In Ivdel we met Vladimir Alekseevich Lyubimov, who was working as a radio operator at the time. At the end of 1958, Vladimir Alekseevich and his wife were sent to spend the winter close to Mount Yaruta which is 200 km north of the Dyatlov Pass. In the summer, geologists were looking for minerals at the foothills of Mt Yaruta and left several tons of explosives for the winter. Vladimir Alekseevich was supposed to guard this property until it got warm and report his activities by radio. And not long before that, a spy was exposed in the village of Saranpaul in the Subpolar Urals. He had a radio. And at night, leaving home supposedly for work, the spy passed on secret information to the enemy. His wife suspected treason and wrote about it to the party committee. His comrades began to monitor him for wrongdoing, and inadvertently exposed the spy.

- After that, - recalls Vladimir Alekseevich, - all of us, radio operators, were ordered to listen in on the air and report any suspicious conversations. And so, in January or February, it's hard to say, I was monitoring the air on different waves and heard some very strange conversations in an unintelligible Aesopian language. It was only clear that something terrible had happened. Of course, I reported it to my superiors. And a day later I received an order: stop listening on this wave! But I was curious, and I began to secretly continue listening. I remember what they said - we can't find two. We're looking for two more...

- Maybe they were talking about four? - we clarified, since the bodies of four were discovered only in May.

- Maybe, - he said, - that they were talking about four. It's hard to remember now... When I returned from wintering, I found the radio operator who had transmitted all this. It was my friend Egor Nevolin. I asked him to tell me the details. But Nevolin replied that he can't. Those were the times of secrecy. I think that the guys were exposed to some kind of poisonous gases. Other bodies were found with foam at the mouth, which indicates poisoning.

Wintering.

And, after about 30-40 minutes, I crossed the threshold of the winter quarters.
First, after "hello", I glanced around the patient. And he was sitting on a folding bed installed along the stove, and fingering a towel with blood stains.
"He won't make it on the sled. What should I do?" - a thought flashed through my mind.
I turn on the radio. They are waiting for us. The first question from the sub-base is "How is the patient?" I transmit the situation via the Vibroplex. Kitaev cannot work with such a speed. I receive instructions on how to move.
The mushers arrived. Having had a quick bite, they are getting ready to leave.
"Volodya!" - the eldest of them says, - "the deer is hungry, there is a lot of snow, he can't reach the moss, and the wolves are playing around here. Tomorrow early - early we go back"
I go up to the patient, calm him down, and he feels sorry for me that because of him I have to shorten the wintering.
We agreed that in the morning the wintering would be handed over. There are three of us at the wintering with Kitaev.
Two workers and the quartermaster (his wife). The workers refuse to stay.
What to do? An order is not a way out of the situation. After dinner I was out like a light. My sleep was heavy. I dozed off, then woke up. On the neighboring bunks my companion was moaning in his sleep. And although this was not her first time on an expedition, she had endured such a route for the first time. I was not mistaken in calling my companion "she". Yes, it was a woman - my wife. From tomorrow, the quartermaster of the wintering.
I wanted to smoke. Matches under the bunk with the clock. And it was as if someone had thrown me out of a bag. The time was 8.25. Communication at 8.00.
I switch on. They are waiting for me. They have an urgent radiogram
"Lyubimov - Kitaev.
A helicopter will fly out to you at sunrise. Kolevatyh"
At first it seemed that I was still asleep or was this a joke by the radio operator of the sub-base?
I jump outside in my underwear, and the sky is all in stars. And on the western side of the horizon, with its lower horn, the moon, as if caught on a ledge of rock.
I don't remember how long I stood by the door. I remember only one thing - I stood by the door and cried.
The second time in my adult life. I calmed down. I washed myself with snow. I enter and either mutter or mumble, "Guys, a helicopter is flying for us..."
I approach the patient, but he beat me to it, "No need, Volodya. I heard everything. My advice to you is, if you're going to do your rounds or go hunting, watch out for the weather. Especially the wind on the mountain."
I turn on the radio and transmit the actual weather. I receive the radio.
"Prepare the area. I won't be able to turn off. Do you need a stretcher? I'll take three. The patient accompanied by two. Rychik."
Answer, "No need for a stretcher. A difficult approach. We'll carry the patient on our backs. Lyubimov."
If Rychik is flying, the mission will be completed.
1046 Subbase. Departure.
1310 Wintering. Departure loading of feed.
14.30 The teams have left. One worker. Take clothes on the helicopter.
So: almost 7 months ahead among rocks and snow.
Good weather lasted more than a week. We have time to fulfill the legacy of the winterers who left. Ran to the place of workings twice.
Situation and weather.
In the subpolar Urals. The end of October 1958. On the slopes of Yaruta.
Snow mixed with scree. When descending, the snow cover increases very sharply. At the edge of the forest up to 2-2.5 meters. For the most partf Shchugor River is only 1-1.5 meters. In the valley where the wintering was located, up to 3 meters. The valley is quiet. On the slopes the wind knocks you off your feet. By the beginning of the calendar winter, the sky closed and heavy snowfalls began. The snowdrifts took all my strength. But who cares about that now?
End of February 1959.
While scanning the air, I noticed an unregistered working radio station in the 3800-4500 range. At that time, did I have the right to listen to the work of other correspondents? Yes, I did.
In 1947, I graduated from the Naval School of Special Purpose Communications, receiving the specialty of radio engineer and radio operator - internationalist. When serving in the Navy, I had clearance with the "SS" stamp.

When we went out into the field, I received instructions from the expedition's communications chief to monitor the airwaves. There were dozens of people like me so they gave us time schedule. Everyone knew their time when to transmit and the frequency. Not to the left or to the right.
I inform my communications chief (according to the instructions). On the second day came an order "Stop listening!"
But I was interested in the correspondents' negotiations - "Nothing new. We are searching."

I cannot give you the dates and time of the events, because these are my memories of years gone by. But I remember that day well. On that day, intensive negotiations were underway at stations unknown to me. They found two. There were reports of helicopters. And so - all daylight hours.
The radio was apparently on constantly. Radiograms that were transmitted from the scene, i.e. not only with the sender's signature, but also who transmitted and received it.
One of the radiograms had these two names - "Transmitted by Nevolin. Received by Temnikov"

Familiar radio operators of the Northern Expedition. Sasha Temnikov is the head of communications. So there is an emergency in the Northern. And here some negotiations helped me. The call sign was used - "Kayomka".
This was the call sign of the Ivdel airport. The next day I follow the dispatcher's communications - "Yes. The plane took off. It is on the "Landing" quadrant.
This is how I later find out the location of the crash.
The Northern Expedition does not work in these quadrants, which means the place of the aircrash (?) is in the mountains.
March is not winter, but not spring either. Sometimes the snow melts during the day, at night the frost reaches minus 25. The snow cover is covered with a crust - not on skis, not on foot. There is more than enough work in the winter quarters. At the end of March, my partner fell ill. Murphy's law - the mountains are closing.
All efforts to maintain the helicopter pad.
April 1 - I remember exactly. The helicopter with the party chief arrived.
While loading and unloading was in progress, Kitaev gave the order: In the area of ​​Mount Otorten, hikers - students died. What happened, no one knows yet, they suspect Mansi and escaped prisoners. The picture is terrible. Five were found, they say on the slope, they are looking for four more.
Volodya, your task is to go to the western slope and examine it, then cross the eastern. Report everything you notice!"
After completing the task, I sent a radiogram -
"I have carried out your instructions. Suggest that the idiots who came up with the criminal version change into prison clothes and go on the Vizhay-Ushma-Otorten route"
The searchers' radio transmitted - "Nothing found. We continue the search"
I already knew that dozens of people were looking for them. I knew that there was a girl among the missing.
Then I had a thought – are there hikers among the searchers?
I remembered the meeting of geologists with student tourists from Perm in August 1958.
A tractor S-100 left Tolya's sub-base along the river bed, at that time the ice was still holding, through the pass along the Mansi reindeer road.
On May 9, the first detachment of adit workers arrived, in the afternoon the management arrived at MI-4.
Two days later I handed over the wintering and by order was appointed simply a radio operator of party 2. Until September.
I tried several times to hear the "strangers", but they were silent. And I already knew everything from those who had arrived. Everything they could know.
This could have been the end of the description of the wintering of "Yarut" at the very source of the Shchugor River, if not for two incidents.

1. In June, around the 15th-17th, exactly at 05:36, an MI-1 helicopter appeared over Yaruta from the Verkhshugorsk meteorological station. From the approach to the landing pad, it was clear that the helicopter pilot was here for the first time.
I was the first to the helicopter. The passenger got out. We walked towards each other. He shows a red booklet - KGB Captain, Tyumen UGB.
(I didn't remember his full name)
Question - "Where can I see the radio operator?"
I answer - "I am the radio operator"
He asks to go to the radio. The questions are the simplest, but I notice that this is not why he came. Kitaev comes in. He introduces himself.
Captain Kitaev - "You sit here, and you, Vladimir Alekseevich, will come out with me."
On the street, a question - "Vladimir Alekseevich, from which direction did the fireballs fly and what do they look like?"
Answer - "Sorry, but apart from the moon and the northern lights, I didn't see anything."
Captain - "Are you sure you saw the natural moon?"
Answer - "I haven't seen any doubles. True, the sun can be double in severe frost."
Captain - "Well, I don't think you need to take a written undertaking."
Answer - "I don't think you need to. Comrade captain, I have a 25-year non-disclosure agreement and two "S" clearances.
Without saying goodbye to the party chief, the captain flew away.

2. During the working season there were 30-35 of us. Naturally, we needed a toilet. And it was installed 100-150 meters from the housing stock. An old shaft under a 4-person tent. Thinking that a helicopter would soon arrive, the former party chief lowered some barrels from the mine. Not from under fuel and lubricants, but very valuable ones - from under bulk materials and put them in the toilet.
Having received the news that due to bad weather I would arrive on reindeer, he took all measures in case of a blizzard. All utility tents were reinforced, and the rear blank walls had protection - "Snow wall".
Everything would have been fine, but before the new year of 1959, around noon, a front approached, a strong wind rose. A blizzard began.
We did not go outside for two days. On the third day, when I went outside, I didn't find the back part of the tent - the toilet. It took almost the whole day to clear it from snow. The entire back wall was lying on it. Having reinforced the walls and entered the tent, I was shocked. The barrels were lying there, but they weren't the same barrels. They were a pile of scrap metal. The new guy was surprised - "What did you do with them?"

Without bread.

This is what happened in mid-January 1959.
The work base on Yarut was built by experienced people for 2-3 years. Two living quarters - dugouts.
A Russian stove was installed in the common living dugout. We baked bread and pies in it. Shchugor River was called the "grayling aquarium" at that time.
The miners worked 12-15 hours a day, and they needed real food, not American canned goods and crackers.
The oven itself was made with a trick - the brick chimney was wide and extended about a meter above the roof. In case the dugout was blocked by snow, this chimney could serve as an emergency exit.
But that's not all. The foreman, who was also the deputy, chief G.G. Kitaev came up with it as a backup and inserted it into the brick chimney – a metal pipe so that in case of a complete collapse air would enter the dugout.
Nothing foreshadowed danger, but suddenly the dogs started howling.
Grabbing the gun, I rushed to the door – it opened inwards, but I couldn’t move the latch.
I listened to the roar of the wind, the pipe damper rattled.
We didn’t sleep until the morning. I reported what had happened to the sub-base. The howling in the chimney stopped, the dogs were silent.
In the morning I went out – a few bricks remained from the chimney. Such cases were not uncommon. This is how the north wind goes.

Zina.

"Here we are on the train. We sang a lot of songs. I wonder what awaits us on this trip, what will be new?"
Believe me, Zina, how I wish something would happen to the train, or that there would not be enough tickets for the Ivdel train in Serov. In the end, that no one would give you a lift, or take your backpacks.
It seems to me that only one night or one day was needed, and perhaps you did not get to Kholat Syakhl on that terrible night.
What happened? Who knows?
Your last stops, one can say one thing - nothing happened except for the incident with the police. It seems to me that the policeman simply chased you so that he could join your group, be among your laughter and songs, which very rarely happens in his "realm".
And then all of you, tired and happy with your life, are sitting by a hot fire, someone is plucking the strings of a mandolin, someone is singing, or maybe singing along to his famous "Brigantine"...
You guys don't know that this is your last evening, your last day.
Tired, but happy and joyful, you break out in the taiga, from the foothill undergrowth into the vastness of a mysterious pass. And there, not far away, your dream rises, Otorten, and you are sure that you will conquer it.
In your early twenties, you have seen many mountain peaks. Hundreds of kilometers of ski trails are left behind - straight and winding.
Dozens of fires burned under your songs and laughter. In thirty-degree frosts and small February thaws, you tasted the glory of student hiking.
Sorry, maybe this is not true, or maybe just a Mansi belief, but this time you challenged the mountain of the royal class, the mighty Otorten, father of the Pechora River and Vishera.
No, Otorten did not let you in, blocking the road with snow and a hurricane wind. And the Kholat Syakhl pass did not let you through, warning you with its constant wind.
But you went forward, hiding behind the slope, and after digging a snowdrift, you began to settle down for your last night.