"RUSSIAN FLIGHT" by M.H. MUBARAKA

Дата публикации: 16 июля 2025
Автор: Mikhail BOLTUNOV, Vasily KhORESHKO →
Публикатор: Научная библиотека Порталус
Рубрика: ВОЕННОЕ ДЕЛО →
Номер публикации: №1752619565 / Жалобы? Ошибка? Выделите проблемный текст и нажмите CTRL+ENTER!

The unknown trajectory of military destinies

It's hard to believe that not so long ago, Russia was not being criticized in the global community. The greatness of our country was undisputed. Russia's influence on everything and everyone on planet Earth was significant. This was discussed much more frequently than the current discussion about Russian vodka. In particular, we can be proud of the fact that thousands of foreign citizens received a high-quality education in the USSR. Our military education was particularly respected. Thanks to Soviet military science and pedagogy, many foreign officers acquired the necessary knowledge, combat training, and operational and tactical skills. Many foreign cadets and academy students later achieved high positions in their home countries.

There are "Russian pages" in the biography of such an outstanding statesman and politician of our time as Egyptian President Mohamed Hosni MUBARAK. Today, the magazine "Orientir" is making an attempt to reflect some aspects of this undeservedly forgotten history for the first time.

A year in the Soviet air regiment

There weren't many paradises in the Soviet Union - paradises in the sense of ideal weather conditions for flying. When it came to this, the valleys of Kyrgyzstan were always mentioned. The climate was mild, and the air was clean and transparent all year round, unlike in central Russia. In 1942, Frunze became home to the Odessa School of Pilots, which had relocated there. The famous 5th Central Training and Improvement Courses for Pilots were also located here. Former head of the flight training department, Colonel Vasily Fedorovich Shipilov, remembers how it all started:

- In 1957, the school was closed, and it was announced that cadets from capitalist countries would arrive the following year. No one cared whether the permanent staff and the base were ready for this mission. It was a government assignment, and that was that. The goals were both political and economic: the agreed-upon rate for an hour of flight was one thousand dollars. Of course, the training officers did not receive any of this money. We didn't think about any benefits; we just tried to teach them everything we knew.

The first trainees (from Afghanistan and Arab countries) already had diplomas from Western military colleges (French, English, and American). When they had the opportunity to compare, they gave us two polar assessments: "Your school is the best, but your comfort is terrible." They found it strange that we were used to barracks, public restrooms, and the absence of showers. Our arguments about improving international prestige (in terms of everyday life) did not sway the high-ranking officials. "Comrades officers," came the counterargument, "it is within your power to convince your charges that we not only fly, but also live well!"

The improvement of garrisons was much slower than the improvement of the material base. And even in the mid-1970s, it happened that a lecturer, entering an unheated classroom, saw the students... wearing hats with their ears down. At one time, a group of Africans, mastering the MiG-23 BM, spent the day at the airfield in Lugovaya, and at night they were taken... by a transport plane to Frunze. Later, more or less comfortable hotels were built on the territory of the 82nd Aviation School and in all the garrisons.

At first, foreigners were greeted by a not-so-joyful sight: a mud-brick wall around the military camp, prefabricated barracks, and a training building. At the airfield in the district center of Kant, newcomers were introduced to the skies by Czech-made L-29 training aircraft. Those who trained on the MiG-15 and subsequent types of jet fighters will never forget Lugovaya Station. The city of Tokmak (known for its medieval minaret) was home to a training regiment for bomber aviation. This runway has drawn a significant line in our hero's life.

His studies at the 82nd Military Aviation School began in the winter of 1959. He is listed as the second member of a group of 14 military personnel who arrived from the Syrian region of the United Arab Republic. The report is brief: "2) Major Mohamed Hosni el Said Mubarak, born in 1928, Egyptian, military education: Aviation Military College, previous position: Pilot." There is no doubt that he was the most influential member of the group. He was the oldest in terms of age, military rank, and life and combat experience. He had participated in the 1956 Arab-Israeli War. At the Soviet military academy, he was studying alongside captains, lieutenants, and green cadets. In ten months, they were required to master the skills of an Il-28 pilot.

Let us recall: Il-28 - the first Soviet front-line bomber with two VK-1 jet engines with a thrust of 2700 kgf each. The aircraft was created in 1948 by a group of designers led by S.V. Ilyushin. The flight range was 2400 km, the practical ceiling was 12,500 m, the bomb load was up to 3000 kg. The crew consisted of a pilot, a navigator and a gunner-radio operator. The speed at an altitude of 5,000 m reached 915 km/h. Excellent equipment allowed to perform tasks at any time of day in difficult weather conditions.

The Russian winged machine succumbed to the tenacious Egyptian. An eloquent testament to this is a document, a copy of which was kindly provided to us by a veteran. "Mohamed Hosni Said Mubarak was trained from February 16 to November 17, 1959. He received a qualification as a bomber pilot. He was prepared for instructor work during the day and night in simple weather conditions..." His only good grade was for bombing. And he received only "excellent" grades." - for all other subjects. These include flight practice, aircraft, engine, flight theory, and day and night navigation. "He has 55 hours and 04 minutes of flight experience on the Il-28 U, and 47 hours and 51 minutes of flight experience on the Il-28, including 17 hours and 00 minutes of night flight experience. "

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Lessons of Soviet aces

Retired Colonel Alexey Tikhonovich Kartashev, a personnel officer, helped us contact veterans of the Turkestan Military District Air Force. We were primarily interested in those who had personally known Major Mubarak. We then called Kiev, where retired Major General Pavel Trofimovich Ehtov lived. When asked to briefly introduce himself, he responded in a clear and concise manner. He had graduated from the Balashov and Omsk Military Aviation Schools. He had risen through the ranks from instructor to regiment commander. For 13 years, he was the head of the 5th Central Courses. He even flew in "supersonic" planes as a general, until recently. How did he, a senior lieutenant at the time, remember Mubarak?

- Strong-willed, tough - a military man through and through. A major, wing commander, he was an idol in his group. He could move any of his fellow tribesmen by reminding them of the high honor of representing an Arab state. In the mouth of the most worthy plenipotentiary, this sounded convincing.

Major Igor Gorsky, the commander of the flight, was assigned to him. He took him on a flight in an Il-28. I also had the opportunity to fly with Mubarak in a twin-engine aircraft. We communicated in English and used the English terminology commonly used in the aviation world. Mubarak was a "multi-skilled" professional pilot, as I had also flown in both fighter jets and helicopters by that time.

In short, you can tell a bird by its flight. We didn't have much trouble with this category, as they were classified as "Management Retraining." However, we faced challenges with those who required a comprehensive training program.

In addition, there were very specific difficulties. At the government level, they saw the training specialists only as a wealthy clientele, and therefore demanded appropriate behavior from the government contractors.

"We were instructed to feel like bugs in comparison with the 'dear' guests," says V.F. Shipilov, Ehtov's fellow soldier. "At first, it worked out: the lecturer was going on and on, but the gentlemen were lounging around, and some of them were even lazily smoking. No, guys, that's not going to work! No matter how much you're like a crown prince, you need to show respect for His Majesty the educational process!" We'll play by our own rules, or there's no point! And the first rule is that when a teacher enters the classroom, everyone stands up (regardless of whether they're officers, sergeants, or privates), and the duty officer reports as expected.

It is obvious that it is important to get used to the spirit of the country whose military equipment you are taking into service. In this sense, the instructors taught us to fly in Russian. They not only shared their piloting experience, but also instilled in us a love for the aircraft and a sense of responsibility for its proper operation. In other words, they instilled in us the traits of Soviet aces. After all, some of their students would get into the cockpit as if they were renting a winged machine: they would fly away and that would be the end of it. This required a special approach.

According to a long-standing tradition, after the first flight, the person who had been baptized by the sky would give a pack of Belomor cigarettes to their instructor, mechanic, and technician. This tradition was also adopted by foreign cadets. However, those who were more affluent would give a whole block of imported cigarettes. In addition, some of the "godparents" would receive a cheap but durable souvenir. Naturally, items that served as a kind of talisman were not suitable for gifts. For example, Major Mubarak had a comb with a relief image of President G.A. Nasser, which he never parted with.

We consider it our duty to mention other people who were involved in the development of the OAR's air fighters. Since 1955, Yakov Ivanovich Mikitchenko had been the head of the Frunze Air Force Academy, while also serving as the head of the aforementioned 5th Central Courses. In 1958, at the age of 45, he was promoted to the rank of Major General of Aviation. His deputy was Colonel Sashin. In 1959, the 322nd UAP was commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Nyunkin. The headquarters was headed by Major Ivan Fomich Pryalkin. A few names were provided to us by the surviving act on the results of the inspection of the working notebooks of the officers of the OAR in Tokmak. The conclusion of the commission (composed of Lieutenant Colonels Skryabin and Tolkachev, and Majors Katkov and Rodin) is of interest. The inspectors, having found no information beyond the scope of the training program, decided that there were no obstacles to exporting non-classified

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notebooks. Seven of them belonged to the listener Mubarak: on the plane - 2, on flight theory - 1, on navigation - 2, on the engine - 1 and on RTS - 1. Who knows, perhaps these notes of old years and not lost in the family archive of the president.

Now let's turn to the statistics. If the Central Courses started with the training of about a hundred specialists, then in the 1980s, more than two and a half thousand specialists were trained here. If in the 1950s, we worked with two or three countries, then 30 years later, more than fifty countries were eager to visit us. It was a factory that produced military professionals with various specializations. It was the forge of the golden fund of state cadres. According to conservative estimates, graduates of the courses hold leadership positions in 24 countries around the world. It's heartbreaking to think that all of this is a thing of the past. The planes and helicopters have been sold off, and the equipment from over 200 classrooms and laboratories has been dismantled. According to rumors, the once-brotherly republic has realized that it would be a good idea to revive the center. However, it's too late to realize that they have slaughtered the goose that laid the golden eggs.

Vasily Fedorovich Shipilov sincerely laments the criminal short-sightedness of statesmen. Everywhere you look, there are irretrievable losses - of jobs, scientific daring, and arms orders... And most importantly, of the country's authority. Those who received education from us, and a worthy education at that, became attached to Russia and passed on this sympathy to their relatives. However, we have forgotten how to cultivate friends and have only learned to create enemies.

Soar, falcons, soar like eagles!

For a good thirty years, there was a training center with its headquarters in Frunze. It was not easy to maintain the reputation of the Soviet Air Force school. The teachers and instructors had to work hard. They quickly realized that using translators was not the most effective approach. Instead, they developed a more advanced method. The students were encouraged to start with the basics, such as learning Russian, physics, and mathematics. Only after passing the exams in these subjects were they allowed to proceed to the main course. In the first year, newcomers studied theory and flew the L-29 (later the L-39), and in the following year, they learned to fly the MiG-17, MiG-21, or Il-28, and were then released as combat pilots. Helicopter pilots, on the other hand, first learned to fly the Mi-8 and then completed their training on the Mi-24. However, there was one exception: the entire group from Laos failed to complete the entire preparatory course. They had to go through the course again.

"We were worried when someone didn't do well. There were countless sleepless nights. There were plenty of dramatic moments," sighs Vasily Fedorovich Shipilov, who has seen it all. "It's hard to accept a tragic death. One Egyptian regiment commander, a veteran of the Arab-Israeli War, became arrogant, saying, 'Don't you think we're just greenhorns? I'll show you how to fly a MiG-21.'" Once he knocked over a barrel, and the second time... boom! His recklessness got him killed.

Here's a tragicomic episode. A dark-skinned pilot, I think from Zambia, took off on his own in a MiG-17. He didn't lose speed; the plane just swayed, and he immediately panicked, shouting, "I'm in a spin!" Naturally, the commander ordered him to eject. We immediately boarded a helicopter and headed to the crash site. A shepherd was tending a flock of sheep when he saw the pilot parachuting in the nearby steppe. "So he's alive!"", - we calmed down. "He's alive, but he's not doing well," the old Kyrgyz sympathized with us. "He must have been badly burned: black-black."

After each new batch of trainees arrived, the General Staff would send a reminder: this category required special approaches. The reminders were offensive, as the command and faculty of the school had years of experience and knew how to reach people's hearts. The trainees were diverse, not only in terms of their nationality and background, but also in terms of their qualities. As the Russian proverb says, "A bird doesn't fly with a single feather." One could only envy the trust that was established between teachers and students.

"The cadets came to us to pour out their hearts," V.F. Shipilov does not exaggerate. "And what feedback they left! We kept a notebook for each class, where the class leader and anyone who wanted to wrote their suggestions. We sent these reports to Moscow, but unfortunately, they were lost."

But the Russian alma mater and its best teachers were not forgotten. The cadets of the first graduating classes still had front-line veterans to talk to. They treated them with great respect, asking about their experiences and battles. They enjoyed heart-to-heart conversations with officers like Major Ivan Fomich Pryalkin, the Chief of Staff of the 322nd Training Aviation Regiment in Tokmak. Let us pay tribute to this remarkable man, who passed away in 1994. From his example, it is easy to understand how strong the regimental collective was, which accepted the Arab aviators into its family.

Ivan Fomich's biography is typical of the generation of Soviet citizens born in the 1920s. A boy from the village of Bobrovka, in the Smolensk region, before the war graduated from the Federal Law School. He worked at the Moscow Frunze factory and enthusiastically studied at the Lenin Aero Club of the capital. On September 10, 1941, he took the military oath at the Molotov Pilot School. Then - the active army. In August 1943, he underwent retraining and took to the controls of one of the best Il-2 attack aircraft. He fought against the Nazis in the 503rd Assault Aviation Regiment. Here is what is said about Junior Lieutenant I.F. Pryalkin in his combat record: "On November 6, 1943, after returning from a mission, he was ordered to

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"crashing into the enemy bomber formation, he joined the battle and shot down the U-87...he loves to fly, his piloting technique and orientation are excellent. The part of the aircraft, engine and armament is operated competently..." The order of the commander of the unit (G. Frunze) says about him: "I served in staff and teaching jobs for 16 years. I put a lot of effort and energy into improving combat readiness... He paid great attention to the training and upbringing of subordinates and military personnel of friendly countries." As stated in the certification (December 1960), " in two years, he delivered 801 hours of lectures and 26 hours of consultations to students." We spared no space for quotes to show what selfless workers selflessly raised the defenders of another's sky. Envoys from faraway lands were lucky to have Stalin's battle-hardened falcons as their mentors. How often do we think about how many foreign citizens (and entire states) gained wings thanks to the USSR? Perhaps even the front-line ace Pryalkin would find it difficult to name the number of foreign students at the Frunze Aviation School, the future heroes of the desert horizons. These are the peculiarities of the national military school: we don't tend to meticulously calculate our own achievements, but we shouldn't be so modest!

High and low do not coincide

Once upon a time, garrison life was in full swing in the capital of the Kirghiz Soviet Socialist Republic. The military, particularly the dandies in their uniforms with wings on their epaulettes, were the epitome of society. In the late 1950s, the southern city's vibrant atmosphere took on a new, exotic dimension. The streets were filled with immigrants from Asia, Africa, and the Middle East. Stately officers, some carrying canes, strolled through the city, leaving passersby in awe. They seemed to have sprung up from the old days, when we were just beginning to shape the army in a workers' and peasants' way. (By the way, we will have to encourage them to develop a sense of camaraderie in the military ranks in their native lands.) However, there were also plenty of foreigners of the most humble appearance. The local merchants and waiters quickly figured out who was worth what (from a mercantile perspective). Sometimes, military patrols that were called to restaurants were confronted with a mix of faces and races! They broke up fights between the sons of different nations who couldn't agree on Russian women. It's said that the first group of overseas visitors quickly realized that they shouldn't bring their wives with them, as it was easy to find a girlfriend. However, most of them didn't travel so far for that purpose.

Among the compatriots, there was a distinguished group of top-performing trainees who were eager to acquire as much knowledge and skills as possible. A notable example is the letter sent to the USSR General Staff by Major General N. Korra, Head of the Purchases Department of the Egyptian Armed Forces, on June 10, 1959. In this letter, Korra conveyed the request of the Egyptian Minister of War to train several trainees in the Il-28 program. The list included the following names: 1. Mohamed Hosni Mubarak. 2. Adnan Jabi. 3. Hassan Jazairy. 4. Zuhair Hanaui. 5. Sherif Badawi". The same five students at the 82nd Military Academy were already listed in our document sent to the head of the

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departments of Air Force universities. "I ask you to give additional instructor-methodical training. At the same time, it is allowed to extend the period of their training for 2 - 1.5 months. Signed by: Deputy Head of Department. Chief of the General Staff Department, Lieutenant General Bogdanovich."

By way of contrast, at the same time, the command of the 82nd Airborne Corps petitioned to remove four Iraqi officers from the school. "They have a negative attitude towards our country, openly express their unwillingness to learn, and refuse to fly." This 40-year-old report is notable for its frankness. It was undoubtedly written by individuals who were not accustomed to sugarcoating situations with flowery language. "Initially, the residents of Frunze welcomed the Arabs very warmly. However, we soon realized that these "friends" often treated them with arrogance and disdain, and engaged in immoral behavior. We need to improve our efforts among the Arab officers and strengthen the party and political apparatus of the 82nd Military Academy.

-We have such a habit: come on, come on, and you won't get help from above, - Reserve Colonel V. F. Shipilov is not inclined to embellish the past. - We had such powerful structures as the Main Political and Intelligence Departments. But no one deigned to enlighten us about the national characteristics of our contingent. At least what kind of brochure was sent. How do we, Tambov and Ryazan residents, know who eats what, who has what addictions? What should we do if we have one dining hall and seven different religions? Should we have seven cauldrons and ten cooks? At first, we struggled. Then we asked each group leader to create a list of national holidays and dishes, and to describe the restrictions on them. We found a solution!

Without a trace of humor, Vasily Fedorovich recounted how he had fired two young Russian language teachers. They had been caught in a restaurant, enjoying themselves with their students. Their excuses, such as studying conversational Russian in a relaxed environment and even (as in a comedy film!) carrying out a special assignment, were not accepted. The reputation of the school was paramount.

At the end of the summer of 1959, a representative delegation descended on the training center, accompanied by a senior officer of the Department of External Relations, Colonel I.E. Ryzhkov. UAR Ambassador El Quni, Air Force attache Colonel Said Sharabi and military attache Lieutenant Colonel El Tohami decided to get acquainted with the life and combat training of their compatriots on the spot. They were given the opportunity to visit classrooms, an officer's hotel, an air training ground, and talk with their army fellow citizens without outsiders. The honorary guests were very pleased with the training facility, but they were not impressed with the living conditions. Their suggestions focused on improving professionalism. For example, there were three groups of pilots with different levels of experience in the bomber training program. According to the official visitors, it would be beneficial to increase the average flight time from 60 to 70 hours, and for young pilots, it should be increased to 80 hours. The issues of training instructors in night flying, practicing piloting at extreme altitudes and bombing techniques in more difficult conditions, etc. were also raised. The military attachés expressed the concern of the Egyptian Air Force command that the new personnel would quickly lose their training acquired in Soviet squadrons. Maybe we should come up with a one-year retraining program together. "There are no such programs," the school principal said. "The best way to improve your skills is through regular practice flights. Don't take more than a month off, and you'll be fine."

Inevitably, a delicate topic was brought up. The visitors asked, "Why was Atef Amer reassigned? Was it because of his poor academic performance or his bad behavior?" Major General of Aviation Y.I. Mikitchenko responded candidly, "Atef Amer was the worst student. Instead of completing 60 to 70 flights with an instructor, he completed around 140 flights, but it was still dangerous to allow him to fly independently. He was an uneven flyer, mainly because he spent a lot of time and energy on girls. The school's efforts to make him a good pilot were in vain. However, his expulsion was primarily due to his immoral behavior. In front of a group of people, he was behaving rudely in a grove outside the city, and he threatened a police officer who was trying to separate him from his girlfriends.

At the end of the visit, Ambassador El Quni met with the course management and said: "You and your officers have been giving a lot of attention and effort to the Arab students, which is an invaluable contribution to our country's efforts to train highly skilled professionals. I would like to express my admiration and gratitude to you, the commanders, teachers, and instructors. I would also like to apologize for the behavior of some of the officers, which may have caused you some concern. However, I hope that you will view these incidents as instances of individual disobedience. The majority of officers respect the customs of your country. In our conversations with them, we have demanded that they follow the rules of conduct and strengthen their friendly relations with the local population.

In this regard, Colonel Said Sharabi spoke approvingly about excursions and evenings of meetings with young people. And at the same time, the senior group Major Safad (by the decision of the "triumvirate"that arrived) He was rushed back to Cairo. It was considered that he allegedly overdid it in holding evenings of Arab-Soviet friendship... In a short time, this friendship will be tempered in the fire, grow into a fighting brotherhood.

(The ending follows)

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Опубликовано 16 июля 2025 года