Рассказ о спрятанном оружии Константин Симонов Им пятый...

The Story of the Hidden Weapon Konstantin Simonov


They were given food for the fifth day

Salted cod.

Prison chef carved

They are the best pieces -

For dinner, breakfast and lunch

By a fat piece

Choice, pink, through and through

Salted cod.

The boss swore that a hundredfold

The satiest of all his soldiers

Two red prisoners

They eat in his prison.

And if they need water,

Then this is whim and nonsense:

Let it rain through the window

Opening their mouths, they look.


They were lying on the floor

Cold and empty.

Two singles gave them

Two for the whole prison

So that they are alone

Remembered that

Known only to the two of them

And no one else ...

And to help them remember

I had to trample them and kick them,

They walked on their backs

Batons and belts

The memory returned to them, but

They didn’t remember one thing:

Where are the weapons hidden -

They did not remember.


Once the eldest of them

In the evening he took a convoy.

He walked through the yard and with a greedy mouth

I tried to swallow the rain.

But a fine rain flew by

Spinning overhead

And the parched mouth could not

Not a bit to catch.

He was pushed into the office.

- Well, did you remember it or not? -

The boss asked him.

And in the middle of the table,

Calling him to say yes,

There was fresh water

Behind the ice wall

Sweaty glass.


Licking dry lips

He said: - Yes,

I remembered. Somewhere underground

We buried it,

I just don't remember one thing: where? -

And damn water

Laughed at him from the table

The head of the prison.

The chief, having stopped the interrogation,

He brought him a glass of water

Close to dry lips

And ... splashed out the window!

- Forgot? But after five minutes

Another will be brought here.

Not you, so your friend

Will remember anyway!


The chief left. Prisoner

I heard the creak of the door

And the other one burst into the door,

Ringing shackles.

Leaning against the wall with a groan

Swollen back

He whispered: - I cannot ...

They beat me ...

I'll give up soon and then

My tongue will tell "yes" by itself ...

I know: in a gray house,

In the basement, in the back ...

- Shut up! - Still keep quiet ... for now ... -

And the doors creaked slightly

And the chief entered them:

- Well, who will tell me?


And the senior prisoner whispered

With a grin of a curve:

- To hell with him, with a weapon! Does not matter

Things are coming to an end.

I'll tell you everything, but let it be

Your convoy first

The one, the other, will take away:

It will be superfluous here. -

Soldiers ripping off the ground

The one, the other, was carried away,

Elbows silently poking

Into his screaming mouth.

He did not understand anything, but

Shouted and torn; does not matter

He knew there would be again

Beat in the ribs and in the stomach.


- Shouts! - noticed the prisoner

And, barely turning pale,

For everything he gives out, he asked

Himself three awards:

A glass of water now - once,

Freedom tomorrow - two,

And make it so that the other

I was silent about it - three.

The chief laughed: - We

We will not let him out of prison.

And, word caballero,

That tomorrow by two o'clock ...

- No, I want not at two, not at one -

Let him shut up now!

I don't take a word

I have to see for myself.


Chief with a firm hand

Pushed the phone:

- Hello! Now number seven

Send to punishment cell, but

It is very possible that to flee

He will try ...

Then shoot so that I

Seen through the window ... -

He hung up the phone with a blunder: - Well?

And the prisoner wandered over to the window

And a thick lattice

Shook one hand.

The prison yard is bare and empty

A wretched bush sticks out

And across the yard dejectedly

The other one is weaving.


The convoy was five paces behind.

Silence fell.

The rifles have already risen

And he wanders through the yard ...

A volley rang out. And the prisoner

Drew back from the window:

- Tell you about the weapon,

Isn't it, senor?

We hid it long ago.

We two knew where it was.

A friend could give

Under torture to the executioner.

To him who could tell

I managed to tie the tongue.

He died and won't tell.

I am alive and I am silent!