The flag is in your hands, which means the phrase. Sergey Panarin - The flag is in your hands

37 And Reuben said to his father, saying, Kill my two sons if I do not bring him to you; put him in my hands; I will return it to you. 38. He said: don't son will go mine is with you; because his brother died and he alone was left; if misfortune befalls him on the path you are on,

flag in hand

to whom! Jarg. they say. 1. Permission, call to do smth. Nikitina 1996, 226; Belyanin, Butenko, 165; Smirnov 2002, 227. 2. [and a drum around your neck] to whom! Also Iron. Good luck wishes (usually to a boastful person). Vakhitov 2003, 190; Maximov, 451.

Big dictionary of Russian sayings. - M: Olma Media Group. V. M. Mokienko, T. G. Nikitina. 2007 .

See what "Flag in hand" is in other dictionaries:

Adverb, number of synonyms: 2 forward (60) forward and with song (10) ASIS Synonym Dictionary. V.N. Trishin. 2013 ... Synonym dictionary

flag in hand- a drum in the ass, a stone on the neck (and a fair wind in the hunchbacked back) to whom irony. parting words (in the meaning "do not give a damn about him", "well, to hell with him", etc.) ... Dictionary of Russian Argo

White flag on a dark background. Jarg. they say Shuttle. iron. About a man who is very different from the rest. Maksimov, 420. Throw out / throw out the white flag. Razg. Admit yourself defeated, ask for mercy. NHS 70; Mokienko 2003, 132. [Red] flag ... ... Big dictionary of Russian sayings

Flag of the Minyar urban settlement Minyar Ashinsky district Chelyabinsk region Russia ... Wikipedia

Northern Ireland Great Britain ... Wikipedia

Flag of Neverkinsky municipal district Neverkinsky district Penza region Russia ... Wikipedia

Flag rural settlement"Neverkinsky village council" Neverkino village Neverkinsky district Penza region Russia ... Wikipedia

Flag of Kantemirovka urban settlement Kantemirovka Kantemirovka district Voronezh region Russia ... Wikipedia

Administrative center: Yanshikhovo Chelly Krasnoarmeysky district Chuvashia Russia ... Wikipedia

Administrative center: Alyokhovshchina Lodeynopilsky district Leningrad region Russia ... Wikipedia

Books

• The Indian Science of Hand Reading, Sen K. K. This is an excellent textbook on palmistry for beginners as well as for those who already have experience in this field. The textbook is based on the achievements of ancient Indian science, developed in more ...
• The Indian Science of Hand Reading (Hast Samudrika Shastra), by Sen K. This is an excellent textbook on palmistry for beginners as well as for those who already have experience in this field. The textbook is based on the achievements of ancient Indian science, developed in more ...

Sergey Panarin

The flag is in your hands!

Chapter 1

Guard, or "There, but not back"

In some subdivision, at some distance from Moscow, there is a world-famous secret object, whose exact coordinates and name should remain undisclosed. This is a solid missile system, kept in a combat-ready state by the forces of an ordinary regiment. This is where our mysterious and heroic story began.

When the whole country, in a single New Year's impulse, cuts tons of salads and drinks tanks of champagne, when fireworks explode the night sky, somewhere there are people who are not up to the holiday, not to the chimes and not to the fireworks. These are soldiers on duty. Where do they serve? According to the charter, they serve the Motherland. Therefore, there is no silence and holiday for them, but there is sheer anxiety and army everyday life for them.

On the evening of December 31, private first-year Kolya Lavochkin entered the night guard at Post Number One, and this meant that New Year he will meet not at the table and with a glass of sparkling wine, but near the regimental banner and with a machine gun in his hands. For an hour and a half, Kolya quietly lamented over his unfortunate fate. Managed to get on guard today!

In the regiment where Lavochkin served, Post Number One was not located in the vestibule as usual, but was moved to the Red Corner. Kolya liked the museum atmosphere that reigned in the Red Corner: the room was hung with red posters and stands telling about the history of the unit. And recently, the mentioned banner appeared here under a plexiglass cap, and, accordingly, the poor fellow guard.

Lavochkin felt like an exhibit of a stupid exhibition - just as fake as the rest of the filling of the Red Corner. The guards weren't even given bullets here!

Here was Kolya Lavochkin, as if dressed up: in full dress, and with a machine gun with an empty magazine.

Behind the wall, in the regimental commander's huge office, where officers traditionally gathered, it was noisy, musical and festive. Those who did not run away on a long layoff celebrated the New Year in the company of colleagues. Lavochkin involuntarily listened to the deep hubbub of the commanders and the piercing laughter of their wives and girlfriends.

“We are strangers at this celebration of life,” Kolya recalled. catchphrase and sighed heavily.

The regimental commander, or, more simply, "dad", a man of the old school, has long started a lot of strange customs. For example, he celebrated all the holidays on the job, that is, right at the headquarters. And he didn’t lock the regimental banner in a safe, like all normal commanders, but tortured the soldiers with guard duty at Post Number One.

Private Lavochkin understood that it is unlikely that anyone would want to check the guard on a festive evening, because the officer on duty, the favorite of "dad", was having fun in the same office.

It was warm in the Red Corner - they heated well. Kolya even sweated a little and took off his cap. He wanted to open the window, but a continuous stream of snow flakes rushed outside the night window. The lanky private Lavochkin stooped mournfully, adjusting the machine gun hanging on his shoulder. Formed sadism - in new year's eve put a man near a piece of red cloth embroidered with gold! Kolya Lavochkin took a deep breath again. He served for the seventh month, but still could not get rid of civil sanity, and this slowly undermined his spirit ...

– Spirit! – this is how the local old man Vitka Tuporylkin shouted at him on the first day of his regimental service. - You are a spirit, which means you will serve, and I will follow ... And look at me!

Later, Lavochkin realized that the narrow-minded Tuporylkin copied Ensign Dubov in everything - a gloomy uncle with the soul of a sadist. Encounter with it wonderful person ended for the rank and file with constant problems ... Kolya was no exception. For example, a week ago, right on the parade ground for no reason... Stop!

Kolya hurriedly drove away sad thoughts. Here you have a festive night, everything comes into your head ...

What is this? Steps!

Somehow pulling his cap on, the soldier stood at attention. Ensign Dubovs appeared on the threshold - really, remember the fool ...

The stocky short man looked sullenly at the private, stretched out to the line.

It's easy to say - "shorty"! Pavel Ivanovich Dubovov was a strong, seasoned peasant of forty-three with a round, pig-faced face. He bored Kolya with small eyes. Kolya thought to himself if this thick ensign had a neck.

“Ahem… Khyr…” Dubovykh finally croaked, and Lavochkin imperceptibly bit the tip of his tongue so as not to burst out laughing. - Look at my...

Having uttered a ritual phrase, the ensign turned around and disappeared into the corridor, apparently in search of a restroom. Pavel Ivanovich, or Palvanych-Bolvanych, as the soldiers and sometimes officers called him behind his back, was not drunk. More like a little sloppy. And grunting, probably, he inherited.

“Why do officers need this baboon at a holiday ?!” Kolya wondered. He did not know that Palvanych Dubovykh was a long-time colleague of "dad", and he had no equal in terms of supply. In a word, ensign.

Bolvanych's shuffling steps were lost in the merry noise.

Lavochkin took off his cap again.

If he hadn’t left the second year of the institute, he would now be sitting in his native Ryazan, in a hostel, having fun with friends ... Or here’s a study, a training part ... Six months of service in it, compared with the regiment, seemed like a paradise pastime. There are no grandfathers, the guys are all sincere ...

“Maybe that’s why they call recruits spirits, because they haven’t become stale yet, haven’t become angry, haven’t turned into Tuporylkins? ..” Kolya chuckled. He did not like to feel sorry for himself, but Lately somehow it worked out. According to all hazing canons, taking into account training, he was already the most natural "nightingale", and in the regiment everyone called with spirit and recommended to hang himself.

Behind the wall, blocking the general festive hubbub, “dad” boomed:

- So, put aside the chatter! Now the president will congratulate us on the box!

The hubbub was instantly quiet.

“Well, here ... New Year's in five minutes ...” Kolya sighed and instantly became angry with his nurses.

- Cheer up! he ordered himself aloud.

I had to perform. Lavochkin smiled silly and slung his machine gun over his other shoulder.

And then the guy felt something sharply pulled him back. At first he thought he in an incomprehensible way lost his balance but common sense said: it's not about juggling weapons.

Kolya gasped in surprise, waved his arms in a comical way and fell awkwardly on his ass. He closed his eyes, waiting for a hit on the concrete floor. But the landing was soft. Private Lavochkin seemed to have landed on a heap of rags.

Kolya opened his eyes and saw that the Red Corner had disappeared. There was a forest all around. The soldier saw huge trees, dense thickets of unknown shrubs and stunted green grass under his feet, and then sounds burst into his ears - hooting, chirping and twittering birds, crackling branches, creaking swaying trunks and whistling wind in the branches.

No snow, no darkness. Or rather, it was dusk. A sort of summer evening in a peaceful forest clearing.

“What the…” the private began, but immediately felt a burning prick above his thigh.

Kolya rose to his feet like a swift, slapping himself on the stung spot. turned around. It turned out that he was sitting on a huge anthill, for which he paid. The most surprising thing is that a regimental banner was stuck in the anthill. The plexiglass cap still protected the relic.

Lavochkin wanted to pinch himself to check, but changed his mind: the brave ant had already performed the necessary test. Kolya stupidly watched the black hard workers running along the red shaft and the transparent walls of the cap. And for sure, in their own way, in an ant's way, they scold. The boy's head was in turmoil. “Prank? Kolya asked himself. - Vigilance test? Alien abduction?.. Old-timer jokes?..»

Behind him, in the very thick of the bushes, there was a fractional clatter and crackling of breaking branches. Private Lavochkin turned around, raised his unloaded machine gun and shouted the most intelligent thing he could think of in the current situation:

- Stop! Who goes?

The clatter did not stop, the bushes quivered. A snout stuck out of the greenery: a natural boar, however, if you look closely, it is the spitting image of Ensign Dubovykh.

Kolya squealed and jumped onto the anthill. When Lavochkin was little, his grandfather, a hunter, told me what a wild billhook was ... Meanwhile, the snout wrinkled, grunted and disappeared into the thickets. The clatter quickly subsided.

“It would be better if it was an ensign ...” Kolya whispered, climbing down from the anthill.

Somehow my hands were trembling.

The private looked around for his cap. She was nowhere.

I tried to come to my senses, to cope with the nerves.

It turned out to be a C with a minus - falsetto does not raise morale.

The soldier cleared his throat.

“So,” he tried more confidently, “the banner is here, the weapon is here, I am here too.” So the post has been moved here. I have to watch until someone relieves me. Maybe…

The thought is stupid, but without fish ...

A long-drawn-out howl reached the private's ears. Kolya already sat down, again grabbing his machine gun. Cautiously looking around, the sentry looked up at the sky. Dark clouds, tinted crimson by the setting sun, swirled ominously over the forest, prophesying night rain.