In the rush of everyday worries, in the unsettled state of life, we all somehow do not have time to remember the eternal, the main thing, to seriously think about the innermost, about what makes the meaning of existence of a person, a citizen, a worthy son of the Fatherland, who does not exchange the highest moral principles for momentary well-being and the pragmatics of a well-fed life. But the time of "H" comes, and we stop, look around, look away in embarrassment, realizing that the day was not lived like this, the word was not said correctly, the right step was not taken. It is as if we are repenting before the supreme judge. And we become at this moment better, more worthy, as if accumulating strength for future correct steps and accurate words. This year, such a time "H" for us was a great date: the 200th anniversary of the birth of Alexander Pushkin.

As it turns out, it was important to pick up a volume of his poems, prose or letters, a book of memoirs of the great poet's contemporaries or a writer's work about his life and read the truly immortal lines that are now almost two hundred years old, but they live... And not only do they live, but even today, in 1999, they speak very accurately about our life, about people, about morals, about vices and virtues, about the high and low, about glory and dishonor... Written with a quill pen, they are just as wise and lyrical in the age of computers, just as sublime and mischievous, honest and heartfelt. Such a poet is the true glory and pride of the Fatherland. We can only cherish this glory, which is many times greater than the glory of poetry alone. In us, his distant descendants, flows the ever-living thought of Pushkin. It cannot run out in our children, grandchildren, or great-grandchildren... For his word helps us to become better, purer, and wiser.

..In 1817, in the poem "Comrades", written shortly before the end of the lyceum, just before, as we would now say, distribution, Pushkin wrote:;

Scribes and lancers are my equals,

Equal laws, shakos,

I don't want to be a captain

And I don't crawl into the assessor...

I must say that out of twenty-nine lyceum students of the first graduation, seven received the first officer rank of ensign in the Guard (IX class "Table of Ranks"), five-the same rank, but not in the guard, but in the army (X class. A little later, another lyceum student will become a navy officer). Pushkin, as you know, in accordance with his X class, became known as the "collegiate secretary". About his possible future career, he said as he said:"...I don't want to be a captain, and I don't want to be an assessor."

Twenty-five years ago, when I was studying Russian literature at the Lviv Higher Military-Political School, I was somewhat offended to read such lines from my favorite poet: I saw in them a certain disregard for military people. Later, when the acquaintance with Pushkin finally went beyond the "course", it became clear: there could not have been any neglect. Alexander Pushkin, who experienced the events of the Patriotic War of 1812 with a youthful anxiety and enthusiasm, at one time passionately dreamed of a military career, of exploits in the name of Russia. He even expressed a wish to join the Hussar regiment. But the father, Sergey Lvovich, agreed only to the army unit, since he allegedly skimped on guards uniforms. In this case, Alexander did not care. In addition, even in those younger years, he already realized the meaning of his life's purpose, although being "just a poet" was considered almost shameful at that time, since such a position in the "Report Card", alas, did not exist.

In 1819, in the poem "Orlov" (General Alexey Fyodorovich Orlov - during the poet's southern exile, the division commander who repeatedly convinced Pushkin to enter military service), Alexander Sergeevich wrote:

O you who combined

With an ardent, frank soul

(Although a Russian general)

Courtesy, enlightened mind...

Orlov, you're right: I forget

Your Hussar dreams

And with Solomon I exclaim:

Uniform and saber-fuss!..

It sounds insulting for a military man, doesn't it? But we read on. Humbling non-peaceful desires, Without doliman, without whiskers,

I will hide myself with secret freedom,

With tsevnitsa, nega and nature

Under the shadow of my grandfather's forests;

Above the lake, in a quiet hut,

Or in the grass of dense meadows,

Or the hill on the golden slope

Wearing a Bokhara hat and dressing gown

I will sing to my gods,

And I'll be waiting. -

When will it rise

From the bed of rest the god of swords

And swearing a loud challenge will break out,

Then I'll leave the world of fields;

Pet of the fiery Bellona,

The throne has a loyal citizen!

Orlov, I will stand under the banner

Your warlike squads;

In tents, in the midst of sich, in the midst of fires,

With a sword and a lyre.

I will cut before you

And sing the glory of your blows.

However, our great poet has shown courage, bravery, and often reckless courage all his life. And not only in verse, not only defending the honor of his name. His contemporaries often spoke about his bravery, disregard for death, and even the intoxication of danger. We will not speculate, we will leave the floor to them and Alexander Sergeevich himself. And we will talk only about one short period of his trip to Arzrum.

"Pushkin is going to Paskevich's army to learn all the horrors of war, to serve as a volunteer, and maybe sing all this."

From a letter from L. Y. Bulgakov to his brother

"Anyone who has ridden a horse knows that this is not an easy test for an enthusiastic rider. Pushkin, a civilian, ... had to have exceptional endurance (let's recall the famous iron cane of Alexander Sergeevich, with which he did not part for a long time, developing the firmness of his hands. - Author's note)".

From the monograph of a former career cavalryman

N. A. Raevsky

(Moving along the Tiflis - Kotanli route, changing horses at Cossack posts, Pushkin traveled 72 versts on the first day, 77 versts on the second, 94 versts on the third, and 46 versts on the fourth. Plus 36 versts in the marching order of the building. The result is 325 versts, or about 350 km in four days! - Author's note)

"...The Turks engaged in a skirmish at our frontline pickets. I went with Semichev to see a new picture for me. We met a wounded Cossack: he was sitting, staggering on the saddle, pale and bloody. ... " Are there many Turks?" Semichev asked. "Like a pig, Your Honor..."

After passing through the gorge, we suddenly saw on the slope of the opposite mountain up to 200 Cossacks lined up in lava and above them about 500 Turks "?

A. S. Pushkin "Journey to Arzrum"

"The skirmish on June 14, 1829, is remarkable because our glorious poet Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin participated in it... When... the enemy suddenly attacked our front line, poet... he immediately jumped out of the headquarters, mounted his horse, and instantly found himself at the outposts. The experienced Major Semichev, sent by General Raevsky after the poet, barely overtook him and forcibly led him out of the advanced line of Cossacks at the moment when Pushkin, seizing a pike after one of the dead Cossacks, rushed against the enemy's horsemen. ...Our Don residents were extremely surprised to see a strange hero in a round hat and a burka standing before them."

N. I. Ushakov History of military operations in Asian Turkey in 1828-1829

"We had just arrived when suddenly the sky lit up like a meteor, and we heard a muffled explosion. The saklya, which we had left behind for a quarter of an hour, was blown up into the air: it contained a supply of powder. Scattered stones crushed several Cossacks."

A. S. Pushkin "Journey to Arzrum"

"He also wore a smart black frock coat, with a shiny top hat on his head; and therefore the soldiers, not knowing who he was, and seeing him constantly at the Nizhny Novgorod Dragoon regiment, which Raevsky commanded, took him for a regimental priest and called him the dragoon priest. He was extremely kind and cordial ."

From the Memoirs of M. V. Yuzefovich

"Did he know many officers before? with the rest of the officers, I got to know them vividly, met and received each of them as a familiar friend. For the same reason, the officers loved him for his quick wit, sharp words, gaiety and such a nice treatment of everyone."

From the story of the Caucasian veteran of the esaul P. G. Khanzhonkov

Here are such courageous touches to the portrait of the poet. It remains to say that a strong and sincere friendship connected Alexander Sergeevich with many, many people whose names are forever inscribed in our military history. He was no stranger to the army, since his freedom-loving work first of all found a response not in the light that shunned the disgraced and seditious poet, but among the advanced, as they used to say, part of the officer corps. And the army in the person of those officers who went to the Senate Square, and then was exiled to Siberia, sent as a private under the Caucasian bullets, was not alien to him. Let us also remember Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin. We need him, too. Let's remember and remove from the shelf a volume with a great Russian name...

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