would understand that it is impossible to take Sevastopol.
"Sevastopol stories": a summary of the 2nd part about the events in May 1855
Already half a year of the war for Sevastopol. Many human ambitions were offended, thousands were satisfied, but thousands calmed down, embraced by death. One can doubt the presence of reason among the belligerents, because war is illogical - it is madness.
Among those walking along the boulevard is the infantry staff captain Mikhailov, who, in addition to awards and money, wants to enter the circle of the military "aristocracy". It was formed by Adjutant Kalugin, Prince Galtsin, Lieutenant Colonel Neferdov and Captain Praskukhin. They are arrogant towards Mikhailov.
The next morning, Mikhailov goes instead of the officer who fell ill for the thirteenth time to the bastion. A bomb exploded next to him, and Praskukhin was killed. Kalugin also went there, but to the headquarters. Wanting to inspect the fortifications, he asks the captain to show them. But the captain has been fighting on the bastion for half a year without getting out, and not from time to time, like Kalugin. The period of vanity and risk has already passed, he has already received awards and understands that his luck is coming to an end. Therefore, he entrusts the adjutant to a young lieutenant, with whom they uselessly compete in risk, it seems to them that they are bolder than the captain.
"Sevastopol stories": a summary of the 3rd part about the events in August 1855
Mikhail Kozeltsov, an officer who was respected in the troops, returned to the besieged Sevastopol after being wounded. There were a lot of people at the station. There are not enough horses for everyone. Among those waiting, Mikhail meets his own brother Vladimir, who is heading to the active troops as an ensign.
Volodya was seconded to a battery located on Korabelnaya. The ensign cannot sleep for a long time, he is disturbed by gloomy forebodings.
Senior Kozeltsov, having arrived at the new commander, receives his former company. They used to be comrades, but now there is a wall of subordination between them. In the company, everyone is happy about the return of Kozeltsov, both soldiers and officers respect him.
Volodya meets artillery officers. Junker Vlang is especially friendly with him. Both of them are sent to a very dangerous battery on Malakhov Kurgan. All theoretical knowledge Volodya are rendered useless on the battery. Two soldiers are wounded, there is no one to repair the guns. Juncker is so frightened that he only thinks about staying alive. The soldiers of his team are hiding in Volodya's dugout.
In the morning, the guns of the battery are already in order. Volodya is very glad that he did not get scared, but on the contrary, he can perform his duties well, he loses his sense of danger.
The assault on the French takes the elder Kozeltsov by surprise. He jumps forward with his small saber, encouraging the soldiers. Having received mortal wound in the chest, he asks whether the French were driven out or not. Out of pity, they tell him that yes, they knocked him out. He dies thinking of his brother and rejoicing that he has fulfilled his duty.
Volodya commands easily and cheerfully his battery, but the French still go around and kill him. On the barrow is the French flag. Vlang, together with the battery, is transported by steamer to safe place. He bitterly regrets the death of Volodya.
The soldiers, leaving the city, say that the French will not stay long in it. Each retreating looks at the abandoned Sevastopol with pain and bitterness, accumulating hatred for the enemy in his soul.
Compositionally and emotionally - complex work"Sevastopol stories". Summary cannot convey all of it storylines and artistic value.
