Moscow masks the real price of ending the Chechen problem

Most ordinary Russians think the war in Chechnya will soon end in an easy victory. Mark Webster found a very different picture in Sernovodsk

GRINDING down the otherwise empty village road, the Russian armoured personnel carrier bristled with soldiers on the lookout for snipers. Only a few days before, the troops said, the village of Sernovodsk had been a stronghold of Chechen militants. Now, after days of heavy shelling and some hand-to-hand fighting, the Russians were firmly in charge.

In the past few days it does seem that the vast Russian military force in the area has made progress in its goal of seizing the capital Grozny and commanding the entire breakaway republic of Chechnya. There has been heavy fighting around Argun, only six miles away, and after some bloody confrontations it looks as though the Russian army has emerged victorious.

That is certainly the impression which Moscow is anxious to create - and which the Russian people outside the immediate area of the fighting have been fed on a regular basis. Hardly surprisingly, the reality for the troops and the civilians on the ground is radically different.

Travelling into Chechnya with a group of Russian soldiers there is no mistaking their determination or their expertise. They had already experienced some close combat in this war which only started two months ago. Some had experience of the last Chechen war between 1994 and 1996, when thousands of soldiers and tens of thousands of civilians died before Moscow was humiliated into withdrawing its army.

The group we travelled with had learned from the last war, as have their generals. This time there is no mad dash for Grozny, leaving them exposed in bases which the Chechen rebels could easily attack in guerrilla missions. Now the Russians send in a deadly daily fusillade of shells and rockets in a bid to eliminate the militants - or at least weaken their defences.

Oleg is a typical young Russian officer. He saw some action in the last campaign and now, crouching in a muddy trench some way from the front line, he says he is impressed by the fighting capacity of the Chechens but anxious to avenge the disaster of the last campaign.

"It's alright for the United States to go and bomb Kosovo," he says, taking a slug of vodka. "But when Russia tries to tame the terrorists here, the West starts to criticise. Look at you British as well. How long did the English fight the Scottish? It's no different here."

What's unnerving here on the front line is that so many of the Russian officers and the NCOs are as much at ease with British history as the writing of Tolstoy or Pushkin. What has not changed is the huge gap between them and the average conscript serving two years in the Russian army and living in the same pitiable conditions as many of their predecessors during the last two world wars.

Standing talking to teenage country boys who are hundreds of miles from their home, in towns from Tomsk to Vladivostok, it quickly becomes clear that their commitment to this war is not as great as the long-serving professional soldiers who lead them. Yet these are the lads who died in such large numbers during the previous war and they are the ones who will eventually be asked to make the same sacrifice this time.

Thanks to a thaw in the winter snow, the mud is now several inches deep in the Russian trenches. While the professional soldiers are reasonably well clothed and heavily armed, these youthful conscripts splash around in filthy uniforms, carrying out menial tasks such as foraging for firewood from farms and houses that have been abandoned.

There are unsubstantiated reports that within the past few days 250 Russian soldiers have been wiped out in an attack by Chechen rebels tired of waiting for the Russians to start their ground attack on strongholds like Grozny. Yet looking at these young men, who can be dispatched to Chechnya with only six months' training, it is not hard to believe that ruthless and highly motivated militants could have attacked with such force and such success.

One of the youngest - just 18 - showed me his icon of the Virgin Mary which he said his mother had given him to protect him from harm. He had been on patrol for 45 days without a break but honestly believed he was doing his duty for his Fatherland. Every day he repeated the prayer inside, he said, and asked me for my blessing.

YET this is not the image of the war being shown to the Russian people. What they see is a daily diet of huge guns pounding, soldiers advancing and, on rare occasions, refugees receiving Russian aid. For most of them this is a bloodless war which can only result in a crushing victory for their army.

In reality, all the evidence points to the Russian forces receiving the same bloody nose as they suffered in the last exchange. Rebels who have had three years to prepare their defences in cities such as Urus-Martan and Grozny are not about to relinquish their defensive advantage. Even Russian generals are altering their aggressive rhetoric and talking about the war dragging on for another three months.

Even Russian official sources have accepted reluctantly that, in many places, the militants are hiding in well-prepared shelters until the bombing stops. Then, they say, they will emerge as an avenging army and inflict the same damage on what they call the invading forces as they did last time around.

It's unclear whether the Russian people would support large numbers of casualties. Until now this war has been enormously popular domestically, with recent opinion polls showing two-thirds of the country wholly behind the campaign. While Russians want an end to what they see as the Chechen problem, their support could quickly evaporate if the cost is too high.

Certainly, the average Chechen civilian who has put up with years of fighting, interspersed with a largely wasted peace, yearns for an end to the fighting and a chance to rebuild their lives. The difficulty recognised by most observers is that even if Moscow were prepared to talk it's hard to see which of the rebel leaders could negotiate effectively.

The nominal president of Chechnya, Aslan Maskhadov, has repeatedly called for talks but has been rebuffed. His problem is the anarchic Chechen warlords who run pockets of the country have constantly demonstrated their unwillingness to discuss anything other than total independence - something which Moscow has been equally unwilling to concede.

Back in the trenches of the breakaway republic the Russian soldiers maintain their desire to see the separatists beaten and a united Russia remain a significant force. Yet, as they share their rations and the professional soldiers talk increasingly wildly of trashing their opponents, the young conscripts grow more and more silent.

Snow begins to fall in heavy flakes and, though it is only four in the afternoon, darkness swiftly descends. In the gloom, the young conscript with his icon of the Virgin Mary shuffles alongside. Pressing it into my hand, he whispers so the officers won't hear: "You take it. I don't need it any more." Then he disappears into the dark.

Mark Webster is ITN's Moscow Correspondent catch up Russian planes and artillery yesterday hammered the outskirts of the Chechen city of Argun - a key gateway to the capital Grozny. US-sponsored Radio Liberty reported yesterday that Russian troops descending on Grozny had massacred a column of some 40 refugees fleeing the city. Thousands of civilians remain trapped in Grozny

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