This post has not been edited in order to maintain the authenticity of the dialect. Thank you Andrew. 


I had a bad dream. If I shoot in the dark with an BTR 80, shift on a stretcher and carried under the lights KamAZ. Tilt truck is placed next to the road. People bustling around. Hands were somehow in rubber gloves. And they are in a hurry wearing white robes and asking outsiders not to interfere.

Leaning over me doctor shakes his head and says something to the nurse. I have to health van. I feel the smell of damp earth and sharp, bitter – blood. On a nearby APC 80 are still as frozen body. Next to the armor soldiers froze in silence.

– What do you stand as driven! – Doctor yells at them. – Help the medics! The soldiers moved, surrounded BTR 80 taking your hands sorrowful burden. Narrow strips of light from the darkness snatch “cargo 200” with terrible injuries. One in the eye socket swollen huge bloody flower. My view though sticks to it. Finally at will shift focus on the living.

I suddenly want to drink vodka unbearable. Not eating. The brain for a moment disconnected from the realities of combat …

And then I woke up in a tent, which was spreading shaking under the pressure of the cold wind. Felt for himself, with a sigh of relief: unharmed, wounded only imagined. But only wounded, but otherwise sleep one to one duplicated hot events in which I was involved.

A memory continued to torment the soul, returning again and again to yesterday’s day …