Book: The dawns here are quiet...

Homeland it is not the channel begins. Not there. And we defended it. It first, and then to the channel.

Beautiful rarely happy there.

Sometimes grief - that shaggy bear. Fell, tearing, tormented - the world will newsvideo... And roll - and nothing like you can breathe, live, act. As it was not.
And sometimes a trifle mistake. A trifle, but a trifle this that pulls that God forbid anyone.

So she left her childhood, and with it old friends. And Lisa was sad and scary, because she didn't know what replaces the child.

Liza long saw that blue beautiful sky. Gagging, I spat out the dirt and stretched, reaching for him, reaching and believing.
Above the trees floated slowly the sun rays fell on the marsh, and Lisa the last time I saw his light is warm, unbearably bright, as the promise of tomorrow. Up to the last moment believed that it will be tomorrow and for her...

She waited almost calmly, firmly believing that nothing can happen. All her upbringing had been directed to wait only happy endings: doubts about the success for her generation it was almost betrayal. She had, of course, to feel fear and uncertainty, but an inner conviction in the successful outcome was always stronger than the actual circumstances.

Took an axe (Oh, the blades are not captured on the case!), went to stones place for graves to look for. I looked, I poteryalsya - rocks alone, not get at. However, the pit was found. Cut branches, covered with the bottom's back.
- A student was, said Thinking. Is a straight a student and in school and at University.
"Yes," nodded the foreman. - Poetry reading.
And I thought to myself, this is not important. And most importantly, what could Sonya give birth to children, and those would be grandchildren and great-grandchildren, and now will not have this strings. Tiny strings in an endless yarn of humanity, cut with a knife...

There was that mysterious moment when one event into another, when reason is replaced by the result when it comes case. In ordinary life people never notice it, but in war, where the nerves are stretched to the limit, where the first life cut out the primitive meaning of existence is to survive, a minute is this real, physically tangible and forever.

- Well, what you really are! My mother is a health worker...
- No mom. The war is, the Germans are, I am, Sergeant Vaskov. But mom's not. Mom those are, you survive. I speak clearly?

A dream realized is always devoid of romance.