«And he could easily serve until retirement, then - a house somewhere near Toulon. A garden with paved paths, flowerbeds with geraniums, or whatever… Chess club on the weekends. Feed the pigeons. But no, they gave me a tank, they sent me to the end of the world in these endless ice, hold your questions, they say, you will find yourself in place - go for the platoon commander, he knows everything, explains and shows
. On the spot it turned out that I was the platoon leader. I don’t like this expedition, I feel in my gut that instead of feeding the pigeons, I risk feeding the crows here. Are there crows here? Is there anything alive here?

Why am I writing this, no one will read it anyway. When will this damn blizzard stop?»