One day trip. One-day business trip Travel expenses for one business day

The legislation does not limit the duration of business trips to a minimum period. A business trip can be long, with many days of living in another area, or it can last less than a day - it depends on the complexity and volume of the assignment. We will talk about the features of one-day business trips in our article.

Business trip for 1 day: registration

A business trip of an employee to another location at the direction of the manager, in which the dates of his departure and return coincide, is called a one-day business trip. It is issued in the same way as a regular business trip, in the manner prescribed by law and the local act of the enterprise:

travel order is issued
an employee sent on a business trip is given accountable funds in cash from the cash desk, or by transferring money to his bank card,
upon return, the employee draws up an advance report with documents confirming the expenses incurred by him on the trip.

A one-day business trip should not be confused with permanent work on the road, or of a traveling nature (for example, train conductors, freight forwarders, drivers, etc.), for which travel documents are not required (Article 166 of the Labor Code of the Russian Federation).

Business trip for one day: how to pay

When sending an employee on a business trip for several days, the employer must reimburse him (Article 168 of the Labor Code of the Russian Federation):

travel expenses to the place of business trip and back,
expenses for accommodation in a hotel or for renting an apartment,
per diem,
other expenses agreed with the employer.

If the duration of the business trip is 1 day, then the employee usually does not need to pay for the rental of housing, although, if necessary, he can coordinate this issue with the employer by providing a rental agreement, hotel checks, etc. upon arrival.

Daily allowances are not paid to an employee sent for 1 day. For a one-day business trip abroad, per diems are provided, but only in the amount of 50% of the established norm for business trips abroad (paragraphs 11 and 20 of the Regulations on business trips, approved by Decree of the Government of the Russian Federation dated 13.10.2008 No. 749). Instead of per diems, the employer, by an internal act (order, collective agreement), can establish compensation for one-day business trips, and such a concept as “per diem” should not be used in the document - otherwise these travel expenses cannot be included in income tax expenses (letter of the Ministry of Finance of the Russian Federation dated May 26, 2014 No. 03-03-06/1/24916).

Compensation that replaces per diem for a one-day business trip can be established by the employer in any amount, while it must be borne in mind that it will not be subject to personal income tax within the following norms (clause 3 of article 217 of the Tax Code of the Russian Federation, letter of the Ministry of Finance of the Russian Federation dated 01.10.2015 No. 03- 04-06/56259):

business trip in Russia - 700 rubles,
business trip abroad - 2500 rubles.

If an employee has a business trip for one day, how is this day paid and noted in the report card?

According to Art. 167 of the Labor Code of the Russian Federation, the average salary is retained for the employee during the business trip. In addition to compensation, the seconded person will receive his average salary for the day of the business trip if it falls on a working day, and if the business trip coincides with a public holiday or a day off, payment is made in double the amount.

In the report card, the employee's stay on a one-day business trip is marked with the code "06" or the letter "K". The number of hours in this case does not need to be indicated, since the payment for the day of the business trip is still made according to average earnings.

Example

An internal order at Alpha LLC sets the amount of compensation for one-day business trips in the amount of 700 rubles. Orlov, an employee of Alfa LLC, went on a business trip from Moscow to Klin by train at 6:30 am on Monday morning. At 8-00 he arrived at the place, spent the whole working day in Klin, completing the task, and left at 19-00, arriving in Moscow at 20-30. Upon arrival, Orlov provided an advance report, to which he attached tickets, proof of travel expenses.

The accounting department must accrue and pay Orlov the following amounts:

average earnings for 1 working day,

compensation in the amount of 700 rubles,

the cost of tickets for the train, according to the advance report.

FIRST BUSINESS TRIP

In life, sometimes it happens when something is the first time. This is the first class, the first love, the beginning of labor activity, the first paycheck, and so on and so forth. Some of this first quickly disappears from my head, but something is remembered for a lifetime. I will not be mistaken that for most this, of course, is the first love. Well, then, how the card will fall.

Often, even to ourselves, we cannot explain why, after many years, we remember certain insignificant facts from our lives. For example, I still remember that my first grade in school was a C in calligraphy. For the very fact of getting the first grade and not a deuce, they even bought me a watermelon as a reward as a reward, which, however, was eaten by everyone, not just me.

However, he digressed. My story is about another memory, namely, about the first business trip in my life. Of course, not so hot what an event, especially since then there were plenty of them. But this was the first independent trip from work, and even with the issuance of travel allowances.

So, more to the point. I was unexpectedly offered to go and check the personnel orders at the enterprises of Turkmenmebel. In addition to Ashgabat itself, furniture enterprises in the cities of Mary and Chardzhou were to be visited. One had to go.

I was worried, but also pleased with such an assignment: still, to escape from the tedious work and go to Central Asia at the state expense, where I had never been before and did not plan to be.

As I remember now, April has just come. Snow was still everywhere on the ground, but it had already begun to melt.

The plane took off from Domodedovo early in the morning. Therefore, at eleven o'clock in the evening, I went to the Aeroport metro station. Next to this station was the Central City Air Terminal. Air passengers were registered there for all domestic flights and delivered by bus to the ramps of aircraft departing from Moscow's Domodedovo, Vnukovo, Sheremetyevo and Bykovo airports. It was convenient, by the way, and even very.

Without tension, he rumbled the night in the terminal building, it was good to sit somewhere, and at five o'clock in the morning registration for our flight began. At six we left for Domodedovo, and at seven o'clock we took off. Our plane IL-18 was filled with a maximum of one third. This is the only case in my entire life when I flew in an almost empty plane. On the way, we still had to make an intermediate landing in Baku.

Naturally, I stuck to the window and looked with all my eyes at the ground, rare clouds. It's interesting. The ground below was at first all white with snow, then after half an hour black thawed patches began to appear on it, and soon the snow disappeared altogether. In this flight, everything was extremely interesting, including when we were fed breakfast on the plane. This was also the first time for me.

When we landed in Baku, spring was already in full swing there: green lawns and even trees with young leaves.

Spring also reigned in Ashgabat, which I was convinced of when I got off the ladder. But on the tops of the Kopetdag, while the snow lay. These snow-capped peaks looked beautiful.

At the airport, no one recognized me as an important guest from Moscow: apparently, I didn’t come out in disguise. So I got to the furniture factory myself. I came there, but there was no management: the director was on vacation, and the chief engineer went to the airport to meet the Moscow auditor, that is, me. In a way, but it is, by the way. Soon the chief engineer returned to the factory and we got to know each other.

How the verification took place is not important. After all, this is not a trip report.

The city itself, except for people dressed in national robes and headdresses, did not impress with anything special: I did not see any ancient architecture on the streets. And this is not surprising: the fact is that during the terrible earthquake of 1948, the entire Ashgabat was actually wiped off the face of the earth. Little has been preserved. The newly built five-story residential buildings were like ours. Only nature, and the local bazaar differed significantly. Yes, the bazaar shocked with its noise and oriental diversity: they sold a lot of greens, radishes, spring flowers, dried fruits, nuts, last year's melons, etc.

Having done all the work, he flew to the city of Mary. There, to be honest, I was struck only by the airfield. The fact is that it was simultaneously used by both civilians and the military.

When we landed and began to roll across the field towards the air terminal, I suddenly saw with surprise from the window real military aircraft, around which people in army uniforms were swarming. They hang rockets, carried bombs in cradles. This was also the first time and, by the way, never happened again.

The city of Mary also struck me, but with a minus sign: entirely one-story buildings made of clay. Well, nothing interesting.

From Mary to the city of Chardjou had to go by train Krasnovodsk-Tashkent. On the forecourt I saw the most real gypsy camp with carts and horses. Just like in the movies. The local Turkmens, nodding in the direction of the gypsies, clearly disapproved of the latter, considering them parasites.

Soon my train arrived, and for the first time in my life I drove through a real sandy desert. There was no greenery, occasionally saxaul trees without leaves could be seen. Tall dunes surrounded the railroad tracks from all sides. Because of them, nothing really was visible - only bare slopes, everything was lifeless. As soon as the sun disappeared below the horizon, it almost immediately became dark. It was pitch dark, you couldn't see anything.

We arrived in Chardjou late in the evening. As it turned out later, it was the most Russian city in all of Turkmenistan. After all, gas was produced nearby, which was then pumped through the pipeline to the central part of the USSR. Many Russian specialists worked at the gas field itself, at compressor stations and other related enterprises, even at a furniture factory, where I came with an inspection.

This city, of course, differed from Mary for the better, but did not see any Asian exotic. Is that the wayward Amu Darya - one of the largest rivers in Central Asia. In those days, the Karakum Canal was just being built, so the river was still navigable in this place.

That, perhaps, is all that I remember in that first business trip of my life.

There was no direct flight from Chardzhou to Moscow. Therefore, I had to get home through Ashgabat.

Yes, on this first trip I had to fly a lot on an airplane. Even the ears were no longer blocked from a sharp change in atmospheric pressure.

I wasn't bored. Of course, when compared with some subsequent business trips, this first was one of the most ordinary. But she was the first, and what awaited me in the future, I could not know.

First business trip

This book is about the Great Patriotic War. Its main character is scout Vitaly Samarin. A lawyer by education, he graduated from the institute just before the war, he did not immediately become a scout. His professional development, full of dangers and surprises, is described in this work.

The novel "The First Business Trip" was awarded the first prize of the USSR State Security Committee.

“Reconnaissance is work. Very difficult and dangerous. This is a constant improvisation of the mind, subject, however, to the strictest discipline. This is a constant tension of the nerves, which you need to get used to, like breathing ...

The main thing in the work of a scout is that time when it is quiet and calm around him, and he, outwardly inconspicuous to anyone, does his state business, living simultaneously two lives - his own and the one given to him by legend, having one heart for these two lives, one nervous system, one supply of vitality, and when his main and formidable weapon is the mind. First of all, the mind. And not only him, but also the mind of his associates and leaders ... "

From a recording of a conversation with Soviet intelligence officer R. Abel

CHAPTER FIRST

Vitaly Samarin was issued a travel letter for a postal-passenger train. It stretches like a horse, does not miss a single station. And another station is only a strip of land trampled down in a green meadow along the rails, where sparrows bathe in the dust and a shed at a distance. And the train stops here for a long time. Through the open window comes the flute of a lark, invisible in the pale sky, and no more sound. And then the train slowly, slowly, as if it were sorry to part with this obscure station, moves on - a woman floats in the window in a scarf tied low on her forehead, at her feet a bag of mail and a lonely parcel - because of this they stood.

Vitaly Samarin is in a hurry to a small town near the Polish border, where his independent life will begin. He wants to quickly get away from his childhood, youth, and even from his recent student days in law, when so much important happened in his life. All this seems to him only an approach to life, which will begin tomorrow.

When does a person begin his independent life? Probably different people feel it in their own way. For Vitaly, everything that happened yesterday is connected with his mother, with whom he lived together, feeling more and more acutely the responsibility for her, who gave her life to him. In recent years, his dream was to live for his mother, repaying her with love for love, care for care. For this, he hurries into an independent life and wants to get away from childhood and youth as soon as possible, not yet understanding that this will always be with him, that his mother’s love is leading him to an independent life now and will remain with him there too. And he naively thinks that all his past ended yesterday, when he kissed his mother's face at the station, as in childhood, feeling salty tears on his lips. And there, behind, along with his mother, remained his school in a quiet side street on Taganka, where he went for ten years, and his old Moscow house with a cramped courtyard, where, squinting, stands a hollow poplar, and Lucy, with whom he was at the station he busily said goodbye by the hand, without really saying anything to her. He thinks that he is being led away from all this by the travel order in his pocket, in which he is called a lieutenant, and an extract from the order for appointment to the district department of the NKVD in a distant town.

The rigid wagon in which he rides is densely populated and motley. There are five other people in the compartment besides him. No, not five, but six - a large-bodied woman with crimson cheeks, sitting opposite him, holds a screaming child in her arms, who fell silent only when she thrust her massive white breasts into his screaming mouth. Then, choking on milk, he began to coo in a dull voice and immediately fell asleep, and after him the mother dozed lightly, throwing back her martyr's face and not hiding her chest properly. Vitaly shyly turned away.

The chaotic traffic conversation did not subside in the compartment, now and then exploding in a noisy argument. The main disputants were a stocky man in metal glasses on a wide nose, who called himself a procurer from the very town where Vitaly was in a hurry, and a sharp-faced, bald-headed man in a crumpled linen jacket sitting next to the woman. No matter what that stocky man with glasses said, the bald one immediately stepped in: “You, my dear, are wrong,” and they, instantly inflamed, began to shout at the same time and without listening to each other.

The train has left the station. Chunky said:

But it is unprofitable for the state to carry letters on trains - a penny mark is on the letter, but take it to hell, to Kamchatka,

You, my dear, are wrong, - Sharp-faced immediately started up. - It would be unprofitable, they wouldn’t take it, our state does everything with the calculation. Moreover, a stamp is a penny, and there are millions of letters, here, brother, what a penny is made up of!

Do you know how much one steam locomotive costs to drive it back and forth, across the whole country? And the wagons? And the staff? That's all your pennies burned.

You're wrong, - sharp-faced shook his head. - A steam locomotive, it carries us with you, but we didn’t pay a penny for it, but rubles, and there are a whole train of people like us!

And off they went, until they got so bogged down in their argument that they had nothing more to say.

Twilight came on unnoticed. Vitaly began to feel sleepy, but that was not the case - the debaters wound up on a new topic - will there be a war or everything will work out?

What kind of war? With whom is the war? Why war? yelled Sharp-faced in a rattling, cold voice, and his Adam's apple bobbed about on his thin neck. - We are peaceful people, we don’t touch anyone, we even sing in songs that we don’t want that war.

Is there war from songs? - The sharp-faced turned so sharply to his opponent that he pushed the child, and he yelled in a good obscenity.

Blocking his cry, Chunky, raising his finger instructively, shouted:

Nothing happens in vain with us, and songs are also not so easy to sing. - He pushed the dozing Vitaly: - Here you are, I'm sorry, you are of military age, tell us, are you ready for war?

Ready, what? - Vitaly answered with a challenge,

Have you been prepared?

But how!

Aha! Do you see, sir? They were prepared, therefore, the war is quite possible and even planned, but we do nothing without a plan! Am I right, young man?

At this time, the mother, in a tried and tested way, calmed her baby, and it became so quiet that everyone heard him swallowing milk and sniffling.

I just don’t understand something, - Vitaly spoke quietly, but not at all peacefully, turning to Chunky, - why are you talking about the war like that, as if you desperately need it? For a Soviet person, war is a disaster, it will thwart all our plans for a new life.

And in your opinion, it turns out that if we don’t want it, it won’t happen? - he picked up, - Will you order to be silent about the war? And why, then, almost every day, TASS reports about violations of air borders? And what about Comrade Stalin's conversation with a foreign figure, what did we read in the newspaper just now? So it turns out: from all sides they tell us not to doze off, and you, a man of military age, whom, you yourself said, were preparing for war, look away from that war?

Yes, we are all taught to be vigilant, but there is no need to sow panic, it only plays into the hands of our enemies! - Vitaly said harshly and nailed Chunky with an evil, screwed up look.

Showing complete indifference on his face, Chunky began to look out the dark, blind window. Witface stood up and began to straighten his bed on the top bunk.

First business trip

New appointment

In 1979, I was chief of staff of a division in the North Caucasus. Afghanistan occupied the same place in my life as in the lives of other people. TV reports from there for me were among the many messages transmitted from abroad about what was happening in the world, and I did not pay much attention to the events taking place there.

The names of Taraki, Amin and other political figures of Afghanistan did not tell me anything at all, although they sounded more and more often. I am sure that the senior officers and generals who then served in the areas bordering Afghanistan watched what was happening on the opposite bank of the Amu Darya more closely from a professional point of view. I, seeing on the TV screen the swarthy faces and carefree Afghan children, envied the abundance of the sun and, swearing, remembered that we had December slush and rain with snow in our yard.

I had enough worries of the chief of staff of the division. I gave almost the whole day to the service. In short, then I was not up to Afghanistan. At that time, I did not yet know that the rapidly developing situation in Afghanistan would not only determine my fate to some extent, but would also remain an unhealed lacerated wound in the memory of hundreds of thousands of our compatriots.

On December 28, together with several officers and generals, I was returning from the district headquarters after the traditional summing up of the year. While flying from Rostov-on-Don, we exchanged news that we managed to find out. Someone said that last night our troops crossed the border and set foot on the territory of Afghanistan. Apparently, another group of our troops abroad has been formed. As always in such cases, the reasons for the introduction of troops were vaguely indicated: to help the people of a friendly country in repelling an attack from outside and to protect their own southern borders. This news did not surprise me or the other officers. It is likely that there is every reason to send troops. However, who of those who flew then in our plane knew about this? I can’t say why, but some sixth sense told me that someone, but me, could not avoid serving in this very limited contingent.

The year 1980 has come. The press, radio, television regularly talked about the changes that took place after the entry of Soviet troops. Then I wondered: how long will all this? Nobody knew the answer. Not every district commander had an idea about the composition and tasks of the OKSV in Afghanistan, not to mention divisional officers, and about more detailed and, most importantly, truthful information. In such a situation, one had to be content with only fragments of phrases from radio voices “from behind the hillock” and rumors. Maikop, where I served at that time, began to receive information about the first dead in Afghanistan and about the atrocities of gangs against our soldiers. This came as a surprise to me - after all, the Afghans, as it was constantly said, are a friendly people to us ...

On January 16, I prepared to conduct a two-day exercise, which was to begin in the early morning of the next day. At about 5 pm, the corps commander called me. He dryly said that the Minister of Defense had signed an order appointing me chief of staff of the division now in Kabul. In four days I should be at the headquarters of the Turkestan military district and then fly from Tashkent to Afghanistan. “Go ahead. Good luck," he added and hung up.

A short conversation with the corps commander was so unexpected for me that I did not even ask what caused my new assignment. Usually, the officer who was planned to be transferred somewhere knew about it in advance through various channels. It seemed to me that I also knew my immediate prospects.

My office work went well. Of course, there were ups and downs. Nevertheless, in eight years after graduating from the M.V. Frunze Military Academy, I managed to go from battalion commander to division chief of staff. Maybe because this path is long and the time is short, and I once heard a story that I am not a simple officer, but the nephew of one of the deputy ministers of defense. One way or another, but I was ready for the fact that I would be invited to a conversation about the appointment to the post of division commander. This decision, as I have already been told, has been made. All that remained was to wait for the official order. I was perplexed: an appointment to an equivalent position, and God knows where, for what? To be honest, it was deplorable.

In the evening, returning home, he told his wife about his business trip. I didn't know when I'd be back - in a month or six months. It was necessary to go without a family, and all the wives of the military perceive this, probably, the same way. From the very beginning, they were more willing to talk about Afghanistan than go there to serve. Collections have begun. Three days later, everything was ready - one suitcase turned out. Without even having time to really say goodbye to my friends, as is customary, I flew away.

It was a real winter in Tashkent. Three hours after landing at the airport, I was already in the office of the commander of the Turkestan military district, Colonel-General Yuri Pavlovich Maksimov. He calmly and leisurely began to tell me about the upcoming service in Afghanistan. Judging by the conversation, he had firmness, intelligence and a clear mind. Perhaps, for the first time I felt respect for the officers, care for them and even warmth in the chief of this level. In my opinion, this is very important for a person leaving for the unknown.

During the day spent at the district headquarters, I tried to find out more about my new division and about the situation in the DRA. So without finding out anything, I understood only one thing: it is difficult in Afghanistan, service there is not at all the same as in the Union. In the offices and corridors of the district headquarters, they talked to me as if they had seen me for the last time. Although no one directly spoke about this, it was felt that losses of people and military equipment were expected very soon. So, you have to fight.

Everything that concerned Afghanistan, I involuntarily perceived as something in between two concepts - life and death. At night, before flying to Kabul, I decided to take a walk around the city. He walked the streets, looked at the houses, met late passers-by. I remembered the terrible earthquake that happened here a few years ago. Then the first began to clear the rubble of the military. I tried to imagine how I would have acted in such a situation, but I could not - in my thoughts I was already in Afghanistan.

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