The 65th anniversary of the October Revolution. We celebrate our Great Holiday in space. I recall — I spent the 50th anniversary in another ocean, the Indian, where on the ship Viktor Kotelnikov I participated in operations to support the search for the automated Zond probes after they flew around the Moon and returned to Earth. Those were my first and very memorable steps working in the design bureau of Sergei Pavlovich Korolev.

When we were passing over the Soviet Union, they established a link with us right from Red Square, showed us a bit of the parade, invited the families who were there, and I was able to congratulate Lyusya on her birthday. Dear woman, she speaks so warmly, so eager to do something nice, to lift our spirits. I hear the TV commentators congratulating her. It’s cold there, we can see the children are freezing. And we, flying over the country, passed the holiday relay to cities and republics, affirming the greatness of the achievements of our talented, hardworking, kind people.

In the next session, the entire TsUP shift gave us a wonderful concert. Viktor, the communications operator and shift flight director, played the accordion, and two girls, both named Natasha, sang Russian folk songs, and when they sang “Yellow Leaves,” we were already flying over Mongolia. They showed us all the guys on the shift. Well done.

We left the coverage zone, and silence fell. Tolya went to the transfer compartment to read. And I’m thinking of running on the KTF treadmill.

We tidied up the station, hung a portrait of V.I. Lenin, blew up balloons, made decorative lighting from colored fluorescent indicators. It turned out nicely and cozy. But there’s no festive mood.

Right from Red Square, our families came to TsUP for a meeting with us. Lyusya looks so beautiful. Seryozha, Tolya’s son, was first on the line, then Lida, and Lyusya is silent. Mom came. TsUP gave Lyusya a branch of rowan berries, and I gave her a festive balloon. Then Vitalik says: “Papa, ride the balloon!” I sat on it, picked up a melon they’d sent us for the holiday, and Tolya pulled me by the string. The children were delighted, laughing. Then Vitalik reported that he’d finished the school term well and would try to do even better next time.

Between sessions, the station is silent. No desire to talk, no desire to turn on music. At the next session, we symbolically drank to Lyusya’s health with juice from a flask and showed how it’s done in space. Lida sits there hugging Lyusya. They so didn’t want to leave — they asked us to let them stay until the next session, but we say: “Rest, go home.” A session later, they unexpectedly turned on the TV to check what we were up to. Then they offered us to sing. And we all sang well together, and at the end they performed a song dedicated to our flight. Toward evening, Beregovoy came by, warmly congratulated us, and said: “You guys have already done everything. Everyone’s asking when you’ll land, saying the guys are tired, they’ve started feeling sorry for you. So your task is to cheer up and look livelier on the screens. Right?”

Blagov said that the State Commission tasked them with landing us “on the bullseye” — as precisely as possible, since the landing will be at night. At the end of the session, Georgy Timofeyevich says: “Guys, everyone is very happy, pleased with your work.”