After Turkey we became fast friends, and exchanged many text messages by cell phone.  Later German came to Moscow, to be with me.  Back then everything turned out okay, but by then parting was a hard thing…

 Later I had to go to Murmansk.  And again…  I even changed my ticket to a day later, so that we could be together a little longer.  I will not lie if I say that ever since we met (not counting Turkey) we had only seen each other 5 times.   (German went to sea for 3 months at a time, and sometimes as long as half a year).  When I awoke in the hospital, I remembered him (not right away, though, I had retrograde amnesia), and I had the feeling that I had known him for 5 years.

 On that, the last day, he had come home from his latest cruise, and according to his mother, Raisa Vasilevna Tkach, right away he took off for Moscow.  He was supposed to fly back home on October 23^rd, but destiny decided otherwise, and we could not bear to part and so we changed his ticket.  Once again, it was a strange confluence of circumstances: I had already seen the musical, so I decided to surprise him and offered to take him to ‘Nord-Ost’.  And we bought tickets on October 23^rd…

When I awoke in the hospital, for a long time I could not remember how I got there.  Memory returned a little at a time, at first I said that I was there with my girlfriend, and later when I remembered it all the horror came to me.  I recall how I lay in the hospital trying to call Murmansk on my cell phone, but could not get anywhere.  Later they sent me to ‘Blue’, some kind of a rehabilitation center.  I did not want to go, because I wanted to go home and get on the Internet and find out what had happened to German.  They had to force me to go.  My sister went with me, and she told me about German’s fate.

Now I am terrified to remember those days.  Laying there in the hospital I could not even guess that Raisa Vasilevna, German’s mother, had been in Moscow, had talked with my sister and taken German’s body to bury…

I only thought, what am I to say to her?

Now, after the passing of so many years I do not even want to think about ‘Nord-Ost’.  But people died there, our loved ones, and their memory should always live, and so therefore when I hear ‘Nord-Ost’, I shudder, and my memory returns to there, where we sat waiting for rescue, hoping for the best, and that moment that I still remember: when all were still alive…

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