The mystical fog. Russia

The story of an eyewitness:

Want to share what I had in my life. It happened in 1976. I then went to medical school in the city of Elabuga, Republic of Tatarstan. I was studying with girls from a neighboring village, and on Saturday we went to our village to parents.

Another autumn Saturday was extremely foggy and very thick, so that the buses between the cities that day and went out of the city every transport was prohibited, so as not to create emergencies. Yes, in those years, the administration still was concerned about the safety of its citizens! But us girls still managed to go on a passing car, which drove to watch the oilers. And we are with them that morning was probably the only one on the road.

We managed to drive to the village my friends and I from their villages to their still had to walk about 4 km on a dirt road through the field. I'm in the neighboring village was only a couple of times in my life, but I was sure that the road from there will lead me home. And the girl I was not easily frightened. Thought maybe the fog will dissipate by that time, and I really wanted to get to my mother.

I'm going, so on the road and I remember that this village is somewhere in the cemetery, and I thought, what if this road leads there? And I decided then to take a little bit to the right, then have a go on the field. Go, go, and the fog has not dissipated. Still go go and then began to be seen a little away from the right and left sides, the silhouettes of trees as shelterbelts. That they I didn't. Here on the left side of me thundered a single loud shot. "Hunters for the rabbits beat" - I thought and two minutes later the right side again a shot rang out, the audibility of the already much louder.

"They see these hunters in a fog, as if I was not by accident", I thought, and I felt like something scary from this situation.

I accelerate the steps and went out on some dirt road naezzhennuju machines. I've been walking down this road until they saw in the mist of lattice fences and trees again. I realized then that we are completely different side, in 5 km from their village and these cemetery fences. From the cemetery, where they bury their deceased four surrounding villages and the resting place of my father. Not to say that I was sick of it, no, I now at least knew which way to go. I got all the same home and never told anyone that before mom came to she was not afraid of me.

For accident years I think in thick fog I found myself in the civil war. I told my mother (she born 1912) that on the right side of the village were the whites, and the left red and they often exchanging fire. And then the whites drove the Reds and a lot of them killed. The people of our village were buried in a mass grave in the same field where I wandered in a fog.

Translated by «Yandex.Translator»