In August 1955, as a 3rd year student at the Kharkov Military Aviation School, I went on vacation to Krasny Kolyadyn to visit my grandfather Fyodor Romanovich, a participant in the Russian-Japanese and World War I, who turned 75 years old. The years did not in the least affect the freshness of his memory. We remembered the tragic September 1941, went to the Swedish Kurgan, where at the beginning of the war we saw a "miracle". There was nothing special at the top, except that the grass did not grow there, and the shepherd boys said: "If you put your ear to the ground, you will hear a bell ringing, the Swedes buried bells and cannons there." Grandfather said that he had met a "miracle" like that seen in September 1941 before.
About the first he said the following: “Since 1903, I served as a messenger for the regimental doctor, Doctor Boka of the Bryansk regiment, who was stationed in the city of Baturyn, the former residence of the Ukrainian hetmans. With the outbreak of the Manchurian War, ambulance train No. 14 was formed. Together with the 10th Army Corps, our train with third-class cars departed from Kiev for the Manchurian War.
We arrived in Laoyan, a typical Chinese town with endless bazaars and paper windows. In 5-7 versts to the west of the city, the high Mount Mastun stood out sharply with a light brown top. It was the hot, sultry June days of 1905. I will forever remember June 29 (old style) - it was the day of Peter and Paul - Petrovka. In the cold water of Tai-Dzykhe, we bathed our horses in the evenings, cleaned them with scrapers, and polished them.
When it got completely dark, the stars began to pour out their unfading light. And suddenly in the west, over the top of Mount Mastun, where the sun had recently set, it began to dawn. First, a crimson strip appeared, which began to widen, lengthen, taking up more and more space. After some time, she climbed over the top of the mountain. A glow quickly swept over the sky, the horizon swaying like molten metal. And everything around suddenly froze.
There was an extraordinary silence. After 5-7 minutes, the "miracle" just as quietly, soundlessly melted, slowly disappeared. The sky became darker and the stars brighter. The next morning, early in the morning, a group of officers from the 4th General Hospital - Bok, Engelhard, Grekov, Burkhard - with their messengers, including myself, rode on horseback to Mount Mastun. We stayed on its flat top for three hours, but we did not find any traces of yesterday's "miracle". The only strange thing was that for some reason there were no birds, insects either - they all disappeared somewhere.
And from the very beginning of our stay on the mountain, we all were seized with some inexplicable anxiety, a feeling of anxiety, as before the start of a bayonet attack.”In parting, among other gifts, I received from my grandfather a colorful album with photographs and drawings of Dr. Bok during the war, captivity in Japan, return by steamer through the Philippines, Port Said to Odessa. The album contains photographs and watercolors of Mount Mastun, taken by officers of the 4th General Hospital. In short, the last meeting with my grandfather spurred my interest in UFOs again.
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