Royal night
The old-old cemetery lived out its mournful age next to the summer camp "Ogonyok". For a long time no one was buried on it - the cemetery church, where once the funeral service for the dead was once, cracked, lopsided. Wild pigeons now lived in it, their alarming googling on quiet summer evenings could be heard throughout the neighborhood. Often, out of the blue, sensitive pigeons were suddenly frightened of something. They roared noisily from their seats, flapped their wings with a loud whistle, shouted alarmedly - and, flying out through broken windows and gaps in the dome, rushed over the area for a long, long time. Their mournful voices rang out from above until darkness.
There was a village at the same distance from both the abandoned cemetery and the camp. The road from the camp to it went bypassing the forest, which significantly lengthened the path. So locals rarely visited Ogonyok.
This, however, the guys vacationing in the camp did not notice. They saw the villagers only sometimes - when they went swimming. The meetings were mostly peaceful, the water of the local pond and its shore did not have to be divided.
The path to this pond ran right through the cemetery. Of course, it was possible not to walk past the rickety monuments and rotten crosses, but to go around the old churchyard along the edge of the forest, but for some reason none of the vacationers did this. To cut the road and shorten the travel time, everyone walked through the cemetery. Not feeling the legs under them, the kids rushed along it, trying not to look around; also hastily, but every now and then, glancing sideways at the graves and anxiously looking around, older boys and girls passed by.
The cemetery was mesmerizing. On wet evenings, a white mist curled between the high cemetery birches and broad-footed fir trees. Twitching, he skirted the trees, sat on the rusty fences, shuddered gloomily, sinking to the graves overgrown with grass.
Many of the campers looked at him from above - from the mountain, from the windows of the second floor of the building, with its end facing the cemetery. But no one dared to go to the cemetery in the evening, and even more so at night. Go out, wander, shrouded in cemetery fog, look at the abandoned graves, stand, wait, listen ...
Or maybe there was simply no time for this - after all, the cheerful life in Ogonyok did not die down for a minute. Until nightfall, music thundered there, discos were held, games and competitions were held. Having played enough and walked up, everyone, young and old, got so tired that they fell straight down and fell asleep in a sweet dream, barely touching the bed. After all, in the morning new entertainment awaited them.
Even today, the camp was filled with lights, festively decorated, the music rushed from the speakers installed on the disco area and on the roof of the dining room, especially loud. Royal Night - the end of the second summer shift, that's what the population of Ogonyok celebrated!
Nobody ever sleeps on Royal Night! Many people sit patiently in the camp for the whole shift to have fun at the closing. After all, EVERYTHING was possible on the Royal Night !!!
It was almost dark, bright illumination lamps were burning on the street, here and there were trays of pies and soda, which were poured out to everyone by the catering department workers. Even the ice cream was not over yet - although some ate it so much that they could no longer move and partially scattered around their buildings and fell asleep, and some sat on benches and listlessly brushed off mosquitoes.
Ended holiday concert- they were preparing for it almost from the middle of the shift, - but the disco, which was usually closed at eleven o'clock in the evening, today promised to drag on well after midnight, and therefore they danced there with special enthusiasm.
With screams and hooting, the kids drove their educators around the camp. They ran as fast as they knew: if the little one catches them, they will certainly roll in the grass, smear them with toothpaste, cream from cakes and pastries, throw ice cream by the collar - in a word, they will scoff at glory. There were a lot of products for this, the fighting enthusiasm of the former wards of the unfortunate teacher was even more - so the poor adults were now running around like crazy.
The educator of the ninth squadron Nathan, for example, today out of despair climbed to the top of a dry pine tree without lower branches, which obeyed only one more person - a few years ago the same uncle, a physical education instructor, climbed on it. The one who had tortured him with his daily exercises and many kilometers of cross-country race for the prizes in the form of posters of rock singers who disliked him, the children drove for an especially long time. They divided into groups, and when one got tired of running with an ominous hooting after a harmful uncle, the other got down to business. So, in zigzags, the physical education instructor ran around the territory. Neither the headmaster of the camp, nor any of the teachers could save him - that was the law of the Royal Night. The physical education instructor asked the children to stop and not run after him, but thin children's voices commanded: “Forward! Cross! Health! Don't slow down! Don't change the rhythm! ”, And the race continued ... When the physical culture leader finally reached the last stage of fatigue, resentment and despair, a dry pine tree caught his eye. In the last powerful dash, breaking away from his pursuers, he screamed like a monkey and climbed to the top of the tree.
There he sat, changing the landing site from time to time - dry branches creaked, threatening to crack and break off, the wind swayed the pine tree ...
Rather, it was not the wind, but the children swaying the tree, trying to shake off the physical education leader from it. The pine survived, after a while the kids ran away to look for other entertainment ... And the sportsman sat on a pine tree until pink morning clouds. Only then, emboldened, he somehow got down - and already on the next change of spirit he was not in the "Ogonyok". They said that the tyrannical physical education instructor went to the guards, to accompany the concrete products that were transported from Siberia to the desert regions of the near abroad.
But no one in the camp was sad about it. He, a harmful tormentor, was driven out in revenge. And all the rest, in principle, beloved educators and educators, just like that, to maintain the tradition.
How long the unsportsmanlike Nathan was going to sit on the pine tree, no one could predict. Because they drove the teacher into a tree, but the kids were clearly not going to shoot him. In the meantime, help from the service staff arrives ... Sitting and howling at the big round moon that rose above the forest - nothing else was left for the uncle who jumped on the tree ...
It was no longer surprising for grown-up children. For the entire shift, they did not differ in special obedience, so they were no longer interested in taking revenge on their leaders, whom they had already done pretty well.
And even more so after one of them came up with a great idea.
“Guys,” Vovka, a boy from the fourth detachment, turned to his friends, “but poorly to go to the cemetery? Right now!
- So we were going to smear our girls with paste, - Mishka was surprised, throwing a tube of toothpaste in his palm. - I warm it in my pocket on purpose.
- We will have time to smear them, - answered Vovka. - Later. It's even better - while we are at the cemetery, while back, they will definitely go to sleep.
- So the disco has not even ended, - added Andryushka. - And all of us are at the disco.
- Disco, maybe the whole night will be, - said Vovka. - But not everyone will stay on it. I want to smear Nikiforov. I don’t think she’ll have enough dancing at the disco all night long. She will go to the side. Here I will paint it with patterns.
- And Petrushkina always leaves the disco early, it would also be good for Petrushkin to smear it specifically so that he doesn't dress up, - Mishka grinned.
- Let's smear it. But first - at the cemetery, - said Vovka. - It's time today.
- So for the territory you can't! .. - Andryushka scratched his head.
- Today is Royal Night, anything is possible! And run for the territory, and in general! - Vovka exclaimed. - So there will be nothing for us. They will not be expelled from the camp, they will not be sent home. The shift is over!
- Well, yes ... - the guys agreed.
- And what is there to do, in the cemetery? - asked Andryushka.
“Test your courage,” answered Vovka. - Just take it and go through the entire cemetery from start to finish.
- Oh, yes, this is any fool! .. - Mishka exclaimed.
And he stopped.
A strange howl came from somewhere.
- What is it? A? - Mishka muttered timidly.
“I don’t know,” Andryushka answered barely audibly. - It seems from the side of the cemetery ...
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Everyone will agree that some of the most vivid childhood memories are associated with the summer camp.
For some, the camp is a morning ruler with the formation and raising of a flag, a detachment song that will be remembered for a lifetime, an evening bonfire and an "eagle circle", or maybe waiting for parents on parental day. Someone will remember that it was in the camp that he learned to swim or play checkers. For some, the camp is the first kiss and "slows" at the disco, tears of parting with new friends and girls' notebooks filled with wishes.
The kaleidoscope of children's "camp" memories is diverse, but we can confidently say that everyone remembers the last, longest night - the night before departure, when it is customary to stay awake until dawn, say goodbye to friends and certainly make fun of each other. Now no one knows why this night was called "Royal". But almost all camps honor this tradition.
But the "Royal" night does not end there! Having returned from the fire to their rooms or tents, the guys are in no hurry to go to bed. They communicate and have fun, and the counselors do not interfere with this. The most banal entertainment - smearing sleepy comrades with toothpaste is already a thing of the past, but scaring someone by telling a terrible story or dressing up as a ghost is quite actual. In the stories about Royal Night, there is a place for tied laces on your favorite sneakers, and frogs laid in bed with girls, and various wardrobe items hung on trees, and many other original pranks.
But no matter how hard the guys tried to have fun, nevertheless, the last night before leaving is permeated with the sadness of parting!
In the children's camp "Island of Heroes", the Royal Night is held in a special way. This is because each shift in this adventure camp is a two-week game based on an exciting scenario, at the end of which the winning team is determined, who, in a fair fight, deserve the right to go to the Isle of Heroes. It is on the "Royal" night that the winners go to the mysterious island.
The "royal" night in each camp is a vivid memorable event filled with a variety of emotions. It has a place for fun and glee, for sadness and disappointment and, of course, for hope, hope that a new summer will come, and friends will meet again in their favorite camp!
Wellness complexes, sanatoriums and recreation centers on Black Sea coast, in the valleys in the middle of the Carpathians or in Vorzel near Kiev. The summer camp, where everyone and us were sent at least once in their lives, is new acquaintances, unprecedented adventures, first confessions and just a way to become an adult.
Remember how, returning home, we felt a little different people, because in 21 days away from our parents we gained so much experience that we could no longer be the old mama's sons and good-girls? Of course, for some, the camp became a serious test and not a weak exercise in social adaptation. But we are sure that now you remember those times with the same warmth and trepidation as we do.
Squad chants
And more chants, beeps, tweeters and whistles, which were invented on the first day, as soon as we divided into "crazy hedgehogs", "wild penguins" and "tough cucumbers". These distinctive quatrains had to be pronounced as amicably and louder as possible 10-15 times a day - before and after meals, at competitions, concerts and even discos.
"Heels together, socks apart!"
Probably, they wanted to raise us healthy and strong members of society. But at the age of 13, getting up at 7 in the morning was contrary to common sense and seemed nothing more than torture. For one truant, the entire detachment could be fined - deprived of some points or even not allowed to go to the disco. No matter how painful it was to wake up early in the morning, you still had to walk and turn the "mill" and imitate a swallow with everyone.
"Mom, I'm not hungry"
Every meal in the camp is a whole ritual. You couldn't just walk into the dining room and have a quiet meal. First, it was necessary to line up, report to the counselors that everyone was assembled, arrange a battle in the spirit of "whose squad has worked up the best appetite" and only then proceed to the meal. After breakfast, lunch and dinner, it was customary to shout: "Thank you to our chefs that they cook deliciously for us!" And it was really tasty. Remember navy pasta? And what about rubber pancakes with condensed milk? For some reason, neither my mother nor my grandmother ever succeeded.
Quiet hour
What sophistication we didn’t go to in order to save ourselves from the afternoon nap after dinner: to play a throw-in "fool", to arrange a pillow fight, to feast on the bedside tables we had stored up from home, or to stuff a dragon on the shoulder (temporary, of course ). The most courageous managed to escape to the territory of the camp, where they could indulge in forbidden forms of leisure - to meet the locals, smoke and drink low alcohol.
Shop 5 km from the camp
Even if he was on the other side of the world, we would still go there. No, not because five meals a day in the dining room was not enough for us. Well, how can soups and cereals with cutlets compare to the coveted pack of chips with crab flavor or khuba-booba chewing gum?
Revision of rooms
God forbid, someone's pillow will not stand as a "boat" or a wrapper from "Rachka" is lying on the bedside table - such blunders threatened with fines and additional checks. Who needed them? It was necessary to maintain cleanliness not only outside, but also under beds and in bedside tables - places for spoiled sandwiches, rotten apples and dirty socks.
"Gypsy Night"
This fun took place after midnight. Its essence is to get into someone else's room, find red things there and take them with you. The thing was returned to the owner only for a kiss.
Soak a day at the infirmary
The skill of simulating migraines and abdominal pains, honed at home (when we didn't want to go to school), we also applied in summer camps, especially when your friend is sick and is bored alone in the isolation ward. From the unpleasant - I had to drink potassium permanganate or even transfer the injection intramuscularly. But then you could not go to exercise and pass other activities all day.
Exchange of clothes
Then we were not snobs and did not bother with the fact that today everyone saw you in this top, and tomorrow one of your friends is embroidering in it. And although it was mostly girls who practiced this, the guys also did not hesitate to take jeans with a large cuff from a neighbor (like Timothy's) in order to sketch on the disk.
Discos
Everyone was waiting for the evening program with special excitement. Girls tested cosmetics borrowed from older girlfriends, and boys took dance lessons and practiced kissing on tomatoes. Timid delays, ridiculous kisses and sudden fights. For some, harmless dances in the assembly hall continued in secluded places where teenagers experienced their first sexual experience.
Campfire gatherings
At each shift there was a handsome counselor or a kid from the squad of starshaks who played the guitar and made all the girls suffer from the unrequited love. The luckiest ones managed to hang out with him and his company. It was they who taught you how to smoke without delay and introduced you to the work of "Spleen", "Bi-2" and "Night Snipers". For a snack, there was always a beloved "Lish won, little won, sidite sumna ...".
Night entertainment
After lights out, when the lights went out, a completely different life began in the camp. We told horror stories, summoned a swearing gnome, a king of diamonds and a queen of spades and overcame a path full of checkpoints with counselors to the next block to play strip cards with boys / girls.
Farewell evenings
There is nothing sadder in summer camp than breaking up. For three inseparable weeks, we managed not only to make friends, but to literally become relatives - brothers and sisters, sometimes even by blood. To consolidate this status, on the last evening we arranged an exchange of all sorts of trinkets, signed pictures and filled out questionnaires (these are homemade, in notebooks). The counselors kindled a fire pit as high as a three-story building, on which we roasted sausages.
"Royal Night"
No, no one was appointed as kings and queens. This was the name of the last night of the shift, when all the remaining toothpaste on the territory of the camp was smeared with the sleeping people. In order not to wake up the victims of the massacre, the paste was warmed up, and then painted with it on the face and body of a person.
A unique collective experience
Despite almost army discipline, we managed to jointly find loopholes and bypass strict rules. We practiced intelligence and developed together, thanks to which we became aware of ourselves as individuals. True, some still cannot close the gestalts of that time, but this is a completely different story.
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Well, everyone knows about the gypsy night and the lightning, but I personally had the experience of a conditionally successful escape.
The fact was that I lived in Ulan-Ude and as a matter of course I was sent to a sports camp on Lake Baikal for 3 weeks. They picked us up at 6:30 in the morning, forced us to run 3-4 km (I was 11 years old and I did not have good preparation from the word at all, plus I was shoved into senior group), then for some reason they put us on a split, arranged sparring sessions (the camp was with Taekwondo ITF) and many other things that were not very pleasant. In general, after a week of such mockery, I thought that I had to blame. Every morning while jogging for three days I was putting my things in a certain place(we ran outside the camp), collected sneakers, tweaks and two bottles of a liter mineral water, found one like-minded person, and somewhere in the middle of the second week at 2-3 o'clock in the morning I got out through the window, as we were closed for the night. Yes, and a plus point for a like-minded person, so I ran alone. Half an hour later, I packed my things and moved along the road towards the house, where, according to my calculations, I should have reached in 3-4 days. Well, my escape was conditional, because my like-minded counselor handed over all my plans of the path to the counselor and at 8 am on the track, a little ahead of me, a jeep stopped from which a face got out and so seriously asked, "Are you Puchkov Artem?" I nodded, the man got out of the car and, after giving me such a crappy slap on the head, put it in the car and all the time we drove back, he lectured me about how bad it is to do this and that I raised the whole camp on my ears.
It all ended well. Although there was a wild scandal that day, the next day my father took me and after a little scene in front of the counselors, he put me in the car and, of course, scolded me a little, said that he was proud of me. That instead of whining and enduring all this, I began to look for a solution and prepared myself perfectly, thought through almost everything. So that's the case.
Once we went with my brother to a camp, where they had boring discos every evening, and sometimes a "cinema", which no one went to, since all the films and cartoons were quite old. We decided to diversify the rest and came up with the idea of throwing slippers on the balconies: whoever gets to the 4th floor (the last one) won. We were also joined by guys from other squads. As a result, two out of 14 people were able to throw the unfortunate slippers onto the same balcony on the 4th floor. It turned out that this floor was closed, and until the counselors burned us down, we decided to climb up the window ledges ourselves and get our shoes. They climbed up, but they pulled us out of there only in the evening.
As a child, I did not go to camps, but it so happened that now I spend them myself :). And probably the most powerful joke that we (adults) had with children was "A Day without Adults".
The fact is that over the years we have developed a powerful child self-government. The guys from the team help in the preparation of the camp, then work in it as detachment commanders, and even the "Camp Commander" (elected every 3 days) is an experienced child.
And on one of the days at the end of the camp, I think in 2013, we decided to arrange a stress test for this self-government. Waking up at about 6 am, all the adult teachers and counselors packed up their backpacks and left the camp (the guards, the doctor and the cook stayed, we are not animals). We settled about a kilometer from the camp in the forest, set up tents, a fire, and began to prepare for the next day. And in the camp ...
The children woke up and saw "letters of happiness" in front of them. And an emergency phone. The letters contained brief instructions for the day, such as: "Dear Camp Commander! Now you know everything. We are gone. There is no need to look for us. We will return tomorrow. The keys to the Theater are under the pillow. The video camera is charging. The kayaks are not to be touched. The plan of the day. you know. All the best! Love, your instructors. "
And the camp went on as usual :). The children did not touch the kayaks, carried out the events prepared in advance, played in the theater, made films, went to the dining room, and so on and so forth ...
I must say that there were no incidents). And the alarm phone rang only 2 times per day. The first is to check that this is not a joke, and the second is when someone twisted his leg and the medic warned us about it (these are the rules).
I must say that the draw was quite a success). For dinner we returned to the base, marching through the camp territory in a solemn march. Children, feeling the burden of responsibility on themselves, were happy to see us :).
Well, as for the draws on a smaller scale - we have them every day. That lightning with a sudden rise of the entire camp on alarm. That role-playing with repainting all in different colors with face painting. That day of poetry with a residential building painted with verses. It's just a ball ... Irish style. That fire with guitars until the morning. The main thing is that it is interesting for both children and adults :).
I was in the camp only once, and it was a military sports camp in Divnomorsk. I finished the fifth or sixth grade, I was lured there with stories about how great it is to stand at the post with a gun, sing marching songs, run crosses in the morning and learn to shoot accurately, after which I was handed a ticket with a beautifully drawn young Budenovite.
On the first day I did not like the camp very much, because there were no songs and machine guns, but there were mesh beds, which they forced us to take to the houses in anticipation of the rest of the young military athletes. That evening we went to the escape.
We decided to spend the night by the river, near the fire in a hut made with our own hands in the bushes. But when it got dark, it turned out that it was too much to sleep by the river and we went home on foot twenty kilometers. At the same time, when the headlights of a rarely passing car appeared, we shouted "Cops!" they jumped into the nearest thickets of bushes, losing their slippers, although personally I did not feel anything criminal behind me, except for the occasionally broken bulbs from the slingshots. When I came home towards morning, my parents for some reason were not happy with the prodigal son and said that since I had not got a job at the post office to deliver telegrams in the summer, I shouldn’t wander around and that they would not tolerate a deserter in the house.
I, the only one of our four fugitives, had to return to the camp voluntarily. Life was already slowly boiling there, and I was surprised to find that I was the only one who got here twice voluntarily. The rest of the flow campers were difficult to educate throughout the Gelendzhik region, sent there by the police’s children's room for various flights. At first I honestly said that I had come voluntarily, they looked at me like an idiot and did not seem to believe me. Then I invented a criminal legend, according to which I am hoping and did not say such nonsense again. The acquaintances I got there turned out to be very useful in my later life. Although, for many of my acquaintances of that time, the word "camp" is now associated with a completely different institution.
So, my camp term began. Instead of detachments, as in other pioneer camps, we had platoons, which in turn were divided into squads. We didn't have pioneer leaders that girls fall in love with. Instead of them there were sergeants - ordinary post-army men who loved to drink and swear. However, there were no girls who could fall in love with them either - the camp contingent consisted exclusively of boys. I ended up in the second squad of the third platoon.
What seemed interesting and even romantic to me turned out to be quite different in the camp. Standing at the post with a wooden submachine gun, under a fungus at the entrance to the camp, alone, at night was boring, and sometimes even scary. Fortunately, it fell to my lot only once. Getting up early and running around the stadium was also not encouraging. The crowd ran past the washstand, leaving there those who were trying to smoke on the sly, then those prone to a bad habit were expelled from there with obscenities, kicks and sergeants on the back of the head. On the next lap, everything was repeated again.
Then breakfast, which was completely eaten. I don't really remember how tasty it was, but I wanted to eat very much and constantly. Then we were taken to work - to a garter of grapes. I did not become a leader, it sickened me since childhood, but I learned how to tie grapes. Daily norms were given, most, including me, did not even try to fulfill them, but there were also those who exceeded them. For example, a kid from Kabardinka, who was in my platoon. The head of the camp even called him on the line, declared gratitude and handed him a metal ruble with Lenin. I don't remember being jealous of this jerk.
After work there was lunch, then a quiet hour. After a quiet hour, one could go swimming in the sea or the river, play football and pioneerball. Sometimes they shot from a small car, ran in gas masks, disassembled and assembled a machine gun and did many other fascinating and useful things for the Motherland. And, of course, a daily lesson in a quiet hour is a pillow fight.
If someone says that pillow fight is fun and funny, I agree with him. But I'll clarify - a day or two. And then only when you win. And if eleven Kabardian Stakhanovites with hairy armpits fly into your quarters, where you four live, and the battle of the pillows smoothly flows into the destruction of the premises and the beating of those who did not have time to jump out the window, after a week it starts to get boring. This was terribly tiring, considering that I myself had not published a heroic article by that time. My genetic inheritance is such that I always looked younger than my age. This is for dad. Probably, this is good and gives hope for a late fading, but as a child, this did not please me. Until the tenth grade, I couldn't manage to grow at the same pace as my classmates. It’s now a meter eighty in me, and then I was not only the only one in the class who went to school from the age of six, but I was even less tall than the girls and was the last in the gym. But, during the battle, I never ran out of the window and honestly stood to the end. One day, while working in the vineyards, I remembered the upcoming daily battle with the first squad of our platoon. But, since I was still poorly versed in army terminology and was confused in the names of the units, I confused the words “squad” and “platoon”. It turned out that the first platoon was going to attack us - the guys older than us, living in another house. The message had an effect that I never expected. The platoon immediately forgot the old feuds between the squads and began to prepare for defense against an external enemy. The external enemy was not in the know and was very surprised at the warlike shouts and name-calling addressed to them from the territory of our platoon. A big war was brewing.
To my surprise, no one remembered where the rumor about the upcoming attack came from, the information was overgrown with new details and evidence and no one had any doubts. I was not going to convince someone and remind them of my role in unleashing the conflict. A quiet hour passed without the usual rout of our cockpit, in anticipation of external aggression. The enemy was clearly afraid, it was noticeable. Yes, this is understandable - in the first platoon the boys were a year or two older than us, and besides, there were more of them. I alone did not show any concern, which even aroused the respect of my comrades-in-arms. I even tried to put forward the idea that no one was going to attack, but it was rejected as defeatist and the platoon came to the opinion - they don't attack, that means they were chicken-headed. The end of the day passed under the insolent grins of my fellow soldiers and the bewilderment of the enemy about the obviously insolent youngsters. The next day, everything was repeated - preparation for the defense and the absence of an attack. This fact strengthened the defenders in the idea of the enemy's cowardice and added impudence. And only on the third day, which also passed in anxious but bloodless anticipation, did the elders from the first platoon not tolerate some next insolent demarche of my comrades-in-arms. Well, right at the evening movie session, one of ours broke his beautiful Greek nose. After which the global conflict was settled.
The next day, the quiet hour began with the traditional raid of the first squad into our crew quarters. The four of us held the door, nailed a hook on it, then the second - everything was useless. The invariable outcome was our bruising and smashing in the room. Life was back on track again. Once, putting things in order in the cockpit, wiping the blood from my lip and rubbing the bruised places, I suggested the next time to transfer hostilities to the territory of the aggressor, and for this to attack first. This is what we did. I was the first to break into the stunned enemy's camp, jumping over the beds and smashing my pillow left and right. However, in view of the numerical superiority of the enemy, the inconsistency of our actions, as well as the ordinary cowardice of my comrades in arms, who retreated, leaving me, I was seized by an adversary, crucified on the bed in the Savior's pose and cynically painted with watercolors in the style of “Vinitu - son of incuchun ". With all my respect for the art of body art and the Apache tribe, it was insulting and humiliating. I immediately went to seek support from senior comrades from my area, who, by the will of fate, were also here and in that very first platoon. The Greek profiles of my offenders, which began to heal, were again tweaked, instructed that it is not always wise to offend the younger ones, and relative peace reigned in our platoon.
Once I even got a real leave of absence for a day. I don’t remember for what reason and for what merits. Probably it was supposed to be. I was given a uniform, consisting of pants, a jacket and a cap, made from domestic jeans, as well as a letter of leave. A note is a document stating that I did not run away from the camp in this form again, but that I was on leave by right and must return back in time. Perhaps it was necessary to calm my parents. The family greeted the hero somehow coldly and I hardly remember my one-day vacation. But I remember how we, all denim, went on two excursions. The first was not far - near Novorossiysk, to the battery of Captain Zubkov. Guns are, of course, great. Only each of us had already been there at least five times before and knew each gun, probably better than the heroes of the Novorossiysk defense. But the second excursion was to Kerch. You had to go there by bus and then by ferry. I remember the Adzhimushkay catacombs and the shell turtle, which I bought for some reason. We have exactly the same turtles sold on every corner. But that was Crimea. Although it was not ours then, as it is now, it was still ours - Soviet and everyone wanted to visit it.
This was my first and so far the only visit to the glorious peninsula. And I never went to the pioneer camp again. Somehow I even managed to get away from the sports and labor camp, where the whole class went, I think after the eighth. From the rest of the camps, while God has mercy.
I spent in children's camps every summer from 8 to 17 years old. So there will be stories)
When I was 8, I went to an Orthodox children's camp for the first time. We lived in wooden one-story buildings, one per detachment. In each building there are two huge rooms - for boys and for girls, and each room had 8-10 beds. Opposite the building was a huge apple tree, one large branch of which bent strongly under its own weight and created a kind of "secret place", a gazebo made of branches. We (the girls) tore open and tore the mosquito net on the window and at night began to crawl out through it into the street, climbing into the gazebo and telling horror stories there. We were small and thin and easily climbed through, which adults could not think of for a long time. A few days later we were burnt by the boys who, out of envy, handed us over to the teachers. They put a new grid on us and covered our hikes, which is a pity) Such memories)
I have two older brothers, so my parents somehow managed to attach me to their detachments, and due to the fact that I was always several years younger than everyone else, there was a special attitude towards me, at the same time, many fun was not available to me, due to the fact the same factor. Each shift ended " royal night", after which everyone woke up with toothpaste all over their bodies, girls and boys staged almost every night raids into the opposite wings of the hull, stole clothes and hygiene items from the" enemy camp ", at night from time to time they gathered in secluded corners with lanterns, and while the counselors were resting, telling horror stories, calling the ladies of spades and learning to kiss.In one camp, the shift ended with a day of arbitrariness, when the camp turned into a city with its own money and all kinds of entertainment and ways to spend and earn it. foot massage, getting to another building on a stretcher, etc. Since I was the youngest in the shift, the chief counselor made me the queen of this day, and I was allowed to do and buy whatever I wanted. The day ended at a fire, around which they sang songs, recited poems and all sorts of stories.In one of the camps in Alushta, at night they ran away from the camp to swim in the sea at night, went to the local drive swelling. Almost all of my children's birthdays were held in camps, and when my parents came to congratulate, they prepared all kinds of gifts and gifts, since I celebrated it with the whole detachment, these were also feasts, because everyone was allowed to eat and drink on that day, everything that they brought parents, no restrictions. And probably not the most pleasant thing, it is that having quarreled with one boy, I got a scar on my forehead, because he pushed me into a 3-meter basement, though later I got it from the counselors and from my brothers. In short, it was a fun time, something like that.
There was a "career guidance day" in the children's camp. In fact, just each squad made its own "business" (someone arranged a post office, someone was a taxi, there were origami learning circles and much more), and the task was to collect the maximum amount of play money.
We had a circus tent or a leisure center. I had a deck of cards and a very strong desire to win ... I wondered.
First there was a line of 5 people. Then 20, then 40. In total, there were 220 people in the camp, and 170 passed through my "fortune-telling table". In general, for two days of this event I was busy to the eyeballs.
At the end of day 2, many of them ran out of play money and I agreed to take "gifts" and real money. Our room was provided with sweets for a week in advance :) And the early fascination with psychology and forensics is to blame for everything, and, well, a little - the ability to analyze. In general, it was cool!)
By the way, about gags and practical jokes. Milk chocolate under the covers, on a warm summer morning, invigorates more than toothpaste and causes a storm of emotions in the victim. She herself never joked or scoffed, but there were precedents in the environment)))
Nine years old, he found himself in a standard children's camp in the Ivanovo region. During sleep, one of the informal leaders of the detachment, the big boor G., persistently persuaded which small boy (not himself, judging by his face and behavior, good health) to do with him, excuse me, oral sex (in a passive position for the holy fool) for some small nishtyak like a day of undivided use of a portable set-top box. It was obvious to everyone that this was a joke, but the boy clearly prepared himself for a difficult and humiliating process, and not from motivation in the form of a toy, but from the despair and assertiveness of that freak.
There was a lot, and almost everything was on Royal Night. During the shift itself, I did not want to misbehave and ruin the life of the counselors, and in the last couple of hours - why not! ahah
Once the girls and I from the room turned a class plan: went to bed on time, without disturbing anyone and pretending that we knew nothing about the tradition of smearing with pasta. But we foresaw that the boys from the detachment would trample on us at night, put plastic cups on the door in such a way that when the door was opened, they all fell on those who entered. Of course, we were visited at night as scheduled. When the glasses tumbled down, everyone got scared and ran off to sleep. We, pretending that we were still sleeping, waited a while until everyone returned to sleep, and went to smear everyone ourselves. The whole squad got from us: D And, most importantly, no one even woke up (there were about 20 people)! And in order to completely confuse everyone, we smeared ourselves a little with paste, and no one thought that it was us)
This was the last, royal night at the camp by the lake, to which I went with my class. The camp was located in the forest, on the shore of the lake (I will hide the name). We lived in tents, got firewood, fire, in general, all the conditions for a "wild" life.
Unfortunately, the forest guard did not allow us to make a fire because of the strong wind, and therefore the whole camp was sitting in the dark. Someone danced on the playground, someone sat in their tent, and someone, like me, sat at the table and chatted with the class teacher Svetlana Ivanovna. Svetlana Ivanovna told us her stories from life, and we, her beloved and untrained children, listened to her. Suddenly Svetlana Ivanovna stopped her story and began to speak more quietly:
- Do you hear the howl in the forest?
“No,” I replied. Am I deaf? But really, no howling was heard.
“Listen,” Svetlana Ivanovna said even more quietly. I still didn't hear anything, but I pretended to be frightened.
- And who is it? - asked my classmate Nastya.
Monster. Inna Viktorovna told me that when she and Nadezhda Nikolaevna were looking for sticks in the forest, they heard howling. A monster stood before them. Inna Viktorovna said that he was dark, shaggy, his cheekbones were visible, his chin was slightly lowered and his eyes were small.
- Choi, or what? Daniel asked cheerfully. Svetlana Ivanovna looked at him wearily and continued her story.
- So, he walks through the tents. Therefore, be careful.
I looked frightened at the forest, crossed myself. Yes, I did it on purpose.
Towards midnight, everyone went to their tents. I lived in a tent with Marina. We decided not to sleep all night, because our classmates were supposed to smear pasta on us, so we read the news on VKontakte. This went on until one in the morning. Suddenly, not far from our tent, a branch broke. Marina and I did not pay attention, you never know. But when a shadow hung over our tent, which we simply felt, it was almost not visible, but someone's presence was felt. I was the first to break down:
- Guys, if you came to smear us with pasta, then go to bed.
In response, silence. But nobody left. And then howl. He was plaintive, like a wolf, but a little softer. Not a simple "oo-oo-oo", but something real that cannot be described in words. Marina turned off the phone and hid in a sleeping bag.
- Hey, where are you going? I asked.
- If you are so brave, sit and solve the problem. I'm afraid. I'm going to sleep.
And suddenly hands reached out to us through the walls of the tent. It was impossible to determine whose they were. We just huddled in the corner of the tent and shouted softly. By the way, I still don't understand how Marina managed to jump out of the bag in a second and move to the other end of the tent.
- Hey, hamadrills! Let's go! I shouted. And silence. Marina began to push me towards the "doors" of the tent. - What are you doing?
- Go check, - Marina said without emotion. I swallowed and pulled the lock. She carefully opened the zipper and looked out. There was no one on the street. - What is there?
“There’s no one there,” I replied, closing the tent.
- Exactly guys. Well, I'll arrange for them tomorrow.
“You heard, hamadrils, we’ll arrange something for you tomorrow,” I added.
And suddenly the voice of Svetlana Ivanovna:
“If you don’t fall asleep now, I’ll bring you such a hamadryl!”
You should have seen our faces with Marina. After that, we lay for another hour and thought that suddenly we said something wrong and tomorrow we will fly in from the class teacher.
