GLORY AND HONOR TO ALL OUR HEROES…

David is one of our soldiers who took a direct and active part in the tragedy called war. Months after entering the conscription service, the command, assessing the young man’s physical and mental features, transferred him to special forces, where he still serves. There are only a few days left before his demobilization, but recent months have become the most significant and unforgettable period for the 20-year old. From September 29, he was actively involved in the war unleashed by the enemy, went through many hardships, lost precious friends… David is one of our soldiers, about whom we rightly say: they have won this war.

He was in the unit of National Hero of Armenia Col Vahagn Asatryan. He fought in the hottest points of Karvachar, Hadrut, Jabrail, Kubatlu, where the enemy had accumulated multiple quantitative advantage, carried out an incredible number of actions successfully, in the most difficult moments. They captured and cleared the area from the enemy, took groups out of surround, changed the situation in our favor.

David remembers his commander with great love, deep respect and appreciation.

“Col Asatryan was an exceptional person, honest, kind, knowledgeable, influential. He would often speak about Monte s an example of a military man, and he was similar in temperament and type. Col Asatryan had a giant dog. When he started playing with him, he was completely transformed into a child, he rejoiced like a child. His image was complemented by his exceptional modesty. Later, on the battlefield, we became more convinced of what an honest, caring person Col Asatryan was. It was impossible not to follow him, it was impossible not to trust him even in the most dangerous situations. He was a superior commander. He could give instructions and lead from a distance, but he was always with us, by our side, he personally led military operations.”

In the beginning they fought in Karvachar, then where the enemy concentrated more. The unit was sent as an auxiliary force to the sectors where they were most needed at that time. “The enemy was mainly conducting artillery fire at us,” says David, “then infantry was attacking.” It was then that we met with our unit and destroyed their manpower, stopped the advance of the army, and fought close battles. After Karvachar Hadrut, Jabrail, Kubatlu…

It was the beginning of October. We reached Jabrail at a time when the permanent location of the military unit was under the control of enemy forces. They were all over. They even shot at us from a small chapel. Thank God, with only a few wounds, we were able to destroy all the enemy’s manpower, clear the military unit, where more than a hundred soldiers were concentrated. Then we moved on. During this time we found 90 of our troops in the forest, who were under siege. After helping them, we got into a bigger siege. Hundreds and fifty meters away there were clashes with the enemy. It was a very hot battle… We had several wounded and one casualty, but we successfully got our 90 soldiers out of the siege and we successfully completed the operation.

In those days we would return to the base and after a short rest we would go back against the growing enemy forces. Our army had to fight with a ratio of 1 agaisnt 20 or 1 agianst 30 forces.

We got into sieges 4 or 5 times. We often thought of death as something natural. But the voice of the commander always united us, focused us, and due to his way and professionalism, we got out of the most unbelievable situations. One day was a particularly hard battle. We were already sure that this was our last battle, with our last resort. We had victims, forces were unequal. Rolling, we crawled to our dead friends, took bullets out of their pockets, refilled rifles and fired. It would sound strange, but we were looking at each other with a smile every time we were able to avoid the impending deadly shot…

Despite the disproportion of forces, we performed all the tasks perfectly. The key to our success was our commander, Vahagn Asatryan. His experience was needed everywhere. He was everywhere. On that fateful day, one of our groups was preparing for a strong battle in one of the directions. He was going to lead it. They had seen his car and targeted it by artillery and drones… His loss was a great blow to us, unspeakable pain… This was a serious loss for the Armed Forces.

We fought for a long time after his death. We carried out various military operations. The enemy initially used only the conscripts, but when that they exhausted this resource, they sent experienced mercenaries and special forces in our direction. Outwardly, they did not look like Azeris or Turks; they were blonds, with blue eyes, tall soldiers, members of some special group. Every one of them had a rank of major or higher. They did not have any documents, but it seemed that they were mercenaries, fighters of a special unit. In addition, from the poor items found in their possession, it could be concluded that they did not intend to return. Everyone had drugs and syringes. They did not feel pain until their leg was broken by the shot, they did not fall. There was a case when our large-caliber weapon shot one of them in the chest, so to speak, there was nothing left, but he was still trying to get up. I don’t know how much they would be able to aim under the influence of drugs, but they used them rather as a psychological means. Impressive, isn’t it? The severely wounded are moving forward.

I consider myself successful. I have survived at least six times of seemingly inevitable death during this war.

We were in Jabrayil. Our cars were parked in a line. After a short rest, we would move on. Suddenly, heavy artillery fire was fired in our direction. The enemy discovered us and fired directly at us. Some of us immediately got in the cars. But getting in the car was an inevitable death. They were immediately targeted and… We tried to find a good place to avoid artillery fire. We ran in the direction of a small Armenian cemetery nearby. I reached one of the gravestones and hid behind it. The next moment a shell  hit directly in front of the tombstone, only 5-10 centimeters away. The tombstone protected me from a powerful explosion. Amazing, only a small stone fell off and flew towards me. I had Nescafe packages in my pocket, which we used to keep awake. The shrapnel pierced my pants and got stuck in those packages.

The most difficult, however, was my last battle in the Kubatlu region, during which I received a minor injury. The operation was led by the battalion commander, Lt Col Karen Babayan, our other officer, whose name we remember with pride and pain… He was wounded in the leg in that battle, fought to the end and died with a weapon in his hand, heroically. We were moving in the direction of the enemy. The ratio of us and enemy personnel was 1 to 100. We approached them. The enemy artillery was working with all its might, but the bullets did not hit us, they exploded far enough away from us. I dug trenches three times in different parts of that field and fired from there. Slightly tilted, I held my weapon so that I could inflict a wound while protecting my face. The enemy sniper was aiming at my head, but it was hitting the barrel of my machine gun. It hit the same spot so hard that it broke. Suddenly, an artillery shell exploded thirty meters away from us. A shrapnel hit my helmet and my eyes darkened. I soon woke up to the sound of gunfire from our nearby sniper. When I started to see again, I noticed that about 200 meters away, two enemy soldiers were moving in our direction. I neutralized both of them immediately. The artillery started working again. I only felt that my hand began to get warmer and weaker. It was a wound. The bullet tore a piece of bone from my arm and cracked it. I could not shoot anymore, I decided to move in our direction. I crawled about a kilometer from the fire zone and came under sniper fire, shelling… I noticed a soldier from our other unit. He immediately approached and tried to take help me. As soon as he put me on his shoulder, I started hitting him hard on the leg. I knew that if he stood up, we would both be targeted. And just as he was about to hit me, he kneeled, a few sniper bullets flew over our heads. After crawling about 300 meters, we reached our troops. An Ural took us out of the battlefield. I was exhausted. I had different visions: one of my dead friends gathered around me, sometimes I saw my dead father. My father died three years ago. Both during my life and on the battlefield, I always felt in the most difficult moments that my father was with me, by my side. And at that moment, when I was bleeding unconscious, he was still by my side. I could feel him shaking me, shaking me to wake me up, he would not let me close my eyes… It was in those moments that I woke up and saw that I was being treated.

Indeed, this was a life-and-death war. I lost heroic friends, very close, wonderful boys who consciously sacrificed their lives to stop the enemy from advancing. We had many boys whom you would not notice under normal circumstances, you would not believe that they are capable of fighting with such courage. They became self-contained, thoughtful and suddenly became lions at the hottest moment of the fight. I lost two close friends who had fought on other fronts. One of them, Tigran, was a small guy. Comrades-in-arms say that during one of the operations in the Karvachar region, Tigran advanced after destroying a 12-member enemy detachment alone. He heard voices from afar, he thought that one of our soldiers needed help, and hurried in that direction. He was blown up by an enemy grenade.

My other friend, Gor, was wounded three times while fighting in another direction, but refused medical help. In that state he advanced again, destroying thirty enemies. Then, when no one from the detachment survived, he fought alone. Unfortunately, he lost both legs from the mine explosion. Before the help came, he bled to death.”

Glory and honor to all our fallen troops, officers and soldiers, volunteers and all those who dedicated their lives and health to the desired victory with unshakable faith, will and love.

By KNAR TADEVOSYAN