German anthem - Deutchland uber alles. German anthem - Deutchland uber alles Deutsche uber alles translation

Kapitel 57. Same day, early morning. Moscow, Trubnikovsky lane, 30.

Friedrich stumbled into the apartment at point C, breathing heavily. He deliberately ran up to his seventh floor “in afterburner” to cheer himself up - because even in the car he felt that the sleepless night was still beginning to take its toll, and this was completely inappropriate for him now. “Sleep in your grave,” as non-commissioned officers like to say in training. However, they didn’t say that at the flight school. During ground training, the lack of sleep was severe, that’s for sure, but before flights the mandatory eight hours of sleep are strictly prescribed by the regulations, and God forbid the cadet is caught doing something else during this time - even if it is studying educational literature. Then, however, few people objected to the extra opportunity to sleep... Friedrich walked around the office several times, calming his breathing, then, taking the notepad with him, he headed to the kitchen to make himself some strong coffee.

The showdown with the Russians, although it did not give him pleasure, took less time than he had feared. The first to arrive on the scene were the creepos, who did not miss the opportunity to demonstrate their own importance and immediately started the conversation in a raised tone, even threatening to search and detain Vlasov until clarification. (Friedrich, who, of course, had already shown them his ID, responded with a phlegmatic shrug - “try it, if you’ve dreamed of regulating traffic on the Khabarovsk-Magadan highway all your life”; the police headquarters captain mentioned the traditional “not forty-three,” but the tone was still but he slowed down a bit.) But the criminalists were quickly wiped out by the guys from the Children's Hospital who arrived next; these, on the contrary, were extremely polite and correct. Frederick, naturally, did not know what group they represented, and how aware they were of the affairs going on at the top. One way or another, the version he presented to them was primitive, but outwardly quite smooth. Since the entire Israeli capture group was killed - with the exception of those two, who, as Schramm managed to report, managed to escape - the most convenient thing was to blame everything on her. Without revealing, of course, their own knowledge that they were Israelis. Representatives of the Department, they say, were only monitoring a suspicious apartment when unknown persons broke into it, and then tried to trace the car of these unknown persons.

Vlasov spoke openly about the circumstances of the death of the false ambulance. If the DGB officers knew that in fact the role of the Deutsches was not limited to passive observation of the house, then it was extremely unprofitable for them to advertise this knowledge, because this meant that they too were watching the house, but did not take any legal measures - but suspicions about the true departmental the belongings of the alleged Dopov “bitch” became indecently obvious. (Friedrich, by the way, had no doubt that the bodies of those sitting in the “bitch” would be declared disfigured to the point of complete impossibility of identification - except by DNA analysis, but what department admits that the corresponding DNA samples are in the database of its own employees...) The officers of the Department must have taken these considerations into account and preferred to believe Vlasov’s version - or perhaps they really did not even have an indirect connection to the conspiracy. They did not detain him any longer, only lightly chiding him in a friendly manner at the end that the Deutsch did not inform the State Security Service immediately, “as soon as the events on Rommel Street began to take an uncontrollable turn,” and promising, in turn, to keep their German colleagues informed about the investigation “of this incident." Naturally, they took Zain’s corpse, as well as the bodies of the Mossad men, with them.

On the way home, Friedrich, in order not to waste time, rang Lemke, who was blissfully unaware of the latest events, from his bed. He still felt guilty for the failure of the mission on Halle and was really eager to demonstrate his diligence and usefulness. Vlasov ordered him to compile and email a certificate for Moscow banks with the word “first” in their names. Now was the time to get acquainted with the results of his work. Friedrich connected the noteblock to the network and turned on the power. While the system was loading, he took care of the boiling coffee and returned to the table, already carefully carrying a cup of scalding black drink. Meanwhile, the notification block rang, confirming receipt of the letter.

In the short list sent by Lemke, the First Industrial Bank actually appeared. But there was also the First Professional. Both provided the storage service in a personal safe deposit box. The drive, as Rechner helpfully confirmed, was closer to Promyshlenny. However, Friedrich was not too lazy to study all the information sent and noticed that the Industrial Bank was created in the early seventies, while the Professional Bank was created in 1946. Which, by the way, really testified to the professionalism of its managers - from banks that, like mushrooms after rain, arose in Russia, freshly liberated from the Bolsheviks, few managed to survive the series of crises of the forties and fifties... Thus, if Zain was really hunting for Ehrenburg’s papers and if this cell is related to them, then, most likely, it is located in the First Professional. Ehrenburg fled Russia no later than 1960. Although, of course, at first the papers, or whatever was in the safe deposit box, could have been stored elsewhere... But Friedrich decided to start with the Professional Bank. He looked again at the address: Krasnova Street, 18.

Why does this address seem familiar to him? Well, of course - on Krasnov Street he witnessed the death of the prince. Only not opposite house 18, but, it seems, slightly before reaching it... Stop. Was it not this very bank that Zu Sein-Wittgenstein was heading to?

Friedrich experienced the familiar sensation of pieces of a mosaic falling into place.

The picture turned out to be as follows. The prince's book existed in two copies. He kept the original in a bank safe in Moscow, and gave the copy to Frau Riefenstahl for safekeeping - without saying that it was only a copy, in order, presumably, to flatter the old woman’s vanity. A copy in Burg was stolen by Gelman. On February 4, Frau discovered the loss and, after some unsuccessful research, reported this to the prince the next day. He, in excited feelings, rushed to check if the Moscow copy was in place, but his heart could not stand it when literally a few meters remained to the goal... Why did you need to put on a uniform with orders for a private visit to the bank, to your safe deposit box? Yes, it’s very simple! The prince was in a hurry, and besides, he knew what was going on on Moscow roads in the center at that time of day. Therefore, he assumed that he might break the rules, and at the same time did not want unnecessary delays with the additional supplement. Volks working in the traffic police are incorruptible and deaf to the pleas of violators, but they usually have deep respect for heroic war veterans, bordering on reverence - by the way, and Sergeant Major Kormer, as Friedrich remembered, was no exception. Of course, in the event of a serious violation, this would still not prevent the traffic inspector from fulfilling his duty. But in the event of some small thing, most likely, the matter would be limited to a remark like “please be more careful.” The prince calculated this correctly, and perhaps he has already used it more than once...

But if the bank is the same, is it possible that something related to Ehrenburg’s papers was kept in the prince’s safe deposit box? Or that Zain was still hunting for memoirs? This will become clear soon, but actually it’s unlikely. Most likely, this is just a coincidence, although not entirely accidental. It’s just that the services of the same bank, known for its reliability, were resorted to at different times by both the Jewish Bolshevik-Germanophobe and the Deutsch Nazi-Judophobe...

In any case, both banks didn't open until nine, so Friedrich still had almost five hours left for... for what? The first step, of course, was to write and send a report on the actual failure of Operation Pheasant, which Vlasov immediately began. He turned some events exactly the opposite, writing that information about Zain’s lair was allegedly unofficially received by him from the Israeli side, as a continuation of the agreements reached during previous contacts authorized by Mueller; at the same time, a joint operation by the Israelis was not proposed (and, in fact, the official approval of such an operation under a single command would require too much bureaucratic red tape, at least on the imperial side); As a result, the parties each acted for themselves, which, coupled with the Israelis’ underestimation of the danger of Zain being liquidated by the conspirators after the capture, was the main reason for the failure. In general, despite the distortion of the initial premises, the conclusion was correct... But at first Vlasov wrote the whole truth about the letter from an American nursing home and his plans to visit the bank. But before sending the letter, I thought about it and erased the last paragraph. No, first he himself will find out what is in this cell. And, by the way, given the existence of a conspiracy, the participants of which are still at large and in their posts, Mueller would approve of such caution. Even considering that it implies distrust of Mueller himself.

However, Friedrich still added this information to the information in the personal section that was scheduled for automatic distribution if he did not cancel it before 13:05. Don't repeat Weber's mistakes. Do not repeat.

And by the way, about Weber. Here's a good thing to do for the next few hours (unless, of course, another order comes from Muller) - rack your brains over access to his plattendata. Friedrich took the long-suffering circuit board out of his pocket and connected it via an adapter as an external device to his noteblock. “Di Fenster” slightly blinked the hourglass, but still identified the second board correctly - which means, as Friedrich had hoped, the deceased used the same protection program that was installed by default on Vlasov’s rechner, and on other service notification blocks of the Department. Weber had no reason to change it - the protection was very reliable and, as imperial cryptanalysts unanimously asserted, it could not be opened in real time without knowing the password.

“Nordenkommander” showed the usual directory tree - the main password to the board was disabled by Eberling, who, obviously, was reluctant to enter the “tooth-crushing” combination every time. Friedrich looked at the names of the catalogs and plattendats in the main one. Most were some kind of unintelligible abbreviations - however, for Weber himself there was probably a clear system in all this. And are they really that obscure? As a military man and a pilot, Friedrich very often - more often even than those who came to the RSHA without having army experience behind them - had to deal with abbreviations, so he developed the skill of deciphering them almost immediately. Here, for example, is the MG.ZSW catalog. Memory immediately helpfully expanded the MG to Maschinengewehr, but no, it’s unlikely that the machine gun’s characteristics are in this catalogue. ZSW - this may well be zu Sayn-Wittgenstein... then MG - Murat Gelman? Friedrich poked his pad as he went into the catalogue. All plattendats in it, judging by the bld extension, were graphic images; instead of names they had numbers - curiously, not in a row. But when I tried to view the first of them, the system required a password. It didn't take Friedrich long to make sure that the rest of the dates in this catalog were also encrypted. And passwords, presumably, are different in all cases. But this, according to Eberling, is not the only catalog closed in this way. There is no doubt that even a person with Weber's excellent memory could not store such a bunch of passwords in his mind... as well as inconvenient - and unsafe! - store them in the form of a long list in a separate date or on a piece of paper... Of course, this date with passwords can also be closed, with just one password, which is quite possible to remember - apparently, Eberling assumed something similar... but it was a ponderous, ugly, “frontal” decision. Weber, with his brilliant mathematical abilities, would have rejected such an option, if only for aesthetic reasons...

The mail program beeped. Yep, the answer is from Mueller. The boss, as usual in correspondence, is laconic: “Act according to the situation. If you find out anything about Heinz, report immediately. The playpen is neutralized. L. is flying." It's clear. This means that everything was confirmed with the bomb in the microphone, and Lambert will fly to Moscow as planned. Well, why shouldn’t he actually come? The main number of his program was disrupted, but this is not a reason to cancel the visit. And, in fact, what has changed compared to his plan? All the same, he will be able to give his speech as the victim of an unsuccessful assassination attempt, only one that did not take place, but was prevented. Did they tell him now that they were going to kill him for real (which is obvious from the power of the charge in the microphone)? They probably reported it. Did he believe it? If he’s not a fool (and Klaus Lambert didn’t give the impression of a fool), he believed it. But now he also knows that the bomb has been defused and the organizer and perpetrator of the terrorist attack is dead, so there is nothing to be afraid of. Of course, there are still unarrested conspirators, and in particular those who sent the “bitch” with the Faustpatron - but they will not be able, and will not want, to eliminate Lambert the way they eliminated Zain. Not only because now Lambert will be protected much better - Bobkov himself is vitally interested in this, and he is not the only one - and no outside car, not even a police car, will be allowed within a kilometer of him; but first of all because now that the case can no longer be pinned on Zain, with any assassination attempt, the ears of its organizers will stick out too clearly. All their concern now is only about covering their tracks.

And by the way, it’s time to take care of making this task more difficult for them.

So far, everything Eberling said has been confirmed. And the operatives from Schramm’s group worked honestly - it’s not their fault that they failed to complete the task. This means that, most likely, Eberling truthfully named the names of the lower-level conspirators - without incriminating the innocent and without concealing the guilty. Yes, it seems that Heinz honestly fulfilled his part of the deal... but even for the sake of his word, Friedrich could not continue to risk leaving the conspirators free.

He clicked “Reply” and typed out the following report to Mueller: “According to intelligence reports, they may be involved in the conspiracy...” Taking advantage of the fact that the boss himself ordered him to “act according to the situation,” he ended the report with the words: “I consider it advisable within the next hours not to arrest them, but to establish surveillance over them in order to establish their contacts. Observers should be aware of possible attempts to eliminate objects." It was all he could do to delay the hunt for Eberling - and at the same time it was indeed a reasonable enough proposal. Perhaps less reasonable than immediately seizing and interrogating suspects, and perhaps more - it’s difficult to say in advance.

The answer fell into the box literally a minute later: “I am taking this under personal control. Stay in touch. All news will be reported immediately."

So, thought Friedrich. The failure on Rommel's street begins to take its toll - the boss actually removes him from an active role in the operation. Muller got what he wanted - strings to pull, and further intends to unravel the tangle himself...

Or is it not at all a matter of Zaina being missed - the boss is simply guided by the same considerations that forced Vlasov to personally go hunting instead of entrusting everything to Shramm? One way or another, no matter what consequences it may have in the future, now this release from liability is very useful. You can return to solving the secret of passwords.

Where did he stop when he was distracted by the letter from Mueller? There was some important thought... Weber... Weber and aesthetics... a frontal solution...

Passwords are subject to some kind of algorithm, that's for sure. That is why Weber replied that he did not know them. He really doesn't knew- he calculated them anew each time. Theoretically, this is considered bad form - passwords should not be calculated, they should be as meaningless as possible, otherwise there is a risk that the enemy will be able to figure them out - but there are many possible algorithms, try to guess the right one... At the same time, the rule should be quite simple - it’s unlikely Whether Weber launched a special program whenever he needed to open a particular date. Without hope of success, Friedrich tried the most trivial thing - to substitute the name of the date itself as a password in forward or reverse order. Naturally, to no avail. Maybe each letter or number of the name should be replaced with the next one... or the previous one... or alternated... no, it’s useless to guess, there are infinitely many such options.

But Weber knew the right one. Why, being under guard and not having the will to resist, did he answer “I can’t” to a direct demand for access to the plattendats? Apparently, the rule for constructing passwords is not so simple. And it requires mental effort, which the primed person is incapable of. Everything fits together very well, but still does not bring us closer to the solution...

Friedrich leaned back in his chair, his gaze slid over the cup of unfinished coffee on the table - he no longer remembered when he put it aside. The liquid had time to cool, and he finished it in large sips without any pleasure. Absentmindedly, I thought that the cup could have been placed directly on the Weber circuit board - it became quite noticeably heated during operation.

Stop! Weber board!

Frederick realized that he had not fulfilled one of the first commandments, which reads: “if you want to unravel the plan of another, look at the situation through his eyes.” He did not reboot from the Weber board and still looks at its data with his own eyes, through the prism of his own system settings. How did it all look on Weber's rechner?

Friedrich went into the system settings, specified the second board as bootable and restarted the notification block. Well, this time there is no boring loading of “Dee Fenster”. For the sake of compatibility, the American system was on Weber’s board, but by default he did not use it. Several quickly displayed messages on the screen - and there it was, native PBS 7.0, or rather, its text core. As a technical specialist of the old school, Weber deeply despised graphical shells. Plat quietly grunted one last time, indicating the end of the download, and the blackness of the “naked” PBS was replaced by the blue panels of the Nordenkommander.

But they had a different appearance than Vlasov’s. Instead of two columns with the names of plattendats, there are three, in the first of which the name, in the second - the size of the plattendat and in the third - the date of its last change. The scroll bar conveniently connected the name and the two numbers associated with it...

Here. It just catches the eye and is a really neat solution. A name and two numbers - a date can easily be represented as a six-digit number. Two... terms? No, it would be too simple for a person with Weber's abilities... Friedrich finally fully remembered the thought interrupted by the message from Müller. Weber's brilliant mathematical abilities - including the ability to easily perform any arithmetic operations in his head. Of the four operations of arithetics, the longest result - and therefore the most difficult to guess password - is multiplication. For an ordinary person, mentally multiplying two six-digit numbers is impossible, but for Weber it was quite trivial. But, of course, for a normal Weber, and not for a fooled strick...

Friedrich did not have the arithmetic talents of his late colleague, so he had to first download the graphical shell, and then launch the calculating program from his board. For the very first picture in the MG.ZSW catalog, he multiplied the size by the date, entered the resulting ten-digit number as a password... and again received a blow.

Here you go. Why did he actually decide that the numbers just needed to be multiplied? Maybe there is some kind of formula, the coefficients of which only Weber knew...

Then Friedrich remembered that the main password for this board was “a tooth-breaking combination of letters and numbers.” And the theory of information security recommends mixing both when creating passwords. But where can letters come from as a result of operations on numbers? Very simply - from the hexadecimal number system adopted by programmers! Frederick knew that numbers greater than nine are designated there by letters of the Latin alphabet. He converted the previous result into hexadecimal code - fortunately, the counting program allowed him to do this with one click of a button - and copied the resulting line into the password window.

This time, the viewer swallowed the plattendat without objection, and a second later, on the screen in front of Vlasov was the first page of the scanned manuscript.

Apparently, these were the parts of the book that were offered to publishers for testing. Most likely, Vlasov decided, it contained a handful of garbage and some goodies to whet the appetite. Gelman would not lay all his cards on the table: he needed, firstly, to confirm the authenticity of the manuscript, and, secondly, to “present”, in his own words, the content - so that a potential buyer would take the bait.

Friedrich sat down more comfortably and began to watch.

The first plattendat contained a photograph of a handwritten page. On it, in calligraphic handwriting with strokes and curls, was written: “Memories and Reflections.” Friedrich thought that the title was very characteristic: he had once loved memoir literature and since then had well remembered that such modest titles usually conceal bubbling abysses of wounded pride.

Having quickly looked through several sheets in a row (the powerful Tosibov board creaked with each reference: the pages of the manuscript were scanned with good resolution), Vlasov was convinced that this was a white paper: the sheets were written in an even, neat handwriting without erases or corrections, and the text was provided with headings and subheadings.

He returned to the beginning and quickly scanned the text.

The second plattendat contained three sheets - something like an introduction, entitled “Address to the Readers.” It started like this:

“I am writing this book not for my contemporaries and not even for posterity, for both of them, although for different reasons, are equally not interested in the truth. The first are preoccupied with their plans, momentary or global, for which the truth is both an obvious obstacle and a convenient victim. As for the descendants, they are either unacceptably partial or shamefully indifferent to the actions of their fathers, and partiality and indifference are not at all mutually exclusive...”

Frederick thought that the long reclusion had spoiled not only the character of the great pilot, but also his style. From Vlasov’s point of view, the dry and precise paragraphs of “Air Combat Tactics” were clearly superior to “Memoirs” even from a purely literary point of view. Alas, it seems that during his protracted leisure time the prince overdid it in reading intellectual literature - and, of course, from this reading he took away the cult of the long phrase and the habit of philosophizing over trifles.

“... However, despite the numerous examples of spiritual decay surrounding me, I still flatter myself with the hope that the world is not yet so corrupt as to completely stop giving birth to a small tribe of free spirits, who are interested not only in the rustle of banners or dirty and bloody stains on them, but the truth in itself. It is to these rare, outstanding minds that I dedicate my book. In it they will find a few grains of the truth that they will search in vain in other works written by people with a more flexible conscience...”

Vlasov caught himself suddenly flaring up hostility towards the deceased. The old man understood perfectly well who was interested in publishing his revelations and what kind of audience would read them. It seems that in addition to the spoiled style, the author of “Tactics” also acquired a taste for hypocrisy... Frederick closed the plattendat with disgust and took up the next one, where “Preliminary Information” began.

“I, Heinrich Alexander Ludwig Peter zu Sein-Wittgenstein, was born on August 14, 1916 in Copenhagen. At present, I remain the only representative of our branch of the family name. Both of my siblings died in the great war: the younger, Alexander - as befits a warrior, in battle, the eldest, Ludwig - under other, no less tragic circumstances, which I will talk about elsewhere.

Since ancient times, our family has been famous for its traditions, the most important of which is the close connection of our men with military service. You could even say that war is our traditional family activity.

However, my family and its traditions deserve more than a few dry words, and therefore I will interrupt my story that has not yet begun with an excursion into the history of my family, which history is closely intertwined with the history of Germany and Europe as a whole.

So: the first, not entirely reliable, mentions of our family go back to the tenth century...”

Vlasov sighed heavily: it became clear that the vain old man could not help but list all his ancestors and their glorious deeds. And so it turned out: Heinrich zu Sein-Wittgenstein devoted seven pages to a “small excursion”. A variety of names flashed in the stream of words, starting with Frederick of Brandenburg and Queen Helga, who somehow took part in the fate of the family, and ending with the offspring of marriages with Russian aristocrats and even with the Georgian princess Paraskeva Dadiani, with references to everyone neatly written out in footnotes kind of sources - from the Gotha Almanac to the standard textbook of Deutsch history. Vlasov didn’t bother to read it. Only a couple of Russian names caught my eye.

Just as quickly, he looked through excerpts from his childhood and youth memories, which began with a long discussion about the position of the middle son in the family and the problems associated with it. Judging by the numbering, all this dregs in the original took about forty pages. Frederick involuntarily felt sorry for the Atlantic fried lovers who would have to wade through these jungles. However, he reminded himself, skunks do not hesitate to publish excerpts and fragments, and the prince - even if he were alive - could not prevent the fact that everything superfluous would be mercilessly thrown out of his work, leaving only what is interesting to readers and discredits Reich... .

He looked at a few more dates. There were memories of my combat youth, starting with the subchapter “My First Flight,” which were somewhat more interesting. When it came to airplanes, Zain-Wittgenstein wrote vividly, enthusiastically and sincerely. He treated people with cold indifference, dividing them into superiors, subordinates, rivals and enemies. The others didn't exist for him.

However, throughout the first chapters of the text, the author stubbornly avoided any talk about politics. It was completely unclear how he felt about the events of 1933, Nazisification, and other realities of that time. Vlasov, regretting the inability to run a text search, scoured the pages with a professional eye, looking for keywords - “Hitler”, “party”, “national socialism” and so on. These words came across, but rarely and in a completely neutral context.

Here and there, however, mysterious hints slipped through. For example, in the twentieth date - it contained pages one hundred and twenty-five to one hundred and thirty - Friedrich found the following passage: “In the unit there were many politically engaged officers and even soldiers reading newspapers and listening to Hitler’s speeches. My contempt for these sources of so-called information probably seemed to them an aristocratic whim. Part of it was this: I was not interested in the topic of the day. I knew the general direction of movement much better than other leaders, whose job was to carry out plans drawn up in completely different areas...” Elsewhere, Vlasov caught his eye: “The general could not even imagine how our situation very soon. I could not reveal to him the sources of my confidence, so our dialogue resembled a conversation between a blind man and a mute - being sighted, I was forced to keep my mouth shut and listen to the self-confident chatter of the blind man...”

More and more such hints of some kind of special awareness of higher political matters began to appear in the text. Having reached the twenty-fourth date, Vlasov drew attention to the description of one dinner in a friendly circle in December of the fortieth:

“... Then conversations began about where fate and the will of the command would take us next year. Gradually, the dispute came down to which country among our enemies would be the next target for our strike. Someone suggested something like fortune telling. We spread a map of the world on the table, and then everyone, with their eyes closed, had to mark a dot with the tip of a pencil. It was funny to watch. We laughed when the dots fell on our territory. It was clear to everyone that the garrison did not threaten us. Entering the territory of the British Isles, the Apennines or North Africa evoked approving smiles. A strike on the Balkans or even Turkey was disapproved: everyone understood that this was a real, albeit unpleasant, chance for events to develop. This was especially clear to me - unlike my colleagues, I was well aware of the role and scale of Bolshevik support for the Turkish regime. However, I was confident that the Turks would not dare to openly resist the will of the superior race. So when it came to me, I closed my eyes and confidently moved my hand to the right. I intended to hit Moscow, but ended up in the Smolensk area. This gesture of mine was met with bewildered silence - the recently concluded non-aggression pact still seemed to be something more than just a political ploy. I, of course, knew the truth: the long-awaited war with Russia was supposed to begin next summer...”

As the story approached the forty-first year, Vlasov slowed down the leafing and began to read carefully.

The interesting thing started on page one hundred and ninety-five, in the chapter “The Origins of Deutsch’s Policy in the East.” At first, it seemed to Friedrich that Zain-Wittgenstein was again delving into discussions about history, but then he took a closer look and realized that it was worth reading.

“I will not waste time expounding the legend of the Teutonic Order, approved by court historiographers,” the prince carefully concluded, “for now it is generally known to every Deutsch scholar. It is enough just to recall that, according to the official version of events, the penultimate Grand Master of the Order, Archduke Eugen, expelled from his homeland along with the other Habsburgs, was forced in the face of the Pope to resign his powers in order to transfer them to Norbert Klein, under whose unfortunate leadership the Order allegedly finally degenerated and was dissolved without much resistance. The heir to the traditions of the Order became - or rather, was declared retroactively - young but powerful Prussia, led by an energetic patriotic leadership. She, they say, took upon herself the most important goals and objectives of the Order.

I testify that this is only a shell of the truth. In fact, Archduke Eugen Habsburg transferred his true powers to a much more influential and powerful person, whose name I have no right to disclose even now. I can only hint that this glorious son of our people, shamelessly slandered, until recently eked out a gloomy and painful existence far from his homeland, enduring torment comparable to the torment of the saints of the first centuries of Christianity. This great man, whose name is unfairly cursed and forgotten - moreover, in his homeland he was declared a madman, and outside of it he was thrown into prison and subsequently shamefully killed after endless years of captivity as a result of a conspiracy between the new authorities of Germany and its enemies, for both , and others were extremely interested in his silence - it was this man who was and remained the true Grandmaster of the Order, in the capacity in which the Order existed after its external fall. I know this better than anyone else, since I, first as the Secret Administrator of the Magistrate in the lands of Osterreich, and subsequently as the Secret Capitulary of the Order, was his assistant in his labors for several years. Now that the majestic plans of the Order have been crushed - alas, not by the forces of enemies, but by the insidious betrayal of those whom we considered our friends - this can be said openly.

I will make a reservation, however, that, despite the current very deplorable state of affairs, I still consider myself bound by the unbreakable oaths of the Order, and therefore the most important secrets associated with the history and traditions of the Order will in no case be divulged - at least by me. In particular, I vowed never to reveal the name of our Grandmaster and his closest assistants...”

Vlasov smiled wryly: after such a pompous oath, it became clear to him that the old man intended to tell everything he knew, and maybe a little more. This vividly reminded Friedrich of the peculiar manner of keeping his word that was distinguished by the other Zain - unfortunately, who managed to escape into his Jewish hell, or whatever they have instead of hell... In any case, the name of the Grandmaster, which was not formally mentioned, was indicated more than obvious - at least for those who know history not from school textbooks, from where mentions of Rudolf Hess were indeed erased.

The next two sheets were missing from the plattendat, and the one hundred and ninety-eighth page began with the words:

“... has nothing to do with the comic and sinister attempt to “revive” the Order, that is, its “transformation” by the traitor and traitor Reinhard Heydrich. Anticipating what follows, I will say that it was the urgent need to get rid of these people that greatly influenced the decisions that were made in those tragic days by all interested parties.

Now, finally, I can tell the truth about the personnel of the last true edition of the Order. As far as I know, in the period before 1941 its ranks were decorated with such outstanding deutschmen as...”

The next twenty-something lines were erased by the image editor - in their place a crossed out square was drawn. Only the last line poked out from under it, clearly left on purpose:

“...and a former church servant in a Benedictine monastery, later the holder of a party card with the single-digit number of a certain small party.”

Vlasov involuntarily shuddered. Like any honest Deutsch, he saw this party card, stored under a layer of armored glass in the Pantheon of the National Socialist Party in Munich.

He looked up from his text to look at his watch. There was still enough time left before the banks opened, so they could allow themselves to calmly consider the new information.

In principle, discussions about the connections of the Hitler elite with the remnants of the Teutonic Order were not news - at least in the West, where the ignorant public adored everything “secret”, “going back centuries” and necessarily terrible. The Teutonic Order with its history was perfectly suited for demonization: the military machine that crushed the West Slavic tribes and erected the cities of the Deutsch Mark on their lands looked truly impressive. True, the very project of expansion to the East by fire and sword and the Germanization of the Slavic lands turned out to be simply unprofitable, and therefore left the historical stage, giving way to the rationally organized Prussian Reich, who utilized and used the order’s heritage, including symbols, a system of ranks and military awards. Some remnants of the order's structures existed to this day: desperately straining his memory, Friedrich remembered that about five years ago the “Abbot-Hochmeister of the Order” came from somewhere near Vienna on Polish affairs. It seems that he was an elderly idiot who took it into his head to make a militaristic speech on the topic of “under-civilized” Poles and other Slavic peoples. Having figured it out - it was a hot time, and the unfortunate old man was mistaken for a provocateur - they lightly tutted at him and left him alone. I remember that Müller, with his characteristic humor, proposed sending the Abbot-Hochmeister to Dr. Mengele for experiments: to try the latest sedatives on him... Nothing more significant was listed behind the Order.

Zu Sein-Wittgenstein's story allowed us to look at the matter from a different angle. If the Teutonic Order really continued to exist - not as an operetta, but as a viable structure - right up to the thirties and forties, and it consisted of quite serious people, then here we can really say... Here Vlasov decisively cut himself off . What can we talk about here? After all, he remembered, any serious politician belongs to a dozen or so organizations, including those that do not advertise their activities. As a rule, he does this not in order to serve these organizations, but in order to benefit from their financial and human resources, as well as to have a platform for disseminating his own ideas. Moreover, in the twenties, when Germany was humiliated and crushed, and patriots were looking for consolation in the glorious past, interest in the Order was quite understandable - especially for Catholics, at least nominally. Hitler was one of these: he was indeed born into a Catholic family and studied in a Benedictine monastery as a child. Subsequently, looking for those people whom he could lead and lead, Hitler could well have come across people from the Order. Nothing followed from this, except that for some time he was a member of this curious organization, that’s all.

However, if the Grandmaster of the Order actually occupied the high position that Sein-Wittgenstein hinted at - and what’s more, wrote almost openly - this changed things somewhat. In addition, judging by what has already been said, the Order actually gave its members certain opportunities - for example, disseminated classified information through its channels. Another question is how much Hitler’s secretary influenced his real decisions... However, Friedrich reminded himself, the Western man in the street will in any case draw his own conspiracy conclusions, and Atlanticist propaganda will find where to make their profit here.

He returned to the text. Further on there was a gaping hole in the numbering: the next date began on page two hundred and sixty-one. The handwriting here has become more sloppy - the old man was either tired of writing out curlicues, or he was simply in a hurry - but, oddly enough, more convenient to read.

“... a detailed conversation with him that lasted long after midnight. We both agreed that all healthy national forces must unite to prevent the danger looming over our beloved Motherland. Alas, this danger came from those who were elevated to the highest service to her - that is, to the helm of power.

On the previous pages I gave quite a few examples of absurd, absurd and even criminal decisions that were made by the so-called “Führer of the Deutsch Nation”. For some time, this man was saved by arrogance and a kind of luck inherent in upstarts. However, insufficient depth of thinking, complete inability for serious independent work, lack of education, lack of real internal culture - all this inevitably had to sooner or later lead to the collapse of all his endeavors. Then it was not obvious to laymen, but clear as day to people who are deeper and able to see further than others.

I must admit: a certain, and not the best, part of his ideas for this man owes to the Order and the Grandmaster personally.

I don't hold the Order in any way responsible for this. Alas, profane people always reduce complex doctrines to a primitive level understandable to their flat minds. This happened with the greatest doctrine of the Order - the idea of ​​\u200b\u200bthe Onslaught to the East.

This doctrine has the deepest occult roots..."

Friedrich snorted.

“...I can only hint at the fact that the very word “East” has always meant for initiates not only the material lands lying east of Vaterland and inhabited by Slavic peoples, but also the mystical, occult East - that East of the soul that was told about Great German clairvoyants to us. However, this true East, the homeland of our soul, is now inhabited by the Slavs - who, again, should be understood as a material and symbolic image of our internal imperfections: that lower, slavish thing that is in our nature, which is what this name itself speaks of - the Slavs, sclavi, slaves. The notorious thesis Slaven sind Sklaven, interpreted by laymen as a call for the enslavement of Eastern European peoples, is in fact only an explanation of the true meaning of the term. The idea that the Slavs should be exterminated or baptized thus means that the lower qualities should either be destroyed or placed in the service of higher principles. Vaterland symbolizes the basis of selfhood, the mystical Spark of the Spirit. Material actions in this direction must be carried out with due caution and in no case interfere with spiritual actions...”

Vlasov poked his light pencil at the badge covering the date with disgust. He hated this kind of reasoning, because he knew well why it was needed. Islamist preachers also liked to talk about the mystical aspects of “jihad.” Always, when a preacher was taken at his word, it turned out that it was a matter of symbolism and allegory, that calls for the murder of Jews and non-Muslims in general meant just allegorical calls for the liberation of consciousness from vices, and the “worldwide Islamic Ummah” is “a country of the soul granted Allah the faithful,” while specific terrorist attacks are only “consequences of the laymen’s misunderstanding of complex Islamic doctrines.” The same songs were sung by the separatists of Sri Lanka: for them, the murder of a Hindu meant “liberation of the soul from the painful circle of rebirths” and was called “an act of ahimsa.” However, when Indian troops began to actively save the souls of the separatists themselves, for some reason they filed complaints with international organizations and talked about the bloody cruelty of the Indian regime. And so on - right up to the American totalitarian sects, which covered up murders and perversions with arguments about the “symbolic significance” of these abominations, evoking the sympathy of empty-headed university intellectuals.

At times it even occurred to Vlasov that the communists, despite all the disgustingness of their ideology and practice, at least did not attach a mystical dimension to their doctrines and persisted in their irreconcilable atheism to the end. Otherwise, this infection would not have been eradicated even on the territory of those countries that suffered the most from it: there would have been those who would have sung sweet songs from the pulpits and from the pages of newspapers that communism is the “homeland of the soul” and the “newest covenant,” and the expropriation of expropriators is a spiritual practice that should not always be taken literally. Hitler was also honest, speaking about the rights of the Deutsch nation directly and harshly.

He interrupted his thoughts and opened the next page. What he saw there did not surprise him too much.

“...one cannot neglect the material aspect of an inherently spiritual act. Therefore, the greatest goals of the Order - the unification of Greater Germany within its natural borders and the advancement of German civilization to the East, the flowering of the German spirit, le retour des Grands Temps - also had that component that we know about from ordinary history textbooks.

Hitler understood nothing of this. He took away only one thing from the order’s ideology - hatred and disgust for the Slavic peoples and the desire to free the vast expanses of the East from them with the goal of subsequent colonization of these lands by ethnic Deutsche. The absurdity of such plans was proven by the most basic arithmetic calculations. Moreover, to please his prejudices, Hitler retreated from the data of racial science on the Slavic question, declaring a whole number of Aryan peoples non-Aryans, according to all objective parameters, from language to genetics, related specifically to the Aryans. All this almost led to the collapse of our offensive in the East, which is now recognized even by official Reich historians. Looking far ahead, I will note: for several decades now I have been an inhabitant of one of the most significant geographically and demographically Slavic countries, I can testify that the only way for us to advance in these spaces is their gradual spiritual Germanization. Alas! Modern Germany needs the same thing, and perhaps to a greater extent than Russia! In any case, I can testify that even the Russian Volksdeutsch have retained much more of the truly Deutschian spirit than the depraved and pompous Berliners or Munichers...”

Friedrich flipped through a couple of pages filled with yet another outburst of old man's emotions.

“Despite all the efforts of our Grandmaster, who for a long time spiritually nurtured Hitler and was for the so-called “Führer of the German people” a staff and a candle, this man was never able to absorb the deep teachings that we tried to teach him.

Here it is worth saying a few words about the so-called “insight” of Hitler. It is known that in the first months of the war he acted like a sighted man among the blind. Starting a war with another European country, he already knew when our soldiers would enter the enemy capital. This could not be explained even by intelligence achievements. However, much will become clearer if we remember the long-standing ties of the Order with certain secret structures that have existed in Europe for centuries and have a huge influence on real politics...”

Vlasov pressed the key and moved to the next date. It started like this:

“...a false understanding of the events of May 10, 1941 is quite natural - for those who do not know their true background. First of all, this was not the first flight of the Grandmaster behind the front line. He conducted very difficult negotiations with British structures, partly related to the Order and not perceiving the revival of Germany as something absolutely hostile and dangerous. I do not have reliable information about how aware Hitler was of his actions - but I am almost sure that he had a certain idea of ​​​​what was happening. All the more terrible and absurd was what happened immediately after, when Hitler, through the mouth of Goebbels, declared our Grandmaster a madman, “living in a world of hallucinations.” Undoubtedly, Hitler was only waiting for the moment to get rid of his hateful guardianship on our part.

No less shameful was the reaction of the nation, which boasted of its sporting spirit...”

Vlasov skipped several paragraphs.

“...However, we must admit that Hitler was not yet as hopeless as his inner circle. It made the most depressing impression. It consisted mainly of people with the intellect and outlook of small shopkeepers and was affected by ressentiment of the most disgusting nature. Suffice it to recall such curious figures as Goebbels or Himmler. Nowadays, it is difficult to imagine that such people once had real power.

Our random allies, alas, also differed little from Hitler and his people. These were well-intentioned, but vulgar, flat people, lacking scale - although, we must give them their due, they were not bad soldiers. Rommel inspired sincere respect from all who knew him. However, was he a deep thinker who understood the fate of Germany? Unfortunately no. The same can be said about the Abwehr leader Canaris, who, despite his dexterity, did not know well enough...”

Vlasov leaned back in his chair, digesting the accumulated irritation. The prince's pompous speeches simply reeked of the most disgusting kind of snobbery - namely, the snobbery of a theorist, sitting comfortably in a chair in front of a pile of books and judging the heroes of the past from the position of a learned know-it-all.

Friedrich reminded himself that the prince in his best years did not grumble about the insufficient internal culture of the Reich leadership, but boldly hunted for enemy aircraft. Although it is unlikely that in the cockpit of a fighter he was visited by deep thoughts about the future of the world... Vlasov inopportunely remembered the piquant French adventure of the prince, in which both scale and grandeur were completely absent - and with a huge effort of will he returned himself to reading.

There was a gap in the sheets again: the next page was two hundred and eighty-nine.

“...accompanied by a major unknown to me. The conversation did not last long. I was told what we thought was good news at the time: General Manstein had joined our cause. This meant that the General Staff was entirely ours, and we no longer had to fear for the success of the enterprise.

As usually happens, good news was followed by bad news: friction began in our ranks. Guderian, still reeling from the scandal of August 23, when Hitler allowed himself to publicly humiliate him, insisted on immediate action. Canaris hesitated, in his next letter - as always, late - he advised to work out the situation more carefully in order to eliminate unpleasant surprises. If only we knew then what awaits us in just a few days!

Here it is worth saying a few words about our initial plans. It was planned to destroy Hitler, Bormann and Heydrich, as well as several other figures who seemed dangerous to us. The rest were planned to be arrested and dealt with as their share of guilt before the people and Reich became clear. The Order especially insisted on eliminating Heydrich. However, this applied to Hitler, as a traitor to our ideals, to the same extent: he had to die.

As for the future, it was planned to introduce a system of temporary management, where the three main masterminds of the conspiracy would solve current problems - primarily military ones - under the auspices and spiritual guidance of true intellectuals capable of taking into their hands the future of the country as a whole. Formally, the place of the first person was intended for Hitler's official successor, the chairman of the defense council, Reichsmarschall Hermann Goering. Of course, no one was going to give into the hands of this jovial hysteric the power that his predecessor possessed. Alas, at that time we had no idea about his true plans.

Subsequently, when everything collapsed, I asked myself a thousand times: did the triumvirs plan betrayal from the very beginning, or, frightened and stunned by the pace of events, did they act accidentally, blindly, at random, without thinking about the consequences? Eventually I came to the conclusion that it was both. Frankly, they simply viewed us as expendable. However, I’ll be fair: they treated each other the same way.

Let us return, however, to the factual side of the matter. Oddly enough, eliminating Hitler was not the most difficult stage of the operation. Of course, he was perfectly guarded. However, this incorrigible poser could not give up such a drug as oratory in front of crowds, visits to military units and hospitals, public awards, and so on. Being flesh of the flesh of the plebs, he renewed his strength by touching this life-giving source for him...”

Vlasov missed everything else.

“...the striking force was to be the remnants of the SA personnel who escaped extermination on the “night of the long knives” on July 30, 1934. Communication with them was allegedly carried out by Goering - as a former head of the SA, who had once gone over to Hitler's side in time, but retained his old contacts and took a personal part in saving some of the people he needed. In his own words, he enjoyed unquestioned authority among them. He presented the matter like this: these people fanatically hated Hitler, who, at the hands of the SS men, carried out a massacre and destroyed without trial their comrades, who had always faithfully served the ideals of National Socialism, and were ready to sacrifice themselves. All this was a lie by Goering, who only pretended that he was with us.

For the Deutsch reader - if my book ever falls into his hands, which is unlikely - the above will be surprising: after all, the official conclusions of the Commission for the Investigation of Crimes against Reich state that the massacre in the Reichstag was made possible thanks to the collusion of the top SS leadership with former stormtroopers who took revenge for the death of comrades. However, many crimes have previously been tried to be blamed on these shadows of the past - Ryom's stormtroopers. Suffice it to recall the ridiculous “letter from Krause,” who accused his comrades of burning down the Reichstag in 1933. In fact, this version was revived after the September Murders - except in new packaging. The Deutschi, sensing the already familiar taste, eagerly ate what was spoon-fed to them from the radio speaker.

In fact, no former stormtroopers played any role in the events. Moreover, I am convinced that they did not even exist. Goering's talk about his connections with a certain SA underground was as much a lie as everything else.

I will note between the lines that our Grandmaster did much more to save the lives of innocent SA fighters than this man. Of course, we counted on these connections. Alas, the terrible May event tore these weapons out of our hands - even if they were once in our hands. In any case, I don’t know anything about this for certain.

However, guessing about what did not happen is a matter for idle and shallow minds. The truth is that the September murders were the work of completely different people, many of whom are still considered models of loyalty to the Fatherland and the Deutsch people to this day.”

One page was missing again, and the next page read:

“...an individual assassination attempt is impossible. The option with a bomb attached to a miniature aircraft - the idea, it seems, was expressed by Jodl in a half-joking form - was not the most hopeless. In the same way, the idea of ​​a bomb in a briefcase or folder was rejected; the conspirators had every opportunity to carry such a device almost anywhere, but only with them. Professor Gebhardt - who later killed his friend and long-term patient of Dr. Goebbels - offered interesting options with a poisoned bullet or needle. As you know, all these exotic..."

The text broke off, filled with another black square.

Vlasov thoughtfully twirled the light pencil in his hands. Despite all the pathos and omissions, the picture emerged quite clearly - and very unflattering for the author of “Memoirs”.

It seems that the pompous fools into whose company young Hitler once joined actually expected him to lift them to the heights of power. Hitler, apparently, came under the influence of one of them, who for some time played the role of his closest assistant. However, the intrigues and attempts at independent foreign policy play of this character ultimately led to a scandalous break. It ended badly for both: Hitler was killed, and his former friend and teacher, who made a scandalous flight to Scotland, remained the only prisoner of the Tower for many decades. Vlasov was aware of the legal trick by which the British kept the most senior of their prisoners for themselves, contrary to all the rules requiring the exchange of prisoners after the end of the war. It was announced that Hess was facing the death penalty in his homeland (and indeed, Hitler, having learned about his flight, enragedly ordered “to shoot him on the spot if he ever appears on German territory” - however, this sentence was not confirmed by any court ), and Britain, which had just abolished this useful institution, passed a law prohibiting the extradition of criminals to countries where they could be executed. In other words, Hess was doomed to indefinite imprisonment far from his homeland “for humanitarian reasons.” Neither Dietl nor Schuck bothered to pull him out, although they could have, and in 1987 he was found dangling in a homemade noose under rather suspicious circumstances... It is quite possible that he actually took some secrets with him to the grave. then behind-the-scenes negotiations, but, as is known, in practice they never led to anything. And, it seems, the capabilities of the “Teutons” were limited by the same person. As for the other members of the order, realizing their powerlessness and harmlessness - as well as their uselessness - Hitler left them to live, which he never allowed in games with political opponents of a higher class. All he did was take away from them the name “Teutonic Order” with the hands of Heydrich - by the way, with the knowledge, if not with the consent, of the Grandmaster of the Order of the present... Humane, but short-sighted: even the most insignificant but evil enemy can get your chance to get even. As Müller put it in such cases, “even the dead are not entirely safe, let alone the living.” In any case, Heinrich zu Sein-Wittgenstein tried to create many problems for his country even after his death.

The next plattendat contained page 322. Friedrich first glanced at it absent-mindedly, then pulled Toshiba closer to him and began to read very carefully.

“... turning into panic.

Immediately from the airfield, without changing clothes, I headed to the indicated address. Almost all the participants from our first meeting six months ago were present, including Jodl.

I will not retell everything that happened on that truly historic night. The situation was critical: after Goering's shameful betrayal, Hitler knew - or could have known - almost everything, including detailed lists of the conspirators. However, it would not be difficult to obtain them: the Gestapo, having received direct instructions from the Fuhrer, would not stand on ceremony with anyone, and the interrogation methods used in this organization are known for their effectiveness.

On the other hand, he could not immediately bring down his anger on us: repressions against the top of the German leadership - and the conspirators belonged to it - in the midst of the war would lead to very serious problems. Hitler could not help but understand this. He needed at least a few days to collect evidence that he could present to the Deutsch people.

My position at that time was, perhaps, preferable to that of everyone else. Despite everything that was said above, if judged from a purely external, factual point of view, without penetrating into the essence of things, then my participation in the matter was extremely insignificant. In fact, all that could be blamed on me - again, from an external point of view - was that I knew about the conspiracy, was present at several meetings of the conspirators, and also on several occasions played a role that can be called a courier: I was a transfer agent. a link in the conspirators' communication with our Grandmaster. I also took part in the transfer of money from the Holy See, which I briefly mentioned above.”

Vlasov thought about returning to the missing pages, but decided not to fuss.

“I had no other sins then,” the prince continued.

“That’s it,” thought Vlasov. It was already clear: Heinrich zu Sein-Wittgenstein did not play a very important role, no matter how much he wanted to prove the opposite to himself and his readers.

“It is unknown how our discussion would have ended if not for the energetic speech of Canaris, supported by me and Yodel. He convinced us that our only chance was to march immediately - before fear and despondency broke our ranks. Under the circumstances, we had nothing to lose except honor. Honor is easy to defend: one shot is enough.”

Friedrich thought about Eberling, who had chosen a different solution, and with a heavy heart removed the page from the screen.

The next date began on page 329. The page was titled: “Edward Dietl.”

“I am approaching this part of my story not without hesitation and doubt,” the prince wrote, writing out every word with particular care, “since much of what I have to tell my contemporaries and descendants may seem to them an encroachment on the laurels of our ancestors and honor our common home, Germany.

However, glorifying victories - or what at one time or another are considered victories - and passing over in silence the mistakes, defeats and especially the crimes of their fathers, descendants imagine that they are doing them a favor, not realizing that in the face of eternity , which sooner or later will absorb everything, proudly exhibited and bashfully hidden actions look equally insignificant. Only spiritual cleansing, recognition of one’s sins and sincere repentance for them can cleanse our blood, our soil...”

What a dirty trick,” Vlasov whispered in Russian. He knew these arguments well: they were one of the most popular tools in the working toolkit of right-wing Atlanticist propaganda. Skunks were especially good at this toolkit: a country whose true history was buried in the deep basements of the relevant services (it was not even known who actually killed their most popular president), loved to expose other people's history and paid well for it. Not that Frederick was against the publication of the historical truth, but the “historical truth” in the American version looked like this: of the two parties to the conflict, one was proclaimed either an innocent victim (and then any of its actions were a priori justified by self-defense), or a fighter for a just cause (and then the same thing was justified by a lofty goal) - and then the most scrupulous analysis of the actions (and especially violent actions) of the other side began.

However, hand on heart, it was impossible not to admit that imperial propaganda periodically sinned in the same way, only with the reverse distribution of roles.

“So, I intend to tell the world the truth about Edward Dietl - including the truth that no one alive now knows. Alas, now there is no one to either confirm or refute my testimony at this trial of history. I can only guarantee on my word as a soldier that I am telling the truth to the best of my knowledge. What speaks in my favor is that I myself was a witness and participant in the events described.

The official biography of the first Reichspresident is well known in Germany and in the Reichsraum. For the reader unfamiliar with Deutsch history textbooks, I will still remind you of the most important thing.

Dietl was born in 1890 in Bavaria. During the First German War he was a company commander, and proved himself well in this capacity. Since 1920, he was a member of the National Socialist Party of Germany, thus being a veteran of the party. That same year he returned to military service, where he excelled. Since 1935, he became the commander of the 99th Mountain Rifle Regiment, the history and combat path of which is now known to every Deutsch schoolchild. Again, as every Deutsch knows, he was the first in German history to become a holder of the new order - the Knight's Cross with Oak Leaves. Already in the rank of General Oberst, he received a special honor - he became the first Deutsch to be awarded the Narvik Shield, established in honor of the capture and defense of the Norwegian Narvik. It is in honor of Dietl that this sleeve insignia features an edelweiss flower, a symbol of the mountain rangers he commanded. On March 21, 1941, Hitler personally presented this award to him. I believe Dietl later recalled this scene with mixed feelings.

In 1941, Edward Dietl was appointed commander of the mountain rifle corps. Around the same time, clear signs of a kind of cult of Dietl appeared: official propaganda began to enthusiastically describe his military exploits. Dietl willingly took on the role of the “ideal Deutsch soldier” and posed for photographers. I will not discuss how much such behavior adorns the Deutsch warrior: after all, there are certain propaganda goals for the sake of which the inherent restraint of Deutsch, so contrary to the Western desire for fame, glossy photographs and the glory of the so-called “star,” should be temporarily put aside. Alas, the attention and admiration of the public is like flattery - it corrupts the soul. Subsequently, Dietl fully satisfied his obscenely inflamed vanity: throughout the rest of his life, his portrait hung in every Deutsch house.”

Vlasov moved to the next page.

“But let's return to the facts - or to what is now considered facts. According to the official version, after the September murders, Dietl flies to Berlin, where he assumes the powers of Chairman of the Commission for the Investigation of Crimes against Reich. Somewhat later - on this issue Deutsch's sources, usually very detailed, for some reason (I'll tell you why) begin to be full of blank spots and traces of omissions - he also takes on the additional burden of acting Reich Chancellor. Experts familiar with the archives claim that this appointment occurred with numerous violations of procedure. In fact, this appointment was carried out under intense pressure, which even the regime’s apologists reluctantly admit.

On March 14, 1942, Dietl became Reich Chancellor. By that time, he begins to create his own structures, beyond the control of the triumvirate. Deutsch historians, among the most objective, admit through gritted teeth that Goering, who was actually removed from power, but still remained an influential figure, provided him with some help in this.”

Vlasov flipped the page, glanced at the next one and began reading from the last paragraph:

“The long struggle with the triumvirate for power could not but affect the quality of the country’s leadership, and primarily in the military field. The war stalled, turning from swift and victorious into exhausting and burdensome. Hitler was deprived of a true military genius, but at least he had a desperate adventurism that allowed him to accomplish the impossible; Dietl did not have this either. In the end, he decided to sacrifice his country and its interests, but not his power.

The next page continued:

“...which put an end to Germany's legitimate claim to final victory and dominance in the world. This essentially capitulating document is still praised by Deutsch propaganda as the greatest victory. I will return to this shameful and ridiculous agreement more than once. For now, I’ll just say that, as a Deutsch warrior who repeatedly risked his life in the name of Germany, I consider this treaty an insult to my military honor, as a descendant of the Germans and a member of the Teutonic Order - the greatest betrayal of the deeds of my ancestors, and as a political thinker - a shameful mistake, all the consequences which..."

“Me too, a political thinker,” Vlasov thought angrily. “I wonder what he will say about the atomic bomb?”

“...will become clear only to distant descendants.

I will not hide that my position may not be understood by the Deutsch, brought up on pro-Dietlev propaganda. The peace treaty and the renunciation of many territorial acquisitions by Germany are presented as a necessary sacrifice or military stratagem that made it possible to avoid a nuclear war in Europe - in conditions when Germany did not have atomic weapons. It does not occur to anyone that the criminal delay in the creation of the atomic bomb lies entirely on the conscience of the German leadership, that is, first of all, Dietl. It was he, and no one else, who was to blame for the fact that the Deutschs were not the first to subjugate atomic energy. It is enough to remove the blinders from your eyes to understand: all efforts and all funds should have been thrown into the nuclear project. It was possible to steal nuclear secrets from the enemy. Finally, in the most extreme case, we could take the risk and continue the war: it is unlikely that our enemies at that time had a sufficient number of nuclear warheads to crush the heart of Germany. Nothing is impossible if you exert your will. And, I will add, nothing is possible if the will is absent - or, worse, it is inclined towards compromise, towards peace at any cost.”

Vlasov took out a damp cloth and wiped his forehead: it was hot in the room. The prince’s reasoning was familiar to him: as a schoolchild, he himself asked such questions - to himself and to adults, for which he received scoldings from his history teacher more than once or twice. Subsequently, when he himself had become thoroughly involved in behind-the-scenes affairs, he was only surprised how Dietl, in his desperate situation, managed not only to maintain power (and, therefore, the country), but to win the war in the East and hold on to the Western Front. The prince, however, found it more convenient to take a radical position, which differed from the well-known reasoning of the grandfathers from the National Patriotic Front except by the absence of pro-Hitler rhetoric. What will the prince write about the Renewal?

This became clear after three paragraphs, filled with the same dissatisfied muttering:

“I will not analyze in detail Dietl’s other actions - namely, the artificial creation of the post of Reich President and his usurpation in 1949, his incompetent economic policy, which plunged the Reich into the post-war crisis, the belated and prohibitively expensive solution to the atomic problem, the shameful Nobel Peace Prize accepted by the Reich President from the hands of Western plutocrats. The loyalty inherent in every honest Deutsch for the time being forced me to endure and remain silent, despite everything that I knew about this man.

The last straw was the so-called Second Extraordinary Congress of the Party and the subsequent campaign of extermination of the truly German spirit, pharisaically called “Renewal.” At the end of the book I will cover in more detail this greatest crime against Deutsch's patriotic ideals and national interests. For now I will only say one thing: this is what prompted me to make the hardest decision in my life - I left the borders of the Fatherland. The bitter paradox is that I found shelter and help in a country whose very existence contradicted many of my previous views. I will talk about all this - that is, about my move to Russia and the circumstances surrounding it - in detail in the last part of the book.”

The word “help” interested Vlasov: the old man was either letting it slip, or directly hinting at some kind of participation or interest of the Russian authorities... However, Vlasov decided, first he needed to look through the text to the end.

The next page began with the words:

“But let’s return to the events of 1941. First of all, I intend to expose the pompous myth that has nothing in common with the truth about the so-called “Dietl flight”, designed to overshadow another flight in the minds. I testify that at least 24 hours before the events began, Edward Dietl was already in Berlin, which I myself witnessed.”

Vlasov exhaled noisily. It was a strong statement.

“He was introduced into our circle by Jodl, who was connected with Dietl through his brother Ferdinand. However, Canaris promoted it most actively. I still remember his words: “This is the person we need, who will take on all the dirt.” This meant the power part of the coup.

At that time, I did not know that back in 1920, Edward Dietl, having returned to military service, was engaged in the deployment of the party propaganda system in the troops and the party intelligence network, sometimes performing very delicate, to say the least, tasks. If I had known this in advance, I might have treated this person with more attention. At that time, like most of the conspirators, I saw in him and his mountain rangers just an instrument of our plans.

For the first time I saw him in person on the eve of the events, that is, on August 29, 1941. I admit honestly, at that moment he made the most favorable impression on me. Tall, fit, with an honest, open face, he seemed like a real Deutsch hero. He completely shared our goals and ideals and was ready for literally anything. In addition - however, this was the main thing - there was a force behind him, namely the Alpine shooters. It turns out that Dietl, by his personal order, transferred some of those most devoted to him...” Here the text ended with the same square.

The next date began on page three hundred and forty.

“Truly, history has never known such a crazy adventure, such a poorly prepared plan that was ultimately crowned with success! Remembering it now, I can say this: we all should have died. We were saved by a series of accidents, as well as by the impudence of despair that those condemned to death sometimes display, throwing themselves with shackled hands at the executioner.

Before continuing, I will remind you of an interesting, but few people notice, detail. Despite the mountains of books devoted to the September murders, there is still not a single convincing reconstruction of what exactly happened on that fateful morning. There is not even a complete list of all the victims - more precisely, several versions of it are in circulation, and imperial historians enthusiastically argue whether such and such a deputy, a security guard, or just a visitor who accidentally got into the building was a victim of the September murders or not.

Officially, this is explained by the fact that the Commission first laid its paw on all materials related to September: just in case, everything was declared a secret. Subsequently, the usual bureaucratic games in such cases began - it turned out that the bulk of the documents could not be made available to the public in the foreseeable future. Specially lured historians on the payroll of well-known services sometimes get the opportunity to look at this or that document, which only confuses the matter. There is not even a single feature film in the entire Reichsraum where murder scenes were filmed. The great Leni Riefenstahl personally told me that she tried to get permission to shoot such a film, but received a decisive refusal. It is not surprising: the rulers of Reich do not want its inhabitants to have at least some kind of image, albeit a false one, but still an image of this most important event in our history. A blind spot and the absence of any light are the only things that suit them.

I will fill this shameful gap in historical truth - as best I can. Of course, in addition to my personal memories, there will also be what I managed to find out while I was still in the ranks of the conspirators who had already won, but had not yet entered into battle with each other and were therefore frank. However, the time for frankness quickly ended.

Let's start with the fact that the Reichstag meeting was scheduled for early morning - at the personal request (that is, order) of Hitler, who intended to give a speech. We were sure that this speech would be devoted to exposing the “dastardly conspiracy against the Fuhrer and the people of Germany.” This version was also supported by the fact that a radio broadcast was planned. However, Hitler loved the sounds of his own voice and at every opportunity he tried to bless everyone with the opportunity to once again listen to the nonsense he spewed out, sometimes for several hours in a row.

It cannot be said that the Reichstag building was not guarded. On the contrary, it was guarded too well. There were at least two practically independent security systems for the premises, one of which dealt exclusively with the lower tiers of the building and the catacombs, including the protection of underground passages, including the notorious underground passage to the building of the Chairman of the Reichstag. In addition, important people visited the building along with their guards. They were especially afraid of Hitler's personal guard - the powers of these people were as high as their suspicion.

However, the external security of the building was frankly weak - this was clear even to me. Psychologically, this can be understood: the palace, located in the center of the imperial capital, was not perceived as ... "

Here the text broke off, and was followed by page three hundred and forty-four.

“...his personal participation. Dietl was one of the five who climbed to the dome of the building. Be that as it may, it was a worthy and courageous act, and I must repeat these words even now.

The ascent was a grotesque sight. "Edelweiss" climbed the steep wall of the Reichstag, easily driving climbing hooks into the cracks between the slabs. I would never have imagined that such a method of assault was even possible if I had not seen it with my own eyes.

However, as for visibility, it left much to be desired: the September night was not dark enough. However, the agility and agility of the Edelweiss were such that their bodies almost merged with the thick black shadow cast by the building. They moved almost silently. It seems that I heard a muffled knock: the blows were delivered by mining hammers equipped with special hard rubber nozzles, but they were still not completely silent.

After the first five climbed, some equipment began to be lifted along the cables. Then I couldn't see what it was. Perhaps if I knew what kind of weapon they were going to use, I would have assessed our chances differently.

I don’t remember how long this lasted. It seemed like an eternity to me. One way or another, they had every chance of being noticed, despite the well-chosen location and thick shadow. I am still sure that some old man, a veteran of the last war, suffering from insomnia and suspicion, could have noticed a secretive movement on the wall. Perhaps there was no telephone in his miserable apartment to immediately inform the police, and he decided to wait until the morning - and in the morning he was still overcome by sleep?..

If we talk about our state of mind on that decisive night, I would call it sublime. There was neither fear nor that petty fussiness that usually masks fear. The brightening Berlin sky, the black and gray colonnade of the Reichstag - all this did not inspire us with either horror or hope. Everyone was calm and collected, equally ready for victory and defeat. As the great Deutsch poet said (can one not consider him a Deutsch who, in his flourishing years, left his accidental place of birth for the sake of Germany?), blessed is he who visited this world in its fatal moments. We all felt something similar. One heart beat in us, one breath lived in us, we felt like one.”

Vlasov tried to open another plattendat and cursed in annoyance through his teeth: there was some kind of glitch in the data, and the date did not open.

The next date contained page three hundred eighty-nine.

“The door swung wide open, and a man in a black jumpsuit and a gas mask leaned out. The first thing he did was hand me the same gas mask. He also offered me a cape, but I rejected it.

Taking this opportunity, I will expose another legend - about people in “black SS uniforms”. It was the color of the killers’ clothes that later became the reason for carefully spread rumors, as well as for very real repressions against the SS. In fact, these were ordinary rubberized army overalls with capes, used to protect against toxic substances. As I heard out of the corner of my ear, the entire shipment was seized from some old military warehouse by Canaris personally.

I still don't know what exactly they used. In any case, it was not sarin, soman or mustard gas, but something relatively new - at least for that time. It seemed to work very quickly and lethally.

Then, when it was all over, I had to - not out of curiosity, but out of necessity - visit the security rooms on the lower tiers. The war taught me to be calm, but the sight that greeted me still confused me. There were literally heaps of corpses lying there, piled on top of each other - all with blue faces and dry red foam on their lips. It seems no one had time to take up arms. Others, it seems, did not even have time to wake up. In one place, the passage was blocked by the corpse of an obese man with a half-eaten sandwich in his mouth. For some reason I remember this sandwich especially clearly.

But let's not lose sight of the chronological sequence of events. So, I walked in, hastily pulling the rubber mask over my head...”

On the next page the top paragraphs were blurred out again. I had to read from the middle.

“...they were commanded by a short, energetic man - I don’t remember his name and rank. It seems he later died during a shootout upstairs.

As I walked up the stairs, I saw blood running down the white marble. I've never seen so much blood. The carpet was swollen and there was a squelching sound underfoot. There was a corpse at the top. He was clearly a civilian - at least, his glasses and gray jacket, also soaked with blood, testified to this.

"Edelweiss" killed everyone who got in their way. Perhaps this was the only way out - to sow panic, horror, to arrange a real massacre in order to get to several well-guarded people.

So I walked up the stairs. I had a pistol in my hand, and I would not hesitate to use it if anyone got in my way. But there was no one, only someone’s indistinct moans and curses could be heard from the corridor. I don’t know what came over me, but I turned into the corridor. Frankly, I was ready to shoot the wounded man - his abuse angered me so much. To die with such dirty words on his lips was unworthy of any educated person.

It was dark in the corridor: half the light bulbs were off, and the rest were barely shining. Perhaps a stray bullet damaged the wiring. In the middle of the corridor, an overweight man with a gray face lay on his side. He was dressed in civilian clothes. His face through the glass of the gas mask seemed vaguely familiar to me, but nothing more.

Seeing me, he tried to move, but immediately dropped his hand powerlessly. I approached, holding my weapon at the ready.

The man raised his head with great effort and tried to look at me.

“I’m your friend,” I said, not taking my eyes off him. - What's going on here?

Treason, betrayal... - the man on the floor cursed loudly again, then pulled himself together and tried to speak clearly. - They kill everyone. Where is the Fuhrer?

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

Coup... - the man on the floor groaned, but concentrated again. - I have a lot of blood loss. Knock down the door to any office, drag me there and provide first aid. If you also find a working phone, you will receive the Iron Cross with Swords.

He said this so confidently, despite his weakness, that I tore off the gas mask - judging by the fact that the wounded man was still alive, there was no gas here - and took a closer look at him. My efforts were rewarded: I recognized him. This was none other than Dr. Hans Lammers, head of the Reich Chancellery and Hitler's adviser on legal issues. He was not one of the people we targeted for destruction in the first place - initially we only intended to arrest him. But all our original plans had already collapsed, and the blood that had already been shed by Dietl’s people could only be washed away by even more blood. In addition, Lammers was a dangerous opponent and a man fanatically devoted to Hitler. Some decision had to be made, and I made it.”

This is where the page ended.

There are only a few plattendats left. Friedrich opened another one. For some reason there was no page number. The handwriting became completely uneven.

“...strewn with shell casings. The walls were covered with potholes and bullet holes. Along the corridor lay several black and gray islands - the corpses of Edelweiss and guards. The Fuhrer's guards fought to the last and took many with them - I don't know, to hell or to Valhalla.

Then the left door opened and a man in a standard black jumpsuit and a gas mask came out. He also wore black gloves that shone with thick rubber. Tall, fit, he walked along the corridor with a confident gait, despite the heavy load - a dead man, whom he dragged along the floor behind him, firmly grasping by the collar like a hand.

Looking closer, I experienced something like mystical horror. This was the body of Adolf Hitler - a man who a few minutes ago was the sole ruler of the most powerful state in the world, the ruler of millions of people, the lord of their bodies and souls. As if in a dream, I stopped and looked at Hitler’s motionless face, a strand of hair stuck together with sweat, and a half-open mouth from which blood was flowing. He was not poisoned: he was shot like an animal in a hole.

The man in black dragged it as confidently as if the corpse were his property - like a fox or ferret carrying prey to its hole. There was something disgusting and at the same time fascinating about this sight.

Suddenly my horror turned into some strange delight. I realized that time had pronounced its verdict and we, Deutsch, had now - for better or worse - set foot on new historical ground. Obeying an impulse emanating from the depths of my soul, I stood up, stretched out and threw my right hand forward in a well-known gesture.

The man in black looked at me carefully. I didn't see his mouth, but it seemed to me that he was smiling. He also made a gesture, waving slightly at me with his raised hand with clenched fingers.

Many years later, I saw exactly the same gesture from a certain famous (I can’t call him great) politician speaking from the UN rostrum at the moment of his greatest triumph.

I can't swear it was the same person. But even if it’s him, it will be an act that I will never blame on him alone, even if he did it personally, with his own hands. We are all guilty, and I don't want to deny my own responsibility. However, I cannot deny that...”

Friedrich chuckled, thinking about how a good Hollywood director could shoot such a scene.

The next date contained several pages at once, starting with number 403. They were written more carefully.

“Goering remained the problem. Unfortunately, in addition to the understandable awareness of the conspiracy, he had a formidable weapon in his hands: Hitler’s decree of June 29, in which Goering was declared the Fuhrer’s successor in the event of the latter’s inability to lead the country. Despite the extraordinary powers that the Commission managed to arrogate to itself and the resulting opportunity to stall for time, this was, as the British say, a stubborn fact. In addition, Goering knew almost everything about our capabilities. On the other hand, the triumvirs were ready to finish what they started at any cost. If there was no other choice, they would stop at nothing.

I am not aware of the details of the negotiations with Goering that Guderian and Canaris had to enter into. In the end, they agreed that Goering was guaranteed immunity, and he also retained the post of Minister of Aviation, although real control passed into other hands.

I was offered the position of his personal adjutant. Formally, for an officer with the rank of Hauptmann and the position of squadron commander, this is a big career boost. In fact, I was offered to become both a spy and an overseer of the triumvirate under a man who was turning into a doll that did not decide anything. Such a role was categorically incompatible with my ideas about both noble and officer honor, not to mention the fact that it deprived me of the opportunity to return to flying work...”

For all his disappointment in his former idol, Frederick knew that when speaking about his desire to return to the front, the prince was not lying. Shortly before this, Wittgenstein’s commander had had great difficulty persuading him to take leave and go to Rastenburg to receive the award from the hands of the Fuhrer (also, obviously, “with mixed feelings”). The prince feared that during his absence two other famous pilots, Lent and Streib, could surpass him in the number of downed planes. However, obviously, Wittgenstein would have fully agreed to a staff position - and even counted on one, taking part in the conspiracy - but not under Goering, where from now on it was certainly impossible to gain any glory, but under someone who really determined the fate of Reich . And it was the absence of an appropriate proposal that became the root of his further grievances...

“Before talking about what happened next, I will note one more condition that this man set for the triumvirate: none of the triumvirs should have concentrated sole power in their hands. He was allowed to feel that he had defended this demand in a difficult struggle (having conceded on some other points), although in fact it corresponded to the initial agreements of the triumvirs, who agreed that it would be more convenient and easier for them to put a supporting figure in this place.

In this situation, Dietl also behaved smartly, or rather, cunningly. Realizing in time that, most likely, everyone would agree on the person who would appear last, he made a beautiful move - he left Berlin, returning to his snows. This was already the second flight he made, but not to Berlin, but from it.

On September 5, an official announcement was finally made about the death of the Fuhrer and another dozen and a half people from among the top officials of the state. The announcement of Goebbels's death was especially noticeable. The full list of victims of the September murders is still being debated. All I can say is that it must be a very long list.

On the fifth, Dietl committed that same famous..." - page ended.

The next page was not the 404th, but the 406th page.

“...I would prefer to go back to the front, where I can bring more real benefit to Reich and the people of Germany, rather than serving as a thread for a puppet.

After that, I expected anything - including the fact that Dietl would decide to destroy me. But I couldn’t even think that he would actually let me go back. After all, I knew deadly things. Instead, he said, “Okay, I respect your decision. You might understand that I cannot get rid of this fat hog now. This is politics. But if you are not ready to sacrifice personal ambitions for the sake of the interests of the common cause, I don’t dare detain you.” I think it was at this moment that I realized that he did not see himself as a “Hanswürst,” as Jodl called him, or a “temporary technical figure,” in Canaris’s somewhat more delicate expression - he was thinking about real power. And, of course, he himself is not going to give up any ambitions.

Many years later, looking back at the past, I think: perhaps I made a mistake by not agreeing to be a shadow figure in the ministry? In the end, Dietl himself managed - albeit at a huge cost, which I have already spoken about and will talk about later - by skillfully maneuvering between different forces, to subjugate the triumvirate and become the Reich President we know. For better or worse, my spine is too inflexible to stand in a crouched position for long periods of time.

But then, I must admit, I was furious. Participation in the conspiracy should bring victory or death, but not a return to the same place, in the same rank and position. I accepted it, but I didn't resign myself to it. Moreover, I hoped that after getting rid of Goering - which I naively expected for a long time - they would remember me.

Alas. It was Goering who became the fulcrum thanks to which Dietl was able to turn the situation around.

Of course, Edward Dietl fully shared the feelings that we all had for this man who betrayed our cause and the people who trusted him. However, there is a puppet on the throne - however, the throne still had to be created! - and the disgraced, but still not completely lost connections and influence, party leader found a common language. One wanted to gain supreme power, the other wanted to survive and regain at least part of its former influence.

Even when Dietl managed to pull off a scam with the Reich presidency, simultaneously annulling both Hitler’s will and the triumvirate’s decisions on collective leadership, he continued to cling to Goering. Only in 1945, after the signing of the Geneva Treaty, did he decide that he no longer needed the old traitor. However, even then he did not destroy him, although he finally took away his ministerial post.

I must say: the uncertainty that reigned as a result of the “semi-removal” of Goering - who formally continued to remain Reich Minister of Aviation - had the most fatal impact on our military operations. The absence of a legitimately operating principle, a deviation from the Fuehrer principle, even if partly justified by political considerations, inevitably leads...”

Vlasov changed the page - there was almost no time left for reading.

“Even Goering’s death in 1946 was accompanied by an official obituary of a very ambiguous nature, from which, if desired, one could read hints about the unhealthy lifestyle of the deceased. Party political information directly stated that Goering died from gluttony and drunkenness. Some talked about suicide due to alcoholism - and no one stopped these conversations.

Now I must say a few words about the policy of the triumvirs. They are usually given credit for their “brilliant” solution to the Eastern question. In fact, it was trivial: to stop Hitler’s radical policy towards the Russian population. I don't argue, it was a reasonable measure. Reliance on Russian anti-communist forces was also partly reasonable. However, the creation of Reichsraum and an independent - at least formally - Russia was another criminal mistake, because it contradicted the plans of history itself. The task of Germanization of the Slavic lands could only be solved by continuing the policy of the Teutonic Order, reasonably modified and adapted to new conditions...”

Friedrich closed the page with irritation: he had neither the time nor the desire to once again get acquainted with the presentation of the theoretical constructions of the Likhachev circle, and even those mixed with “Teutonic mysticism”.

This date turned out to be the last. Behind the scenes, obviously, there were a lot of interesting things - for example, the story of French captivity, the writing of “Tactics”, the circumstances of the move to Russia and everything that followed. However, apparently, this all seemed to the Yuda swindler to be harmless chatter, unable to interest buyers, and he did not scan it.

Well, it seems that Vlasov was right on time. It was getting light outside the windows. It was time to go to the bank.

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The anthem was created in 1791
Gavriil Derzhavin (lyrics) and Osip Kozlovsky (music) based on the polonaise.

Thunder of victory, ring out!
Have fun, brave Ross!
Decorate yourself with resounding glory.
You beat Mohammed!
Glory to this, Catherine!
Hail, mother tender to us!
The fast waters of the Danube
Already in our hands now;
Honoring the bravery of the Rosses,
The Taurus is below us and the Caucasus.
The hordes of Crimea cannot
Now to destroy our peace;
Selima's pride is lowered,
And he pales with the moon.
The groan of Sinai is heard,
Today in the sunflower everywhere,
Envy and enmity rage
And he is tormented within himself.
We rejoice in the sounds of glory,
So that enemies can see
That your hands are ready
We will stretch to the edge of the universe.
Look, wise queen!
Look, great wife!
What is Your glance, Your right hand
Our law, the soul is one.
Look at the glittering cathedrals,
Look at this beautiful system;
All hearts and eyes are with you
They are revived by one.

"Russian Prayer"
(1816-1833)

At the end of 1816, Alexander I issued a decree on the performance of this melody during the emperor’s meetings.
Used as an anthem (1816-1833).
Words by V. A. Zhukovsky, music by Henry Carey (“God Save the King,” 1743)

God save the Tsar!
The glorious one has long days
Give it to the earth!
Proud to the humbler:
Guardian of the weak,
Comforter of all -
Send everything down!
First-power
Orthodox Rus'
God Bless!
Her kingdom is harmonious,
Calm in strength, -
Everything is unworthy
Get away!
Oh providence
Blessing
It was sent down to us!
Striving for good
In happiness there is humility,
Patience in sorrow
Give it to the earth!

“God save the Tsar!”
(1833-1917)
National anthem of the Russian Empire (1833-1917).
Approved by decree of Nicholas the First of April 30 (May 12), 1834.
Words by V. A. Zhukovsky, music by A. F. Lvov.

God Save the Tsar
Strong, sovereign,
Reign with glory
To our glory!
Reign to the fear of your enemies,
Orthodox Tsar.
God save the King,
Save the Tsar!

"Working Marseillaise"
(1917)
Used as an anthem in the first months after the February Revolution.
Melody of the French anthem (La Marseillaise).
The text was published in the newspaper “Forward” on July 1, 1875 under the title “Workers’ Marseillaise.”
Words by P. L. Lavrov (this is not a translation from French), music by Claude Joseph Rouget de Lisle.

Let's renounce the old world,
Let's shake his ashes off our feet!
We don't need a golden idol
We hate the royal palace.
We will go to our suffering brothers,
We will go to the hungry people,
With it we will send curses to the villains -
We will call him to fight.
Chorus:
Rise up, rise up, working people!
Stand up to the enemy, hungry people!
Ring out, the cry of people's vengeance!
Forward, forward, forward, forward, forward!

International
(1918-1944)
“International” is the State Anthem of the RSFSR (1918-1943), and after the formation of the Soviet Union (1922), it also became the anthem of the USSR (1922-1943).
Approved by the Council of People's Commissars on January 10 (23), 1918.
Words by Eugene Potier (translation by A. Ya. Kots, 1902), music by Pierre Degeyter.

Arise, branded with a curse,
The whole world is hungry and slaves!
Our indignant mind is boiling
And ready to fight to the death.
We will destroy the whole world of violence
Down to the ground and then
We are ours, we will build a new world, -
He who was nothing will become everything.
Chorus:
This is our last
And a decisive battle;
With the International
The human race will rise!

Nobody will give us deliverance:
Neither god, nor king, nor hero.
We will achieve liberation
With my own hand.
To overthrow oppression with a skillful hand,
To win back your property, -
Blow the forge and strike boldly,
While the iron is hot!
Chorus.

USSR State Anthem
(1944-1991)
State anthem of the Soviet Union (1943-1956). Written in 1938 as “Anthem of the Bolshevik Party” (words by V. I. Lebedev-Kumach). In 1943, a new version of the words was written. Music by A. V. Alexandrov, lyrics by S. V. Mikhalkov, G. A. El-Registan performed by the choir
Approved on December 14, 1943 by a resolution of the Politburo of the Central Committee of the All-Union Communist Party of Bolsheviks. The new anthem was first performed on the night of January 1, 1944. Officially used since March 15, 1944.

Great Rus' united forever.


Chorus.

Friendship of peoples is a reliable stronghold!
Soviet banner, people's banner
Let it lead from victory to victory!

Stalin raised us to be loyal to the people,

We raised our army in battles.
Let's sweep the vile invaders out of the way!
In battles we decide the fate of generations,
We will lead our Fatherland to glory!

IN 1956-1977 the anthem was sung without words, because Stalin was mentioned in the previous text. But the old words of the anthem were not officially canceled, therefore, during foreign performances of Soviet athletes, the anthem with the old words was sometimes performed, for example, before the first meeting of the USSR-Canada Super Series (hockey) in 1972.

IN 1977 year Sergei Mikhalkov creates the second edition State Anthem of the USSR.
Music by A. V. Alexandrov, words by S. V. Mikhalkov, G. G. El-Registan.

The indestructible union of free republics
Great Rus' united forever.
Long live the one created by the will of the peoples
United, mighty Soviet Union!

Chorus:
Hail, our Fatherland is free,
Friendship of peoples is a reliable stronghold!
Lenin's Party - people's power
Leads us to the triumph of communism!

Through the storms the sun of freedom shone for us,
And the great Lenin illuminated the path for us:
He raised the peoples to a just cause,
Inspired us to work and to deeds!
Chorus.

In the victory of the immortal ideas of communism
We see the future of our country,
And the Red Banner of the Glorious Fatherland
We will always be selflessly faithful!
Chorus.

Patriotic song
(1990-2000)
State anthem of the RSFSR and the Russian Federation (1990-2000).
On November 5, 1990, the government of the RSFSR adopted a resolution on the creation of the state emblem, state flag and anthem of the RSFSR. The commission approved “Patriotic Song” by Mikhail Glinka as the music for the anthem.
Approved by a resolution of the Supreme Council of the RSFSR on November 23, 1990. The words of the anthem were never officially approved, although in 1990 one of the versions approved by the leadership was performed at a session of the Supreme Council.
Approved as the national anthem of the Russian Federation by decree (No. 2127) of Russian President B. N. Yeltsin on December 11, 1993.
Music by M. I. Glinka (arranged by Andrey Petrov).

National anthem of the Russian Federation
(from the year 2000)
The State Duma adopted the draft law “On the State Anthem of the Russian Federation” in the first reading on March 10, 1999, and on December 8, 2000 - in the third, final reading. On December 20, 2000, the law was approved by an overwhelming majority of votes by the Federation Council.
The bill was considered by the State Duma on March 7, 2001 and the text by S. V. Mikhalkov and G. A. El-Registan was adopted as the official anthem of the Russian Federation.
Approved text of the Russian anthem
Music by A. V. Alexandrov, lyrics by S. V. Mikhalkov and G. A. El-Registan

Russia is our sacred power,
Russia is our beloved country.
Mighty will, great glory -
Your treasure for all time!
Chorus:
Hail, our Fatherland is free,
An age-old union of fraternal peoples,
This is the folk wisdom given by our ancestors!
Hail, country! We are proud of you!

From the southern seas to the polar edge
Our forests and fields are spread out.
You are the only one in the world! You're the only one -
God-protected native land!
Chorus.

Wide scope for dreams and for life
The years to come reveal to us.
Our loyalty to the Fatherland gives us strength.
So it was, so it is and so it will always be!
Chorus.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

For comparison

The melody was written by Franz Joseph Haydn.
It was based on the old Austrian royal anthem, which was first performed on February 12 1797 (!) of the year. Words by August Heinrich Hoffmann von Fallersleben (1841).
The anthem was adopted in 1922 by the first President of the German Republic, Friedrich Ebert.

1.

über alles in der Welt,
wenn es stets zu Schutz und Trutze
brüderlich zusammenhält.
Von der Maas bis an die Memel,
von der Etsch bis an den Belt,
Deutschland, Deutschland über alles,
über alles in der Welt!

2.

deutscher Wein und deutscher Sang
sollen in der Welt behalten
ihren alten schönen Klang,
uns zu edler Tat begeistern
unser ganzes Leben lang. -
Deutsche Frauen, deutsche Treue,
deutscher Wein und deutscher Sang!

3.(Actually the modern national anthem of Germany)

für das deutsche Vaterland!
Danach lasst uns alle streben
brüderlich mit Herz und Hand!
Einigkeit und Recht und Freiheit
sind des Glückes Unterpfand;
blüh im Glanze dieses Glückes,
blühe, deutsches Vaterland.

1.

Above everything in the world
If it's for protection
Always stick together brotherly!
From the Meuse to the Neman,
From Adige to Belta.
Germany, Germany above all,
Above everything in the world!
2.

German wine and German songs
Must keep in peace
Your old good reputation
Throughout our lives, inspire us to nobility.
German women, German fidelity,
German wine and German songs!
3.
Unity and law and freedom
for the German Fatherland!
Let's all strive for this
brotherly, with heart and hand!
Unity and law and freedom -
The key to happiness.
Thrive in the splendor of this happiness,
Prosper, German Fatherland!

Modern rendition of the German anthem

Execution "Leibstandarte SS"

As they say, find the differences...

Deutschland, Deutschland über alles,
über alles in der Welt,
wenn es stets zu Schutz und Trutze
brüderlich zusammenhält.
Von der Maas bis an die Memel,
von der Etsch bis an den Belt,
|: Deutschland, Deutschland über alles,
über alles in der Welt! :|
2.
Deutsche Frauen, deutsche Treue,
deutscher Wein und deutscher Sang
sollen in der Welt behalten
ihren alten schönen Klang,
uns zu edler Tat begeistern
unser ganzes Leben lang. -
|: Deutsche Frauen, deutsche Treue,
deutscher Wein und deutscher Sang! :|
3. (Actually the modern national anthem of Germany)

für das deutsche Vaterland!
Danach lasst uns alle streben
brüderlich mit Herz und Hand!
Einigkeit und Recht und Freiheit
sind des Glückes Unterpfand;
|: blüh im Glanze dieses Glückes,
blühe, deutsches Vaterland.

Translation of the song German Anthem - Deutchland uber alles

above all else in the world,

if it's for protection

always sticks together like brothers!

From the Meuse to the Neman,

from Adige to Belta.

Germany, Germany, above all,

above all else in the world!

German wine and German songs,

must keep in peace

your old good reputation,

Throughout our lives, inspire us to nobility.

German women, German fidelity,

German wine and German songs!

Unity and law and freedom

for the German fatherland!

Let's all strive for this

brotherly, with heart and hand!

Unity and law and freedom

The key to happiness.

Thrive in the splendor of this happiness,

prosper the German fatherland!