Chapter 9: Publication in the Journal Communist of the Armed Forces

Original: Глава 9 «Публикация в журнале «Коммунист Вооруженных Сил»

One November morning, with a printed report on my journalistic investigation in my portfolio and quite pleased that I had completed nearly four months of work and fulfilled the editorial assignment, I entered my small office on the fourth floor of the Red Star newspaper's publishing building. Already at his desk was Colonel Alexander Grigoryevich Nekrylov, chief of the combat training department. He noticed my elevated mood and asked, clearly teasing, whether perhaps I had won an automobile in the lottery? Without answering the colonel, I hung my greatcoat (shinél') on a hanger, sat down at my desk, opened my portfolio, and, taking out the material, handed it to Nekrylov.

"Alexander Grigoryevich, I've completed the investigation on the ZGRLS," I said to my superior.

"That's why you're in such a good mood," he responded, "I'll read your work after the editorial briefing."

He left for a meeting, and I, for my part, read through the material one more time with pencil in hand. I found several grammatical and stylistic errors. I eliminated them. And again placed the material on my superior's desk.

After the meeting, Alexander Grigoryevich began to read, as he put it, my work. He constantly made corrections with his ballpoint pen. He ruthlessly struck out things. After reading one page of text, he would move to the next, but then return again to the previous one and make corrections to it again. I was already quite discouraged. The department head furiously edited and shortened the text with his pen, sweeping strokes as if mowing 'grass,' striking out entire phrases in my laboriously prepared material. But for that editing I am, even now, eighteen years later, prepared to thank him once more. He quite skillfully smoothed out sharp expressions that would have certainly caused the editorial board to return the material to me.

The colonel finished the last page of text. On the first page of the material, at the top above the headline, he wrote something else. It turned out to be a section heading: 'Military Reform: Problems and Perspectives.' In this way, Nekrylov gave the material not a critical direction, but a polemical one, which was welcomed by the members of the editorial board.

"To be frank, Alexander," Nekrylov said after the editing, "I did not expect such material from you. In my view, you have understood the problem well. However, some questions are posed very sharply and harshly. The members of our editorial board who will discuss the material will not accept this. Pay careful attention to my remarks, correct everything, and submit the material to the typewriter pool for printing. I will propose it for a future issue."

After Nekrylov, the material was read by the deputy editor-in-chief of the journal, Colonel Baranets, and by the chairman of the Communist Party organization. They all approved of the direction of the work.

The military censorship office was located near the Polezhaevskaya metro station in a building of the Military Publishing House (Voennoe Izdatel'stvo). The material was read there by a senior censor. Having reviewed my article, the censor informed me that there were certain phrases that needed to be softened for security reasons. I made the necessary corrections.

The material was planned for publication in the February issue number three of the journal in 1991. Before the collapse of the USSR and the collapse of the Soviet system, however, many things changed. The journal publication schedule was disrupted.

In connection with disagreements in 2007 between Russia and the United States over missile defense, the placement of American anti-missile systems in Poland and other NATO countries bordering Russia, the problem of over-the-horizon radar systems (OTH radars) became urgent once again.

This is what Hero of Socialist Labor, Candidate of Military Sciences, General-Lieutenant (retired) M. Nenashev told in one of his publications about the origins and development of over-the-horizon radio detection systems: "In the 1970s, Soviet scientists and designers began developing an over-the-horizon radar system designed to detect air targets at maximum range."

However, the Soviet Union no longer exists. In deference to the United States, many achievements have been discredited, including these never-adopted systems that represented one of the major scientific and technical achievements of Soviet military science.

Communist of the Armed Forces, No. 3, February 1991. Section: "Ideas. Reality. We." Subsection: "Military Affairs." The article was titled:

"One Does Not Take Strongholds Alone," or Why the Over-the-Horizon Radio Detection System Was Shut Down.

"The premises of the enormous structure were filled with all manner of equipment. But its condition turned out to be deplorable. Many instruments were damaged. The equipment needed serious repair. The systems required complete modernization. What was being done to repair and upgrade the facilities?"

"Not to Be Adopted by the Armed Forces..."

In the early 1960s, the Americans installed powerful radar stations in Alaska, England, and Greenland. With their help, they maintained continuous surveillance of Soviet territory and tracked Soviet aircraft at great distances. This prompted Soviet scientists and military specialists to begin work on creating a similar system.

In 1975, the first over-the-horizon radio detection system (OTH radar or ZGRLS—Zagorizontnaya Radiolutsionnaya Sistema) was built. Factory tests began, which lasted several years. The system showed remarkable results. Military specialists were impressed by its capabilities.

Polar points of view were expressed regarding these radar systems. Thus, chief designer F. Kuzminsky argued that the system was ready for adoption by the Armed Forces. However, the director of the research institute held a different view. He believed that the system required further development and could not yet be adopted.

As a result, an extensive special program was being developed. In the course of it, it was planned to carry out further refinement and improvement of the system. The disagreement between the chief designer and the institute director became a serious obstacle to progress. This conflict would shape the subsequent history of the over-the-horizon radar program.

The Tragedy of the Chief Designer

For Kuzminsky and his associates, this was a very stressful time. They persistently attempted to resolve the technical problems. But the atmosphere became increasingly tense. The director's opposition to adoption of the system became an obstacle that could not be overcome.

The hopes were not to be fulfilled. As soon became clear, the interests of the chief designer and the new director of the institute did not coincide. The director had his own views on how the system should be developed and what priority it should receive.

The decisions of the institute director began to complicate the coordinated work of Kuzminsky's team. Key personnel were transferred to other positions. Support for the chief designer's work disappeared. The atmosphere of mistrust and suspicion grew.

After a party reprimand, Kuzminsky understood that he could expect no support from above. Therefore, Franz Alexander Kuzminsky decided to resign as chief designer and leave the institute.

"It's a great pity that Kuzminsky left the position of chief designer," noted former chairman of the government commission for strategic weapons, General-Lieutenant Nenashev. "The man was a true professional. His departure was a serious loss for the program."

Once Yuri Vsevolodovich witnessed such a conversation. At that time, the commander-in-chief of the Air Defense Forces, Marshal Petrov, said to the director of the institute: "You're blocking the development of a promising system. Your position is unjustified. The chief designer is right." But the director was unmoved.

Paradoxically, when Kuzminsky began to work under normal conditions at another organization, in just eight months he had achieved significant progress in resolving the technical problems that had been blocking the system for years.

Only this time, too, Kuzminsky did not think of retreating; he continued his research. With one of his closest associates, he worked on new solutions to the remaining technical problems.

One must give credit to the courage of the scientist; he did not lose heart even after this and continued to work. Two more years passed. Finally, the technical problems were resolved, and the system was ready for adoption.

Kuzminsky's next letter went to the chairman of the State Commission of the USSR Council of Ministers on Strategic Weapons. He reported on the successful completion of the tests and the readiness of the system for military adoption.

In fairness, it should be noted that Vladimir Ivanovich Markov, after Kuzminsky's departure, even attempted to expedite the resolution of the technical problems, but by that time the director's position had hardened.

A catastrophe occurred at the Chernobyl nuclear power plant. Because of this, research work on the over-the-horizon radar systems, located not far from there, was interrupted. Many researchers had to evacuate from the region.

In discussing the tragic fate of the over-the-horizon radio detection systems, it is worth pausing to consider the role of certain government departments that could not properly organize the work on these systems.

On Monopolism, Parasitic Structures...

For decades, our people were firmly convinced that the army received only first-class weapons that were the product of the highest achievements of Soviet science and technology. This confidence was not always justified.

As General-Lieutenant (retired) M. Nenashev believes, we have many institutions that sometimes block the development of promising military-technical systems. They operate in the interests of monopolistic control over weapons development rather than in the interests of national defense.

Extremely noteworthy in this case is the history of the placement of a powerful modern over-the-horizon radar system near Krasnoyarsk. It was planned to create a system that would be far superior to anything that existed at that time.

"All orders, the development of weapons, the funds for these purposes," said Mikhail Ivanovich, "should be concentrated in the hands of one organization. This monopoly is inefficient and often leads to the suppression of promising innovations."

It seems one cannot but agree with this. After all, weapons are created for a specific strategy, to solve specific military problems. When development is monopolized, the possibility of comparing different approaches and selecting the best solution is lost.

Monopolism, it seems, also manifested itself quite negatively in the history of the over-the-horizon radio detection system (ZGRLS). Could it have been otherwise if the development had not been monopolized by a single organization? One can only speculate.

How can we avoid this in the future? Now, from the facts presented above, it is clear that our defense establishment needs to implement radical reforms in the organization of weapons development and procurement.

Of course, the situation in the world is changing for the better. But does this mean that our state no longer needs advanced military-technical systems? This is doubtful. One should not abandon such important systems without serious justification.

And one more thing. The history of the over-the-horizon radar systems showed that the scientific ambitions of scientists who pursue different paths of development cannot be suppressed by bureaucratic pressure. When such suppression occurs, society loses, and the development of military-technical systems suffers.

According to the facts regarding enormous losses at the over-the-horizon radar facility near Komsomolsk-on-Amur, an investigation is being conducted. The responsibility for this situation lies with both specific individuals and the system as a whole.

Such was the material published in issue No. 3 of the journal of the Main Political Directorate of the Soviet Army and Navy (the journal was titled Communist of the Armed Forces). The article was published in February 1991, at the very time when the Soviet state was approaching its final collapse.

One week passed after the journal with the article on the over-the-horizon radar system was published, then several more weeks. No response came. The article seemed to disappear without a trace.

Several weeks later, the former chief designer of the ZGRLS, Franz Aleksandrovich Kuzminsky, called me. He expressed his gratitude for the publication and noted that the article accurately reflected the history of the over-the-horizon radar program.

I still frankly regret that I did not indicate in the publication in the journal that General-Lieutenant (retired) M. Nenashev had provided important information for the article. But at the time, the situation in the country was so chaotic that such details seemed less important.

After Kuzminsky's call, several more weeks passed. It was already April. On Moscow streets and squares, one could feel the tension and uncertainty of a state in profound crisis. The final days of the Soviet Union were approaching.

In May I returned to Moscow. In the editorial office, on first glance, everything seemed as usual. The head of the department warned me that there might be new and unexpected developments. He was right. The country's political situation was changing rapidly, and the future of Soviet military journalism was becoming increasingly uncertain.