Julia Drunina. (№ 368922)

Just came in from the front
Wet, cold and angry,
But in the dugout there was nobody,
And, of course, the stove fades.
So sick - not raise hands,
Not until the wood will get warm under the coat.
Lay down, but hear that again
In the trenches our hit with shrapnel.
From the dugout run out into the night,
And I rushed towards the flames.
I meet those who can help
I have quiet hands.
And that again till morning
Death crawl with me around,
Casually: "well Done, sister!" -
Shout me comrades in the award.
Yes, shining Kombat
My hands stretch out after the fight:
Chief, dear! I'm happy
Again, you're alive!