A tough life and a bitter city

Issue Number: 
76
Author: 
Vladimir Kozlov
Published: 
2000-08-26


MURMANSK – In this bleak Far North city of crumbling buildings and rusting industry, locals will tell you that "winter lasts 10 months and the rest is autumn" – an environment that makes daily life a strain and emotions run high.

Perhaps that’s why initial optimism among the public that the Kursk crew would be rescued quickly turned to bitter disappointment and anger when it became clear that all had perished – and why locals were not shy about saying exactly what they thought.

"I believe that what happened is a shame on the authorities," said Tonya, a teenager sitting in a city square surrounded by peeling Soviet-era buildings. "[President Vladimir] Putin promised to restore the might of Russia’s military fleet ... and what has happened is his fault."

"The whole course of events proved that the authorities did not do enough to save the crew because they didn’t want to," added Sergei, a middle-aged fisherman sitting on a bench drinking a lunchtime beer.

Once a relatively prosperous port city, Murmansk has experienced a severe economic crisis since the collapse of the Soviet Union, with unemployment rocketing. Many residents talk about leaving, and those with any possibilities for life elsewhere are deserting in droves.

But despite the bleak conditions, just a couple of days before the announcement that the crew had been lost, there was still hope among the public that someone might be saved.

Even Sunday morning, eight days after the accident and a day before the official announcement that all the sailors had perished, people gathered at the small, newly built church of St. Nicholas near the city center for a special prayer service for the Kursk crew.

"What happened to them is so unfortunate, and we set our hopes in God," said Tatyana, attending the service with her teenage daughter, Snezhana. Others concurred that God was with those sailors who had already died, but that there was still hope for the remainder.

"Any serviceman who swears to his motherland is ready to give his life to his neighbor," said Father Andrei Amelin, the church priest. "Many sins are forgiven through a martyr's death. Those who may be dead already are in heaven, I’m sure."

The clergy at an old wooden Murmansk church traveled Sunday morning to the village of Vidyaevo – next to the naval base where the Kursk was stationed and from which it departed on its final voyage – to comfort the family members arriving from across Russia and the CIS. Mass prayers were conducted nonstop since the crisis began.

• Long journeys

The families, many of whom took the long and arduous journey to Murmansk by train, were met at the railway station by naval officers.

"This is a very unusual task for me," said Capt. Alexander Fedosov. "I would prefer that I never have to carry out such a task again."

The naval officers accompanied the family members of the Kursk crew – running the gauntlet of journalists at the station wanting to question them – to buses waiting to take them to Vidyaevo. Few families, having traveled vast distances and consumed by worry and grief, wanted to speak to the media.

One new arrival, Irina, the wife of the Kursk's sonar operator Senior Lt. Korobkov, clutching her 3-year-old daughter Lena in her arms, told journalists that "the government was incapable of doing what was needed to save the men on board," before breaking down in tears. She was one of only a few able to briefly keep her composure to make a statement.

But there were also some examples of the triumph of the human spirit outside the railway station.

•Overwhelmed

One unidentified woman, who, overwhelmed by grief, had rushed past the media, sat waiting in the bus to be transported to Vidyaevo. Not long after she entered the bus, a weather-beaten babushka came to the door clutching about 50 rubles and began knocking.

The babushka wouldn't talk to journalists, but the naval officers allowed her onto the bus and later said she gave the family member the money, which the naval officers later said was "all the money she had."

Capt. Fedosov, escorting the relatives, was in 1992 a crewmember on a Russian submarine that collided with the U.S. Baton Rouge submarine. But he declined to talk about the incident, saying it bore no relevance to the present situation. Fedosov also rebutted the possibility that poor training of the Kursk personnel might have triggered the catastrophe, saying that, in fact, it was one of the best crews of the Northern Fleet.

The salaries of naval officers of the Northern Fleet range from $50 to $100 a month, and though they enjoy some privileges, rumors had been circulating, they said, that the perks – such as cheaper rent and free public transport – were soon to be curtailed or canceled. Indeed, it is the terrible financial conditions and lack of attention from the government, Navy officers said, that was more likely to drive people from the fleet than the Kursk catastrophe.

Capt. Anatoly Shamanyuk, another officer meeting relatives at the train station, was philosophical when asked if he feared serving on an under-financed and ill-equipped Northern Fleet.

"Someone has to defend the motherland," he said. "It’s not our country’s fault that it ended up in such conditions. Everything is done by people, politics is done by people."

That was Sunday. On Monday came word that the entire crew of the Kursk had perished.

The following day, Murmansk residents were back to the daily grind of surviving in the impoverished city. But feelings were still running high. Although many had their own theories and explanations on what happened to the submarine, two emotions were at the forefront – sympathy for the crew; and anger at the Navy and government for their handling of the tragedy.

"Although it didn’t concern me directly, the tragedy brought me to tears," said Nina Andreyevna, a pensioner sitting on a bench in a small park in downtown Murmansk.

"It’s a shocking event. Personally, I believe that there was a decision taken not to save them [the crew]," said Yulia, a blond, attractive young woman from Vidyaevo. "They [local Navy officials] must have been covering up something. They could have saved them."

• Rumors circulate

She added that one of the rumors circulating around the Navy base had it that some civilians, including a high-ranking officer’s son, were on board the Kursk as day guests.

"I knew there was a catastrophe the first day it happened," said Alexei, a taxi driver. "We taxi drivers learn everything from our customers. On the same day [Saturday, when the Kursk sank] an order for a consignment of zinc coffins was placed."

At the same time, Murmansk residents reacted unenthusiastically to the news that Putin had arrived at the base Tuesday to speak with the relatives of crewmembers.

"What can he do for them? Retrieve the bodies?" asked Katya, a teenager taking a walk in a small park with her friend.

"He should have been here on the very first day because I think a lot depended upon him," said Lena, a young mother walking her child in a baby carriage. "He must not have had all the information he needed. There has been too much lying in this case. We will probably never learn what actually happened."

"It’s OK for him to come to express sympathy with the families. If I were allowed to go to Vidyaevo, I would, too," said Lyudmila, an elderly woman walking her dog. She said that even if Putin had arrived earlier, it would not have done any good.

But most believed the president should have come to the scene of the disaster much sooner and that there was more that could have been done.

"He should have come the first day instead of vacationing in Sochi, acting as if the whole thing didn’t concern him," said pensioner, Raisa Alexeyevna. "If our military had not been destroyed, we would have had our own divers."

"We condemn his actions," chimed in her younger companion, Valentina. "He should have accepted foreign aid as soon as it was offered."

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