"Gromky" is a Grozny-class destroyer of the Second Pacific Squadron, which died heroically in the Battle of Tsushima. Enlisted in the list of shipsBaltic Fleet June 30, 1904, launched in the spring of 1904 , entered into service September 25, 1904 . Joined the “Catch-Up Squad”Captain 1st Rank L. F. Dobrotvorsky and on November 3, 1904 left Libau under the commandCaptain 2nd Rank G. K. Kern. February 1, 1905 as part of the detachment joined the main forcesSecond Pacific Squadron, becoming part of the 2nd squad of destroyers. During Battle of Tsushima May 14 stayed abeam of the cruiser"Oleg" , avoiding damage. In the evening I joined the cruiser"Vladimir Monomakh", together with which he repelled the attacks of Japanese destroyers. At night"Vladimir Monomakh"received a torpedo hit and lost combat effectiveness.

At about 5 o'clock in the morning the sinking battleship Sisoy the Great was spotted on the horizon. The commander of the Vladimir Monomakh, Popov, ordered the Gromky to follow the battleship, but the latter was already plunging into the water and the Loud was again sent to the damaged Monomakh. The cruiser commander ordered Gromky to break through to Vladivostok. At that moment, the Japanese destroyer Shiranui was spotted, rushing in pursuit of the Loud. At 8:35 (according to Japanese data), the “Loud” turned around and, gradually picking up speed, began to escape from pursuit. The Japanese destroyer was more armed than the Loud, but did not have an advantage in speed. After 2 hours of pursuit, the Gromky engine crew was completely exhausted: people had been on watch for about 20 hours, the stokers were fainting, and some began to have convulsions. Shiranui began to lag behind, but at 11:40 another Japanese destroyer (No. 63) appeared. The position of the "Gromky" became critical - about 40 tons of coal remained, while again it was necessary to speed up its progress and it risked being left completely without fuel after a short time. The ship's commander decided to attack the enemy with torpedoes, and the Loud, turning sharply, fired two torpedoes at the destroyer Shiranui. The first passed by, the second did not explode, hitting the side of the Japanese ship.At about 12 o'clock, Japanese shells disabled two of the Loud's boilers and the destroyer's speed dropped to 16 knots. Despite this, Loud's crew continued to fight desperately; the destroyer even replaced the flag that had been shot down in the battle. Soon the artillery magazines were flooded and of all the artillery, only two 47-mm guns were operational, finishing off the remaining ammunition on the deck. Japanese shells disabled all the boilers of the Russian destroyer. At 12:04 the last gun of the Gromky fell silent and the crew began firing back with rifles. Having given the command to “save as best as you can,” the destroyer commander, Captain 2nd Rank G.F. Kern, was immediately hit by an enemy shell. Ship mechanic V. V. Saks , despite being wounded and concussed, throughout the entire battle he organized the fight for survivability and ensured the progress of the ship. After the death of the ship's commander, he destroyed the secret codes and sank the cash drawer into the sea; together with his subordinates, he opened the kingstons in the engine room of the ship to flood it so that the destroyer would not fall to the enemy. During the battle, the destroyer had losses - 2 officers, 1 conductor and 20 sailors killed and 3 officers and 23 sailors wounded. At 12:43 "Gromky" sank, falling on the starboard side. The Japanese picked up the surviving people from the water.The destroyer Shiranui received more than 20 hits, and her flag was changed four times.

The model kit includes epoxy resin parts, photo-etched parts and assembly instructions. The model is assembled along the waterline or with a full hull. Please note that glue and paints are purchased separately.

First, a few words about the participants in those events. We will consider the combat path of the ships only until the autumn of 1943 - the time of the events described.

Transport "Marina Raskova": Built in 1919 as Salisbury for the Shawmut Steamship Co., she entered service in April 1919 and was accepted by the US Shipping Board (USSB) as Mystic. In the same year it was returned to the original shipowner and was in service until 1924, when it was sold to the shipowner United Ship & Commerce. Since 1930, under the name “Munmystic”, it belonged to the ship-owning company Munson Steamship Lines Inc., since 1937 as “Iberville” - Waterman Steamship Co. ). In 1941, she was taken over by the US War Shipping Administration (WSA) and renamed Ironclad.

The ship participated in and survived the infamous convoy PQ-17. Lieutenant Gradwell, commander of the paramilitary English transport Ayrshire, saved three transports - Troubadour, Silver Sword and Ironclyde, taking them into the ice fields. There they were repainted white and continued moving towards Novaya Zemlya, along the shore of which they reached their destination. If we talk about luck as an important element in the viability of a ship, then fortune was far from favorable to this ship. In the fall of 1942, twice leaving back to England with export cargo, the ship ran aground in various parts of the White Sea - first on the Molotov roadstead, and then near the mouth of the river. Ponoy. The emergency rescue service of the Northern Fleet took him off the rocks and brought him to Molotovsk. There the ship stood in a semi-submerged state for some time, drainage facilities worked around the clock, and only the chief mechanic and chief mate remained from the American crew. The renovation took more than six months. The steamer was drained, cleaned, and the rudder and sternpost frame were manufactured at plant No. 402 in Molotovsk.

At the end of March 1943, the ship was provided by the Americans to the Soviet side as part of Lend-Lease, after which it was transferred to the Northern State Shipping Company (NSMC) under a new name - “Marina Raskova”.

Project 7 destroyer "Gremyashchiy":"Thundering" was laid down on July 23, 1936 at plant No. 190 in Leningrad under serial number S-515. In 1939 he was enlisted in the Baltic Fleet. Soon after entering service, the "Thundering" together with the ship "Crushing" made the passage along the White Sea-Baltic Canal from Kronstadt to Polyarnoye. During the Soviet-Finnish War, Gremyashchiy was used as a patrol ship, carried out reconnaissance operations, and participated in convoying transport ships. From November 1940 to May 1941, the ship underwent warranty repairs and was in good technical condition by the time of the attack by Nazi Germany.
On March 2, 1943, the destroyer Gremyashchiy was awarded the Guards rank “for the courage shown in battles for the fatherland against the German invaders, for steadfastness and courage, for high military discipline and organization, for the unparalleled heroism of the personnel.”

In total, during the period from the beginning of the war to June 1, 1943, the Thundering One covered 27,043 miles in 1,921 running hours. During this time, he fired 9 times at coastal targets (4 times by bearing and distance and 5 times with adjustments from the shore), firing 1425 130-mm shells. The ship repelled 66 air attacks, expending 1,115 76-mm, 3,633 37-mm and several hundred 45-mm shells. During the two years of the war, he used anti-submarine weapons 6 times, dropping a total of 31 small and 30 large depth charges.

Project 7 destroyer "Gromky""Gromky" was laid down on April 29, 1936 in Leningrad at plant No. 190 (serial number 503), launched on December 6, 1937, entered service on December 31, 1938 and became part of the Baltic Fleet.
On May 19, 1939, it went to the North via the White Sea-Baltic Canal and on June 26, 1939, arrived in Polyarny and became part of the Northern Fleet. He also underwent combat training there and was undergoing repairs in Murmansk from November 1940 to June 8, 1941. In total, he traveled 14,302 miles before the start of the war.
Since the beginning of the war, the Eminian was engaged in laying defensive minefields and firing at enemy ground positions on the coast. Since March 1942, it was used mainly for escorting allied and domestic convoys.

In total, during the period from the beginning of the Great Patriotic War to January 1, 1943, “Gromky” made 33 trips, covering 9,700 miles in 719 running hours. Over the two years of the war (until July 1, 1943), it carried out 18 artillery shellings of enemy coastal positions (2,755 130-mm shells were fired), and the main caliber was used another 7 times when repelling air attacks (38 130-mm shells). During the same period, 680 76-mm, 520 45-mm, 1,084 37-mm shells and 1,531 12.7-mm cartridges were expended (excluding training firing). At the same time, Gromky has eight aircraft shot down: five Yu-88 and three Yu-87.

Let's move directly to the events of October 1943.
In October, the Barents Sea is rarely calm. Northern and northeastern winds every now and then break out into the ocean, raising a huge wave. The day becomes gloomy. Wave crests torn off by the wind freeze in mid-flight and cut your face with icy thorns.

Snowstorms often occur. They usually come in stripes, which is why they are called snow charges. It is difficult for a sailor in such weather. Visibility is reduced to zero, and the polar night begins to come into its own. The days become short, dull and more like evening twilight.
It was under these conditions that in the fall of 1943, the destroyers Gremyashchiy and Gromky were tasked with escorting the Marina Raskova transport to Novaya Zemlya. The transport was large - twelve thousand tons with a displacement, but it was valuable not only for its size. He carried cargo to the northern island bases and wintering polar explorers: food, ammunition, warm clothing, fuel, as well as tractors, airplanes and other equipment. In addition, the ship was carrying hundreds and a half passengers - new winterers and their families.

Navigation was closed. If the Marina Raskova fails to reach its destination, the polar explorers will be left without the most necessary things for the winter.

The “Thundering” was carried by its former commander, and now the division commander and senior convoy captain 2nd rank Gurin Anton Iosifovich.
On the way from the exit from the White Sea to Belushya Bay, the convoy was waylaid not only by floating mines and not only by six enemy submarines, marked by radio reconnaissance of the fleet, but also by the danger posed by the weather forecast given by meteorologists - a powerful cyclone was approaching.

At first the wind was weak. But after about three hours the weather forecast began to come true. Black clouds hung low over the sea. Fog hung over the waves. There was pitch darkness. Even the most eagle-eyed signalmen had difficulty distinguishing vehicles walking nearby.

Gurin decided to go to Iokanga to install additional fastenings and carry out additional ballasting to increase the survivability and stability of the ships. Cast iron ingots were loaded into free ballast tanks and cemented there. This ensured more reliable stability of ships on the wave.

This work took about a day, after which the convoy left for its destination, despite the storm.

The convoy commander’s fears were quite understandable - it was in the same 11-point storm on November 20, 1942 that the destroyer “Sokrushitelny,” a partner of “Gremyashchiy” and “Gromky” in many operations, perished in the Barents Sea. Its hull could not stand it and broke in half on the wave. After an unsuccessful rescue operation, the destroyer sank.

It is worth noting that both the “Thundering” and especially the “Loud” had the sad experience of sailing in severe storm conditions.

After the convoy left the Svyatonossky Gulf into the open sea, the storm broke out with renewed vigor. Huge waves crashed across the decks of the ships. Soon the wind turned into a hurricane. The shock of the waves brought the destroyers on board up to 53 degrees according to the inclinometer, that is, the roll was at the limit of the ships' stability. Tightly lashed objects inside the premises were torn off. The roar of the storm and the blows of the waves could not drown out the incessant creaking of the hulls. The hulls of the destroyers bent on the wave, the tops of the masts came together and then diverged, threatening to break off the antennas. The ships lost speed and stopped obeying the rudder. Until midnight the convoy was moving towards the North-East at low speed.

Only 150 miles remained to the convoy's destination when disaster struck. Around midnight, the Gromky signalman reported that the transport had changed course and was heading towards the destroyer. As soon as the ship avoided the meeting, a report from the foreman of the “Gremyashchy” signalmen, Nikolai Fokeev, came from the other side that the ship had changed course again and was already heading towards the “Gromky”.

Gurin asked for the transport captain. The answer came alarmingly. The ship's steering is out of order and there is no way to fix it: the rudder has been knocked off by a wave. Attempts to control transport using cars in such a storm led to nothing. The helpless steamer became a huge metal box, driven by the will of the wind and waves.
Often the waves reached such a height that transport completely disappeared into the gaps between them. From time to time, fog would creep in and snow charges would roll in, separating the guard ships and the damaged steamer. All this could be fraught with irreparable consequences that threatened to disrupt the supply of Novaya Zemlya.

The situation was reported to the fleet commander by radiogram. This was the only radiogram during the entire campaign (the operation of the radio could attract submarines). We received the answer: “Continue the operation.”

Gurin decided to take the transport in tow, fully understanding the difficulty of towing a helpless steamer. For safety, we decided to resort to a method not provided for in maritime textbooks. The “thundering” one will approach the stern of the transport with its nose and will hand over a tug. After this, the Marina Raskova will set sail, and the destroyer will move the stern of the transport either to the right or to the left to keep it on course.

But until the morning there was nothing to think about rescue operations; it was important not to lose sight of the transport.

It was a cloudy day, the morning light barely breaking through the black, ragged clouds rushing over the sea. Gurin announced his decision: the crew of the Gremyashchiy should prepare to tow the Marina Raskova, and the Gromky should provide cover to prevent a torpedo attack by enemy submarines and a collision of the convoy with floating mines.
The hurricane continued to batter the ships. The wind force reached eleven to twelve points. The tops of the waves, cut by the wind, turned into solid foam. In front of the ships there were shafts of such height that the Thundering One did not have time to climb to the top of them, and they collapsed on him.
The hull and upper deck disappeared into the swirling currents. Waves continuously rolled over the ship, flooding the ventilation devices. The roar of the storm drowned out all sounds of movement, even the frantic idle rotation of the propellers, which now and then hung in the air, as soon as the ship buried its stem in the sea.

There was no talking allowed on the bridge. In the noise of the hurricane, people could not hear each other; they had to shout directly in their ears. Continuous nervous tension exhausted people. The helmsmen changed every hour. But no matter how hard it was for the top watch, it was even harder in the engine and boiler rooms. Here the heat was added to the pitching, since all the rooms were tightly closed, as required by the combat schedule. The drivers had already been working without a shift for several shifts, and it was not possible to change them: you cannot walk along the upper deck in such a wave without the risk of being washed overboard.

At the emergency signal, the sailors of the Thundering One went to the upper deck. On the forecastle, the subordinates of the boatswain Rechkin, the bow gunners and other sailors were preparing a heavy steel cable. The waves crashed down on the people and threatened to wash them away. But the sailors worked, supporting each other. The work was supervised by assistant commander Vasiliev and naval gunner Gavrilov.

It was not possible to immediately approach the transport. The ship was rapidly thrown towards the transport. They maneuvered for a long time before they managed to throw the throwing end over.

Finally the tow rope was supplied and secured. The transport started moving. "Thundering" helped him to set course. They walked like this for about forty miles. They took incredible effort. The transport did not want to obey, and the destroyer could barely control itself on waves as high as mountains. The ship was constantly going off course.

The coming dawn did not bring anything good. The hurricane was raging. Progress was slowing down. Gurin decided to take a risk and change the type of towing.

Once again the sailors climbed to the upper deck. Now they work on the poop, on the aft part. It's even more difficult for them here. The forecastle, where the sailors were suffering with the cables yesterday, is raised high above the water. Not every wave reached here. On Utah it's a different matter. Here the deck is low and the waves roll over it freely. People get overwhelmed at times. Assistant commander lieutenant captain A. M. Vasilyev, chief boatswain P. V. Rechkin, sailors N. Afonin, M. Tsurikov, A. Kavunev are pulling apart and placing steel and hemp cables on the bollards. Sailors from all combat units of the ship who had been relieved from their watch arrived to them. Water still floods the deck, knocking people off their feet, its currents drag them towards the stern, into the breakers from the propellers.

(An eloquent description of the poor seaworthiness of the “Seven” destroyers:
when buried in the wave, the ship was completely covered by a cloud of spray.)

The sailors have to tie themselves with ropes so as not to accidentally end up overboard. And when the waves subside, the sailors rise to their feet, shake off the water, and get down to business. But things are moving slowly. The wave scatters and confuses the cables. Choking, numb from the cold in wet clothes, the sailors again and again unravel the steel ropes and lay them on the deck.

The most difficult thing in such a situation is to apply a tow rope to the vehicle. Gurin ordered the commander of the Thundering, Captain 3rd Rank Nikolaev, to maneuver the ship so that its stern was next to the stem of the steamer. The risk was great. A vehicle that lost control under the blows of the waves could fall onto the side of the ship, which was also thrown to the sides.

Carefully, the Thundering One approaches the bow of the transport with its stern. If the commander makes the slightest miscalculation during maneuvering, the Thundering One will be thrown at the transport, smashing the stern, breaking the propellers and rudder. The destroyer operates its engines back and forth. The drivers needed to make thousands of stroke changes to keep the ship at a given distance.

Hours, not minutes, passed before the maneuver was successful. It took a long eight hours to transfer the tow rope to the transport. But then the “Rattling” slowly moved in reverse towards the vehicle at a short distance. The cable was secured to the bollard. The destroyer made a small move forward. The steamer slowly, as if reluctantly, turned onto the set course. But at that moment another ninth wave attacked the destroyer and rolled it aside. On the poop, the sailors did not have time to give up any slack; zigzags of blue fire ran along the cable with a crash, and it snapped like a thin thread.

The maneuver was repeated. And again there was failure: the cable burst, just like the first one, with the only difference being that a piece of it fell on the propellers of the Thundering One. I had to stop the move.
All this time, while the sailors of the “Thundering” were doing their difficult job, the “Gromky” was on guard and also did its job: it shot a floating mine discovered by the signalmen among the foamed sea, and drove the enemy submarine away from the convoy. "Loud" walked around the convoy in an increasing spiral and threw depth charges, driving the boat to depth.

It was necessary to start all over again. There were no more suitable cables on the Gremyashchy. They asked for the transport captain. He replied that there were cables on the ship, but they were in the hold. The captain was asked to mobilize not only crew members, but also all passengers, regardless of gender, for emergency work. Negotiations dragged on for semaphore. To act with flags in such pitching, the signalman needs to possess the art of a tightrope walker. While one of the signalmen was “writing” with flags, the other was supporting him so that his comrade would not fall off the bridge. In order to get the cable, the Marina Raskova team, in conditions of an 11-12 point storm, had to manually, with the help of passengers, move the tractor standing on the hatch of the hold.

Finally they started the tug - a six-inch steel cable. Now, to better guarantee its safety, they used an anchor chain and a transport anchor. They were thrown overboard along with the tow rope, so that by sagging they would soften the jerks with their weight. On the "Gremyashchy" they reinforced the end of the cable with their own, looped it around the pedestal of the fourth gun, since the nearest bollards were already turned out of their places.

The towing has begun. With great difficulty we managed to turn the transport onto the desired course. He stubbornly did not want to go straight, he scoured first one way and then the other and pulled behind him the stern of the destroyer, which seemed very small in comparison with him.

Then someone expressed an idea: what if “Gromky” is connected by a tug to the stern of the transport and thus serves as its rudder? I liked the offer. The signal searchlight called out "Loud", which was still rushing around the caravan, dropping depth charges. It was much easier for the “Loud” to approach the stern of the transport, since the ship now had a forward motion and was less tossed around on the wave.

As a result of the concerted efforts of the destroyer and transport teams, the stern tug was launched. The speed of movement increased after that. Having such a “rudder” as a ship, the transport lay on a given course. Now something else was worrying: ships and transport, connected in one “chain,” lost freedom of maneuver and became an excellent target for submarines.
(Sequence of options for towing the Marina Raskova by the destroyers Gremyashchiy and Gromky:
1. First, the tug was moved from the bow of the destroyer Gremyashchiy to the stern of the transport. “Marina Raskova” was moving under its own power, and the destroyer was drifting the stern of the transport now to the right, now to the left, keeping it on course. They walked like this for about forty miles.
2. However, the transport did not want to obey the new “steering wheel” and constantly went off course. Gurin decided to change the type of towing. The tug was transferred from the stern of the destroyer Gremyashchiy to the bow of Marina Raskova. With great difficulty, we managed to turn the vehicle onto the desired course and begin towing.
3. But even with this option, the transport stubbornly did not want to go straight; it scoured first one way and then the other and pulled the stern of the destroyer behind it. Then “Gromky” was connected by a tug to the stern of the transport and thus served as its rudder. The speed of movement increased after that. Having such a “rudder” as a ship, the transport lay on a given course.)

But there was nothing to do. This was the only way to confidently tow a vehicle on a huge wave. The engines of the "Thundering" now had to support the movement of three ships. Based on the rotation speed of the propellers, the destroyer was supposed to move at a speed of 12 knots, but in fact, it could barely squeeze out two or three knots.

People are exhausted. For two days now the crews had not received hot food: in conditions of terrible motion it was impossible to cook it. By some miracle, they managed to change the shift in the engine and boiler rooms, giving the completely exhausted drivers the opportunity to rest.

But new challenges awaited the caravan. There were still a good hundred miles to the base, and the fuel on the Thundering One was running low. Oil pumps increasingly captured air instead of fuel oil, and then the nozzles in the boilers went out. To avoid this, all the fuel was collected in two tanks, and the rest were filled with sea water, hoping to reduce the ship's rolling.

Suddenly, the destroyer Gromky gave up its towing lines and moved quickly, as far as the wave allowed, to the side, often hiding behind the crests of the waves. Explosions of depth charges thundered over the sea. It turns out that the crew for the second time discovered in such a whirlwind the periscope of a fascist submarine, which was launching an attack on the transport.

"Gromky" bombed the detection area with depth charges and not only did not give the enemy the opportunity to fire torpedoes, but also forced him to abandon pursuit of the convoy. Having been bombed, the destroyer again took its place in the marching order. True, several more times he broke away from the convoy and hunted for other Nazi submarines.
This was the same “wolf pack” that the fleet commander warned about before going to sea. This means that the enemy knew about the convoy and was waiting for it.

(On the bridge of the destroyer "Gremyashchy". The ship's commander Nikolaev (at the direction finder), signalman Krivoschekov and signalman.)

On the fourth day, the caravan finally moved forward so much that the low shores of Novaya Zemlya became visible to the naked eye. The wind gradually died down. The waves also became smaller under the protection of the shore and no longer rolled over the ship.

On the fifth day of the voyage (instead of 50 - 60 hours under normal conditions), the destroyers and the transport they saved were pulled into the narrow gates of Belushya Bay. The journey is over!

The command's task was completed. The ships were in the roadstead, and it seemed that they were resting after hard work. The destroyers withstood a load that perhaps even their creators did not think about. There was a feast on the ships. For the first time in four days, hot food was prepared. The commanders ordered the distribution of vodka as required. The officers dined with the sailors. We remembered the difficulties of the campaign and admired the heroism of those who worked on the upper deck during the storm, winding the towing lines.

The next morning the ships set out on their return journey. They had to hurry: a new combat mission awaited them at the base.
A day and a half later, the destroyers Gremyashchy and Gromky arrived in Arkhangelsk. In Solombala, the fleet commander, Admiral Golovko, was the first to meet the ships. He congratulated the teams on their success and thanked them for their exemplary performance of the most difficult task.

On November 9, the headquarters of the Northern Fleet received a message that the steamship Marina Raskova, having delivered its cargo to its destination in Belushaya Bay, had returned safely to Arkhangelsk.

Destroyer "Gromky", length about 100 m, width - 10 m, lies on the left side, traverse of the village of Myskhako, ground depth - 44 m, minimum depth of the object 38 m. Access to the interior is difficult due to narrow and silted passages, The propellers, pipes, bow superstructure are clearly visible, the stem is bent as a result of hitting the ground. Laid down at the Nevsky Shipbuilding and Mechanical Plant in St. Petersburg. Re-mortgaged at the Nikolaev Admiralty (Nikolaev). Completed in Nikolaev.
Displacement: 1110 tons, length 100 m, beam: 100 m, draft: 3.41 m.
Mechanism power: 24,500 hp, maximum speed 34 knots, economic speed - 21 knots.
Armament (as of 1916): three 102 mm guns, two 47 mm anti-aircraft guns, four 7.62 mm machine guns, five x 2 457 mm torpedo tubes, 80 min. The destroyer's crew is 111 people.

On April 25, 1918, the German command presented the Soviet government with an ultimatum to surrender the Black Sea Fleet. On April 29, 1918, the destroyer, along with other ships, left Sevastopol for Novorossiysk to avoid capture by the Kaiser's troops.
On May 28, 1918, a secret directive was received, signed by V.I. Lenin, on the need to destroy the ships of the Black Sea Fleet.
On June 17, 1918, the destroyer Gromky was scuttled by its crew near Myskhako. At point 44°37"N 37°49"E at a depth of 36-42 m. In 1947, during demining of Tsemes Bay, "Gromky" was discovered and examined by the Emergency Rescue Service of the Black Sea Fleet, but due to severe corrosion of the hull, superstructures and mechanisms was left on the ground.
The ship lies on the left side, half submerged in the mud. When flooded, it hit the bottom with its bow, so the bow (stem) was folded to starboard. Now the destroyer is one of the most notable sunken objects in Novorossiysk Bay.

The creation of the People's Commissariat of the shipbuilding industry was a completely new matter: the USSR became the first country in the world in which all shipbuilding was united into a single industry. It could be expected that organizing and establishing the smooth functioning of the new People's Commissariat would require a lot of time. But it turned out the other way around. Most workers were left with the impression that the People's Commissariat began working literally the next day after the decree was issued. After the creation of the People's Commissariat, Ivan Fedorovich began to strengthen the leading factory and design personnel.

Tevosyan was at the head of Soviet shipbuilding for a relatively short time - only about three years. But the experience of these years convinced him that a close, careful attitude towards personnel is the main link in the chain that leads to the success of the entire business, which he never tired of talking about throughout his life.

Speaking at a meeting of the party and economic activists of the People's Commissariat of Ferrous Metallurgy in June 1940, the newly appointed People's Commissar Tevosyan said:

“Now I will focus on the most important issue - personnel selection. This question answers all other questions: why do we have weak technical leadership, why were we not provided with raw materials, why were logistics poorly organized. The issue of personnel was on the fence. We must select loyal, honest and knowledgeable people for all areas. If a person does not know the business, he will not be able to cope with it; it is necessary to select such shop managers, deputies, foremen, and plant directors who know the technology of blast furnace, open-hearth and rolling. Unfortunately, this was not the case. There was no other. Over the years, tens of thousands of young specialists have been promoted to production at various sites. This is correct, but these new personnel must be led, seriously helped, and taught. Unfortunately, the matter boiled down to the fact that people were constantly being displaced and moved around... We have thousands of engineers at our factories, excellent workers who have advanced over the years, who will undoubtedly go far ahead in the field of mastering technology. They need to be known, promoted, raised, shown to the whole country..."

And Ivan Fedorovich himself demonstrated examples of such an attitude towards qualified specialists more than once during the years when he headed the Soviet shipbuilding industry.

“The next question is the style of technical leadership,” Tevosyan said at the same meeting of the party and economic activists of the People’s Commissariat of Ferrous Metallurgy. - ... It seems to me that the plants did not receive technical assistance from the main board, the People's Commissariat, because the chief engineer, the main board engineer were loaded with turnover, wrote a lot of papers, but forgot their child - the plant ... Managerial employees went to the plant without chief engineers, without specialists - blast furnace workers, open-hearth furnaces, rollers. They took technical staff with them to write papers... You can, of course, come to the plant, walk around the plant, create a tail for yourself - plant director, chief engineer, party committee. I talked to the director, I talked to the party committee, I talked to two or three Stakhanovites, I held a meeting at which I made a speech. The management consists of coming to the plant with people who know the business, and sending these people in advance so that they can also “dig deeper”, check the specific situation in individual areas, and find out the reasons for the shortcomings. Then the deputy head of the main department, the head of the main board and the deputy people's commissar arrive. They get involved in the work of this team, they are told about everything in detail, and then they begin to look shop by shop. The central apparatus must be rebuilt so that its workers feel that they are dealing with the front, where military operations are taking place ... "

Behind these words, firmly and confidently spoken to the metallurgists by their new People's Commissar, was Tevosyan's significant experience at the head of the shipbuilding industry. It was here that Ivan Fedorovich became convinced that it was not enough to find knowledgeable and intelligent specialists. It is not enough to promote them to leadership positions. It is also necessary to educate them, mobilize all their abilities, accustom them to efficiency, to the readiness to delve into the very essence of emerging problems and take responsibility for their decisions. And here, as in any education, showing is a hundred times stronger and more convincing than telling. And Tevosyan never tired of showing his employees by his personal example how to act in a given case.

Every time he appeared on a ship being delivered, he got acquainted with the delivery crew, questioned the workers, trying to find out if they had any grievances or complaints. In general, the delivery teams had no particular reason to complain: in our country, unlike many capitalist countries, the delivery teams received free food on the same basis as military sailors; there were always barrels of kvass and sauerkraut on the deck of the ship, as a remedy against motion sickness. But sometimes there were still complaints about food, provision of special clothing and wages, and Ivan Fedorovich wrote down all this in detail. Upon returning to shore, he immediately began calling various organizations, demanding that they sort it out, eliminate the injustices and report to him about the culprits. After such telephone conversations, he did not miss the opportunity to tell his employees: “If you promised anything to the workers or other plant employees, then you must fulfill it, without putting it off either for the near future or for the long term. Only then will you be respected not only as a leader, but also as a person.”

One of Ivan Fedorovich’s most valuable and amazing qualities was his rare ability to ignite and inspire a person to solve some puzzling technical problem.

When tests of the first Soviet-built destroyer revealed strange melting of the main thrust bearings, the designer who designed the installation, instead of going to the ship to examine the damage and find the causes of the melting, suggested a different course of action. Reporting to the People's Commissar about what he was going to do, he proposed developing a new bearing design and even said that he had already begun making new drawings. This practical, non-engineering approach deeply outraged Tevosyan.

A new marriage can always be made,” he said angrily, “only there must be good reasons for this.” It is necessary to establish the cause of unsatisfactory bearing performance. How can you start designing a new bearing when you haven't even been in the engine room or seen a melted bearing? Go to the ship immediately, go down to the engine room, inspect the disassembled bearing and report to me your thoughts and suggestions tomorrow morning. I am convinced that the cause of the accident was a mistake you made in the drawings!

And in the end, the People's Commissar's opinion was confirmed: a gross error was discovered in the bearing drawing.

Tevosyan was also outraged by the custom of some leaders to shift blame onto others, to cover up their own inactivity and laziness of mind with angry attacks and denunciations of counterparties. Tevosyan considered this custom to be the most dangerous phenomenon in shipbuilding, where the cost of contractor deliveries sometimes exceeds the cost of the shipbuilding work itself. And he nipped such attempts, as they say, in the bud and in the most merciless way.

If Tevosyan’s first “shipbuilding” act is considered to be the creation of the People’s Commissariat of the shipbuilding industry and the selection of personnel for its apparatus, then the second most important act should be considered the development and approval of testing programs and delivery of ships to the customer. In fact, before the organization of the People's Commissariat of Defense Industry in 1937, there were no established norms and procedures for the preparation and approval of test programs. Test programs were drawn up only for ship affairs, that is, they included mooring tests of mechanisms and equipment, factory sea trials, which tested the operation of the main mechanical installation in long-term running conditions, as well as speed, maneuverability, torpedo and artillery weapons. Various customer organizations developed their own programs without coordination with the shipbuilders, which led to an inordinate delay in testing.

Although representatives of the Navy participated in all these tests and inspections, they did not make final decisions, postponing the resolution of all issues until state tests. And it turned out that in practice the ships were accepted by state acceptance committees, whose temporary members could not be held responsible for the quality of acceptance. The military representatives who were members of the state commissions also did not bear personal responsibility for the quality of acceptance, since they also took part in their work from time to time. All this created a certain arbitrariness in relations between the shipbuilding industry and customers. Military representatives and commissions often demanded additional regimes and tests, which created vagueness and uncertainty in the labor intensity of construction and the delivery time of ships.

Tevosyan was faced with the fact that military representatives presented demands to factories that were not provided for in technical projects approved by the government, immediately after his appointment to the post of head of the Main Shipbuilding Directorate of the NKOP. During his first visit to the ships being built at one of the factories, he noticed the extremely expensive finishing of the wardrooms and other premises. Thus, at the request of military acceptance, the walls of the wardrooms of new destroyers were finished with inlaid panels made of valuable wood based on the fairy tales of A. S. Pushkin. Walking around the ships under construction, Ivan Fedorovich noticed that in the living quarters, electrical cables, wires and pipelines were embedded under the skin. Having gathered designers and military representatives, he pointed out to them the excesses in the decoration of the premises, eliminated valuable types of wood and ordered them to switch to external wiring of cables and pipelines. “Of course, external wiring is not very attractive,” he said, “but it is convenient in combat conditions when it is necessary to quickly detect damage and fix it.”

When the military representatives began to object to these changes, arguing that we are the customers, and shipbuilders should do what we demand, Ivan Fedorovich answered them quite sharply: “The customer is not you, but the state! You are the same clerks of the state as we are, but only in a different area.”

Later, having learned that due to additional requirements, the Kirov cruiser traveled 7,500 miles during state tests and completely exhausted the service life of the auxiliary diesel generators, so they had to be replaced with new ones, Tevosyan forbade the responsible commissioners to accept additional test programs without his personal permission. But he, of course, understood that the decision of the Deputy People's Commissar of Industry - the supplier - was one thing, and the decision of the Navy - the customer - was another matter. It is clear that the final word must remain with the customer. Arriving from Leningrad to Moscow, he made attempts to coordinate his instructions to the delivery men with the People's Commissariat of the Navy.

The matter got off the ground after Admiral N.G. Kuznetsov, a seasoned sailor who headed the Soviet Naval Forces during the Great Patriotic War, was appointed first deputy people's commissar of the NKVMF. Tevosyan went to Kuznetsov, and they quickly agreed on all issues of construction, delivery, testing and acceptance of ships. A procedure was established for the development of testing programs and the responsibilities of contractors and acceptors, as well as a procedure for considering requirements that go beyond the specification. The leaders of industry and the navy decided that the acceptance of ships for reliability in long-term conditions is carried out by military representatives, while state acceptance commissions check and accept ships only according to tactical and technical characteristics and therefore do not carry out long-term conditions. These decisions streamlined the relationship between deliverers and receivers, clearly delineated the level of responsibility and ultimately contributed to improving the quality of ships.

The initiative of Tevosyan and Kuznetsov was supported by the government. In 1940, when Ivan Fedorovich was already the People's Commissar of the shipbuilding industry, he, together with a representative of the Navy, was summoned to the Council of Ministers of the USSR for a detailed report on the state of development and delivery of ships. Based on this report, a regulation was developed that legitimized the procedure established by Kuznetsov and Tevosyan, and also specified standards for engine resource consumption during testing and time standards for factory and state tests. In addition, the government awarded bonuses to commissioning teams for high-quality testing and reduction of time.

Since that time, combined testing programs have become widely used in our shipbuilding, when maneuverability, agility, controllability and even firing are tested at full speed for a long time. In accordance with this provision, specially appointed commissions developed unified test programs, including all specialties and all ship equipment, and these programs were approved by the Main Directorate of Shipbuilding of the Navy and the People's Commissariat of the Shipbuilding Industry. The order established by this decision brought complete clarity to the relationship between customers and suppliers, contributed to improving the quality of ships and, in general terms, has been preserved to this day.

In the fall of 1939, Nazi Germany proposed that the Soviet Union, in development of the non-aggression pact, conclude a trade agreement: in exchange for certain types of raw materials and food, the Germans offered to supply us with the latest industrial equipment and introduce us to the latest military equipment, including naval equipment. The Soviet government expressed interest in this proposal, but set its own conditions. Before concluding a trade agreement, the Soviet side must make sure that they are willing to sell it truly modern equipment, and not some old stuff. Therefore, the Soviet Union, as an indispensable condition for concluding a trade agreement, demanded that our specialists be able to travel to Germany and get acquainted on the spot with the machines and equipment offered for sale. When, after reading the reports of seconded specialists, the Soviet side is convinced that they are truly offering the latest designs, they are ready to begin concluding a trade agreement.

The Germans accepted this condition. And in November 1939, a large economic delegation, consisting of ninety major Soviet specialists - shipbuilders, aircraft manufacturers, instrument technicians, and armed forces personnel, left for Germany. The delegation was headed by People's Commissar of the Shipbuilding Industry I. F. Tevosyan...

It was difficult to find a more successful leader of such a delegation than Ivan Fedorovich. This was his third trip to Germany - in 1929 he trained at the Krupna factories in Essen, and in 1931, on behalf of the People's Commissar of Heavy Industry G. Ordzhonikidze, he traveled to Germany to find and invite major specialists in the production of high-quality steels to the USSR. Thanks to these trips, Tevosyan knew German industry very well, spoke German fluently and was personally acquainted with many figures in German industry.

Nevertheless, Ivan Fedorovich was fully imbued with the importance and complexity of the state mandate entrusted to him. If in his previous visits Germany was a defeated power and in many ways infringed on its rights, now a fascist regime has been established in it, which has already unleashed a new war in Europe and took a short respite before new campaigns of conquest. If in previous trips Tevosyan acted as a respectful student who came “for science” to the masters, now he headed a large delegation that was supposed to give a qualified and objective assessment of the level of the vaunted German military equipment, which had already made many European countries tremble. At the same time, Tevosyan understood that the Germans agreed to receive the delegation not of their own free will, but under the pressure of an urgent need for raw materials and food, and that they would make every effort to reduce inspection programs. Therefore, in order to successfully complete the government task, the head of the delegation in his behavior had to combine firmness in defending his demands with high diplomatic tact. In the negotiations it was impossible to allow the slightest infringement on the dignity and interests of the Soviet Union and at the same time not to give the slightest reason for any political provocations.

Throughout the delegation’s stay in Germany, Ivan Fedorovich vigilantly ensured that the fundamental demands of the Soviet side were strictly observed. When the fascist rear admiral, who received Soviet shipbuilders, heard the list of ships and problems that our specialists wanted to get acquainted with, he sharply declared:

There is a war going on. We have little time, so we can give your entire delegation no more than two or three days to inspect the German ships.

Upon learning of this, Tevosyan firmly insisted that Soviet demands be met: the delegation was divided by specialty and was given two weeks for examinations. Ivan Fedorovich himself behaved with the highest fascist officials with great dignity and did not miss an opportunity to put them in a puddle. Demonstrating to the Soviet delegation their difficulties with food, the Germans went too far. One day, during a sparse dinner in a dimly lit hotel restaurant, one of the members of the delegation approached Tevosyan, who was sitting in the center of the room with officials of the German Foreign Ministry, and said:

Ivan Fedorovich! You can’t work with this kind of feeding; you need more high-calorie food!

Tevosyan, without changing his face, turned to the German representative and said harshly:

If the German side cannot provide the delegation with normal food, I will send a telegram to Moscow, and food will be delivered here by plane tomorrow.

The German jumped up as if stung and quickly left the hall. A few minutes later he returned and loudly announced that the delegation would now be served a real dinner. The issue of feeding the delegation was finally resolved, and the demonstration of food difficulties was over.

The culmination of the inspections, according to the German side, was to be the entry of the Soviet delegation to sea on the newest heavy cruiser Admiral Hipper. Wanting to increase the value of this demonstration in the eyes of the head of the Soviet delegation, the fascist admiral began to tell Tevosyan that the Hipper’s entry into the sea was fraught with great dangers, since a meeting with English ships was possible. But Ivan Fedorovich could not be frightened by such tales: he made fun of the admiral, asking him, they say, is the German fleet really so weak that it is afraid of meeting an English ship every time it goes to sea?

In the middle of the day, the Germans asked the entire delegation to go on deck to show them a demonstration of firing blank charges simultaneously from guns of all calibers. Their intention - to make a stunning impression on the delegation - was obvious. But, despite the fire and roar, despite the screams of the hefty gunners, who, while firing from anti-aircraft guns, loudly rehearsed commands and for some reason shouted “Heil Hitler” before each shot, Tevosyan did not hide the circumstances that the owners tried to hide. The cruiser never developed full speed, and there were sentries standing near the hatches to the engine and boiler rooms: the Germans did not want to show the guests serious problems in the operation of the machines.

One day, when all the travel around Germany had ended and the entire delegation had gathered in Berlin, Ivan Fedorovich gathered the shipbuilders and announced unexpected news: the Germans were offering the Soviet Union to buy two unfinished cruisers of the Admiral Hipper class. The head of the delegation wanted to know the opinion of shipbuilders on the advisability of purchasing these ships. After long discussions, the majority of participants were inclined to believe that it was not advisable to buy cruisers, mainly due to dependence on the supply of spare parts and ammunition from Germany. With this decision, Tevosyan went to Moscow.

He returned two days later in a bad mood: Moscow did not agree with his opinion. He was told that if the Germans were selling two cruisers, they had to be bought. If the Germans sell us their entire fleet, then we must buy it too. If they offer to sell all their weapons, then we must buy them too. What we buy today will not fight against us tomorrow. No matter how much money we pay for cruisers, their destruction in battle will cost us much more.

The German side was immediately informed that the Soviet Union was ready to buy both cruisers, but the Germans suddenly balked and declared that they had changed their minds about selling the cruisers. After lengthy negotiations, an agreement was reached on the sale of the Lützow alone, and the Germans undertook to complete its construction in the Soviet Union. They, of course, did not fulfill this obligation, and the cruiser, called Petropavlovsk, was never put into operation until the beginning of the Great Patriotic War. Nevertheless, it was used in combat as a floating battery and caused a lot of trouble for the fascist warriors who approached the walls of Leningrad. On September 17, 1941, they managed to inflict such heavy shocks on the cruiser that it sank and sat on the ground, but the Leningrad shipbuilders managed to seal the holes and take the ship away literally from under the enemy’s nose. After repairs, she again opened fire on the enemy with her 203 mm guns in January 1944.

On December 14, 1939, the Soviet economic delegation left for Moscow. The members of the delegation fulfilled the government's instructions; they became familiar with the level of German technology and knew the qualities of German ships no worse than their own. And in this success, a prominent role belonged to the head of the delegation, People's Commissar of the shipbuilding industry, Ivan Fedorovich Tevosyan.

Once again, Ivan Fedorovich had the opportunity to visit Germany in November 1940 as part of a plenipotentiary government delegation. Then he already received an appointment to the post of People's Commissar of Ferrous Metallurgy. But the knowledge and experience he accumulated over the years of leading Soviet shipbuilding came in handy in his future work, and after the war, shipbuilders, not without trepidation, went to report to the mechanical engineering bureau, when it was headed by Deputy Chairman of the Council of Ministers of the USSR I. F. Tevosyan. “At a bureau meeting, I made a report, confused and confused, for more than three hours,” recalls one of the leaders of the shipbuilding industry of those years. - Tevosyan endlessly pestered me with questions: as a former People's Commissar, he knew factories and ships very well. In the end, based on my confused report, Tevosyan had a note in his notebook about the number of ships that I promised to deliver by the end of the third quarter. When, three months later, I was called back to the bureau, I, remembering the lesson taught by Ivan Fedorovich, prepared well, felt confident, often objected to Tevosyan, came out from behind the long table and showed Ivan Fedorovich graphs carefully drawn in colored pencils. When the meeting ended, Tevosyan said with satisfaction:

Last time you were generous with promises, but now you have been taught: you have become cautious and stubborn. This is good!"

Shipbuilding remained close to Ivan Fedorovich’s heart throughout his life. But even in metallurgy, he remained a brilliant organizer and skillful strategist of this industry, which was most important for the entire economy of the country. He successively held the posts of People's Commissar and Minister of Ferrous Metallurgy, Minister of Metallurgical Industry, and in 1949 he was appointed Deputy Chairman of the Council of Ministers of the USSR, combining these responsibilities with the leadership of the Ministry of Ferrous Metallurgy until 1953. Tevosyan’s great merit is in the uninterrupted supply of metal to the front and rear during the Great Patriotic War. And in the first post-war years, his name is associated with the revival of blast furnaces and open-hearth furnaces destroyed by the enemy in the west of the country, and the turn to qualitatively new technical solutions that have defined the industry today.

On October 14, 1956, Ivan Fedorovich Tevosyan received a new and unusual appointment for him - Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary to Japan, relations with which had normalized after a long break. This appointment coincided with the change of the American ambassador to this country - the notorious General MacArthur became him. Having learned that, according to diplomatic rules at official receptions, ambassadors are lined up not according to the rank of powers, but according to the time of arrival in a given country, Tevosyan abandoned all personal matters related to departure and rushed to Japan by plane in order to arrive in Tokyo at least an hour earlier MacArthur. And he achieved his goal: at official receptions, the representative of the USSR stood ahead of the American one.

In this episode - all of Tevosyan, who, having received a new assignment, immediately began to study the case, in a short time was able to study and understand many problems and, most importantly, quickly made decisions and began to act. With his usual seriousness and thoroughness, he approached other articles of the diplomatic protocol, and the result was not slow to show itself. Usually, during the presentation of his credentials, the Japanese Emperor Hirohito behaves in a purely formal manner, limiting himself to uttering a few stereotypical phrases. But at the presentation of the Soviet ambassador’s credentials, Hirohito got into conversation with him and, marveling at his youthful appearance, asked what the secret of youth was. To this Ivan Fedorovich replied: “I’m just an optimist and always smile!”

Later, while participating in the imperial hunt, where ducks are not shot but caught with a net, Tevosyan, although he was not a hunter, was the only one of all the participants who managed to catch a duck. It was clear to people who knew Ivan Fedorovich well that the hunting success, which all Japanese newspapers wrote about, weighed heavily on him as a waste of time. But the conscientiousness and thoroughness with which he treated any task entrusted to him led him to success even in such a matter as the imperial hunt. The same can be said about Tevosyan’s attitude towards official receptions. Here he was greatly annoyed by the need to pose in front of photo reporters, who asked every five minutes: “Mr. Ambassador! Please shake the minister’s hand and smile.” And he patiently and tactfully shook hands and smiled according to all the rules of diplomatic art.

In Japan, Tevosyan again encountered the shipbuilding industry, this time the Japanese one. And his trained People's Commissar's eye was able to see many things that not only a diplomat, but also most shipbuilders were unable to see. Members of the Soviet delegation, which arrived at the World Industrial Exhibition in Tokyo in May 1957, were able to verify this.

The first person to receive this delegation in Japan was the Soviet ambassador. He immediately recognized and named shipbuilders and metallurgists by their last names, and then met representatives of other professions. Immediately after a quick tour of the exhibition, Ivan Fedorovich invited the shipbuilders to his office, asked about their first impressions, and then impromptu gave a brilliant overview of the Japanese shipbuilding industry.

Japan, according to him, has relied on foreign experience in shipbuilding and is acquiring a huge number of licenses for the construction of ship turbines, boilers, diesel engines, generators, etc. This decision is caused by a lack of time and funds. Nevertheless, the exhibition also presents the original developments of Japanese designers, whose qualifications and abilities Tevosyan highly appreciated and whose developments he advised to be attentive to. Although Japanese firms sell their licenses, their number is 10–15 times less than those purchased in other countries.

If we briefly formulate the features of Japanese shipbuilding, they will boil down to the following: shipyards have large machine-building capacities. Factories make boilers, turbines, and diesel engines for themselves. For non-decisive mechanisms and equipment, they use broad cooperation. Shipyards also make some particularly important and large parts for themselves, without entrusting this work to contractors. Without knowing what such details mean for the vessel, the counterparty may be late with delivery and cause damage to the company, for which he will not be able to pay a penalty...

Most ships in Japan are built in dry docks, of which there are 83. All factories, even the largest ones, are engaged in ship repairs - there are no difficulties with orders for repairs, since the main customer here is the American military fleet. As for orders for merchant ships, the largest customer here is small countries like Liberia, and in fact - the same USA and other large capitalist countries that benefit from exploiting low-paid Japanese workers and crews of small countries.

Ivan Fedorovich revealed in this conversation the secret of the low cost of ships being built in Japan: it is explained by low wages and high discipline of workers, their qualifications, organization and intensity of their work. “Don’t try to look for a workers’ canteen in Japanese factories - you’ll never find it there. Workers have lunch at their workplaces and eat what they bring in boxes from home, he said. “And also pay attention to the fact that people work without literally raising their heads.”

“We listened and marveled,” recalls one of the members of this delegation. - Twenty-five years have passed since Ivan Fedorovich was People's Commissar of the shipbuilding industry, but he spoke about shipbuilding with such knowledge of the matter, with such subtleties, so skillfully that we forgot that before us was an ambassador extraordinary and plenipotentiary. Once again it seemed to us that distant times had returned, and we were again listening to our People's Commissar of Shipbuilding. Later, he met with us several more times, was interested in the results of our visits to shipyards, questioned us in detail, corrected us if we were wrong, explained if we did not understand, and emphasized the features of certain phenomena related to the customs and way of life in Japan. Later, talking with the metallurgists of the delegation, Ivan Fedorovich again showed himself to be at the height of the situation. He knew the Japanese metallurgical industry like the back of his hand, and metallurgists told him about their impressions, listened to him, consulted with him on the most subtle issues of their craft. And again we listened and were amazed at his broad knowledge, extraordinary interest in any matter, and the speed of understanding the complexity of the issues. Before us was not the Minister of Shipbuilding, but the Minister of Ferrous Metallurgy. To be more precise, before us was an outstanding specialist in industry in general...”

During one of the last meetings with the delegation, Tevosyan formulated with utmost clarity the main directions for increasing production efficiency. “It is necessary to organize industry in such a way,” he said, “that maximum specialization of all factories without exception is ensured, the broadest possible cooperation between industries, standardization and unification of machines, mechanisms and products and an all-out transition to mass production. This is the secret of the matter, this is the secret of high productivity, this will work wonders in socialist economic management.”

On March 30, 1958, the country saw off its outstanding son on his last journey. Ivan Fedorovich was buried on Red Square, near the Kremlin steppe. At the head of the funeral procession, according to tradition, his numerous awards were carried on scarlet pillows: the gold medal “Hammer and Sickle” of the Hero of Socialist Labor, five Orders of Lenin, three of the Red Banner of Labor and many medals. He, who never wore a military uniform, was given military honors. And this is quite fair, because with equal justification he can be called “commander of metallurgy” or “admiral of shipbuilding.”

Ivan Fedorovich Tevosyan entered the history of Soviet industry as the largest metallurgical engineer and organizer of the metallurgical industry. But it is no coincidence that the large oil ore carrier Ivan Tevosyan is now plying the sea. Not only this ship, the entire Soviet shipbuilding industry still bears the imprint of the personality of its first people's commissar. Although Ivan Fedorovich led the shipbuilding industry for a relatively short time - only a little over three years - shipbuilding apparently played a decisive role in his life and in his development as a prominent organizer of the industry. And the point here, of course, is not that the first People’s Commissar’s post in his life was the post of People’s Commissar of Shipbuilding. The point here is that shipbuilding, with its developed specialization and cooperation between factories, showed Tevosyan what a truly modern, highly organized production should be like. “I recommend that you go to the Ministry of Shipbuilding,” he once told one of his employees at the Ministry of Ferrous Metals, “and study the schedule of construction work, starting from laying the ship on the slipway and ending with its launching. Hundreds of enterprises are involved in the creation of a ship, but shipbuilders managed to achieve such precision in their work and such a conscious attitude to their responsibilities that the ships are delivered on time, on schedule. We all need to give up handicrafts and carry out all construction work strictly according to schedule - day after day, hour after hour! This is the only way to create an exemplary industry!”

Destroyer LOUD

Yes, Victor Hugo also said that legends have their own truth!

Unfortunately, there is a need to explain that this legend about the gold of the Kuban Rada, which

managed to get around quite a few local and metropolitan media, like everyone else in the world,

has its beginning. Namely. It appeared after the publication in four issues of the newspaper “Evening Novorossiysk” (January-February 2000) of my material “Where did the gold of the Kuban Rada go?”

I will try to briefly outline the essence of the legend about the gold of the Kuban Rada.

In March 1918, the troops of the Kuban Rada, leaving Ekaterinodar to the Red Guard detachments, took out a convoy with treasures, which numbered 80 carts. In addition to the government treasury and relics of the Kuban Cossack army, the boxes and packages contained many golden items (bowls, crosses, censers, icons in gold frames, pearls and gems).

However, during the wanderings of the convoy along the front roads of the Civil War, most of the precious cargo was “lost” or deliberately hidden in the region. It is known that only historical silver and regalia of the Kuban Cossack army (12 boxes) were exported abroad in 1920. Until recently they were in the USA. An agreement has now been reached to return them to Kuban. How could some of the treasures of the Kuban Rada (four boxes) end up in the hold of the destroyer Gromky? I heard a similar but unlikely story about this a long time ago, in 1968, from a veteran of the revolution and civil war, S.V. P-ka. My publication about him in the Novorossiysk Rabochiy newspaper dated November 19, 1968, entitled “Sailor from the Gangut,” caused a negative reaction among other veterans of the revolution, which made me doubt the “memoirs” of my interlocutor. In order not to traumatize the memory of his descendants, I will retell his adventures without naming his last name. Let’s leave him under the pseudonym “Sailor from the Gangut”...

After the battles of 1918, our Sailor from the Gangut was hospitalized, where he met a dying man, a former confidant of the head of the government of the Kuban Rada, L. L. Bych. This man turned out to be the brother of the commander of the Gromky EM, N.A. Novakovsky. Before his death, he gave our hero a gold watch to Bure and asked him to take a farewell letter to his brother to Novorossiysk...

Fearing that he would become an unwitting accomplice of the “white counter”, the Sailor from the Gangut opened the package. And for good reason! The reverse side of a piece of topographic map (the vicinity of Ekaterinodar) was dotted with an incomprehensible set of letters. Clearly a code! And the signature is strange: “Montigomo Hawk Claw”... And on the map, in the bend of the Kuban, near the village of Elizavetinskaya, there was a small cross...

Secret letter! To penetrate its meaning, our hero found Novakovsky in Novorossiysk and gave him his brother’s farewell letter. He himself made friends with Gobelko and other members of the ship’s committee of the destroyer “Gromky”, convincing them of the need to monitor the actions of the ship’s commander, and they did not take long to wait. Novakovsky's trusted boatswain, with two sailors, went on a business trip. They did not return soon and brought to the ship four large boxes bound with iron. Allegedly, ammunition. The boxes were locked in the hold...

And although the boatswain and two sailors soon left the ship, the rumor remained among the crew: the boxes were brought from near Yekaterinodar, where the Kuban Rada’s convoy with treasures was located. When General Kornilov died, General Denikin, who replaced him, decided to retreat to the Don. Part of the convoy had to be left in the ground. No one knows what was in the boxes brought aboard the Loud. But the strange behavior of the ship’s commander, Novakov, soon sowed a rumor that the reason for his desire to leave Novorossiysk unnoticed and return to Sevastopol was the gold of the Kuban Rada, which accidentally fell into the hold of the destroyer. Where is the truth? Where is the fiction? What if, in fact, the Sailor of the Gangut was right in his assumptions! Unfortunately, experts believe that it is completely impossible to penetrate the interior of the ship scuttled in 1918. Dangerous for the lives of scuba divers.

Therefore, the mystery of the destroyer Gromky continues to excite our imagination and, probably, it will never be revealed. However, who knows? Suddenly there will be enthusiasts who will raise the whole ship from the seabed in order to penetrate its secret.

Destroyer Gromky - project.

Destroyer Gromkiy at the bottom.

Help "MV":

On April 25, 1918, the German command presented the Soviet government with an ultimatum to surrender the Black Sea Fleet. On April 29 of the same year, the destroyer, along with other ships, left Sevastopol for Novorossiysk to avoid capture by the Kaiser's troops.

On May 28, 1918, a secret directive was received, signed by Lenin, on the need to destroy the ships of the Black Sea Fleet. On June 17, 1918, the destroyer "Gromky" was scuttled by its crew near Myskhako at a point at a depth of 36-42 m. In 1947, while clearing mines at Tsemesskaya

Gromky Bay was discovered and examined by the Emergency Rescue Service of the Black Sea Fleet, but due to severe corrosion of the hull, superstructures and mechanisms, it was left on the ground. The ship lies on the left side, half submerged in silt. When flooded he hit