Elusive Tanks

As I mentioned in the previous post, this year was the first time the tanks took part in the Victory Day parade since the collapse of the Soviet Union, and Nick and I were determined to see them. Yet, finding the tanks proved to be more then trivial.

In any “normal” country, such “patriotic display of force” would be well publicized, with the route and street closures announced far in advance. But that is not the Russian way. Nobody we talked to knew the exact route the tanks would follow. Following our friends’ advice we headed to the Pushkin Square, hoping to see the tanks along Tverskaya Street on their way to Red Square.

The parade on Red Square started at 10am. When we arrived at the Puskin Square shortly before 10, Tverskaya Street was closed to traffic. Enormous crowds filled the sidewalks, threatening to spill out into the street. To prevent such a calamity, yellow tape was strung up along the edge of the road, and militiamen, Russian equivalent of policemen, spread themselves out along the sidewalk intimidating some with their presence.

Yet, everyone around us was in a festive mood. Everyone, young and old, came out to see the tanks. Adults were as giddy as their children with excitement. Throughout the week we saw people wearing St. George ribbons on their clothes, bags, attached to their car antennas. Now everyone also proudly waved Russian flags of all sizes. Nick and I found a good spot on the edge of the sidewalk, and settled in to wait.

Further down the street, a few people ducked under the yellow tape and ran across Tverskaya. Almost immediately a militiaman came running down the street screaming into a megaphone. What would you expect a US policeman say in this situation? Perhaps something like, “Please stay on the sidewalk! Please do not step out onto the road.” The Russian version of the same directive translated to the following, “Get off the road! Can’t you hear me? What part of what I am saying don’t you understand? Yes, I am speaking to you! Off the road now!”

As we waited, we noticed that the militia cars zooming back and forth were occasionally shouting something into their megaphones. In fact, they kept repeating that the tanks would not pass along Tverskaya Street, and that we should all stop waiting for them here. This information was confusing to say the least. If there would be no tanks along Tverskaya, then why the road was still closed to traffic, and why all these Muscovites continued to wait not moving an inch.

A little old lady standing next to us with a little boy, probably her grandson, seemed quite upset by the militia announcements. “They are bluffing,” she said. “They just want us all to leave.” She was determined to stay where she was.

Nick and I were less persistent—we decided to follow militia’s advice and move on. After taking a leisurely stroll around the Patriarch Ponds, we walked over to Sadovoe Koltso, one of the locations mentioned by the militia cars. In the end the tanks did follow Sadovoe Koltso and not Tverskaya Street on their way back from Red Square. Ironically, militia provided us with correct information after all. The mystery still remains as to why Tverskaya was left closed to all traffic if not in use by the tanks.