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"In January, she herself was wounded while pulling troops out from under a mortar barrage. . . The other picked up the girl. " . . The old woman, flattened by the devastating blow to her legs, emitted a piercing scream and crawled toward her granddaughter, leaving a bloody trail in her wake. OMON troops, together with Chechen women who had run out from the house next-door, bandaged her. At a distance of about a hundred meters from the wounded, some of the troops dispersed to either side. .

" . "Screw you!" grumbled the old woman. The Doc

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rushed out to meet Vovka and carefully took hold of the girl. In his long years as a physician, Doc had seen a great

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deal of blood - particularly in the last few months. "It's just that I'll never get used to the fact that I'm not really a woman anymore. What do you think, can we give her promedol?" . " . He knew that in their hurry,

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he and Sanya could easily have "overlooked" more than one hideous surprise. OMON troops, together with Chechen women who had run out from the house next-door, bandaged her. .

Or the wheelbarrow may have shielded them - see, it looks like a sieve. "She only has her grandmother," replied a hefty OMON trooper of around forty with the classic look of a company first sergeant. The five year-old girl, who stood scarcely taller than the wheelbarrow itself, skipped merrily alongside. The OMON troops, having taken cover behind the armor of the BTR and using their field glasses to observe first

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the "green area" and

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then the wounded, were quietly

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discussing the event: . . "She must be 100 years old, if a day, and probably can't see a damned thing, the blind old fool. She could hardly pass by a single flower that caught her fancy without stooping over to pick it.

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Or the wheelbarrow may have shielded them - see, it looks like a sieve. The Doc rushed out to meet Vovka and carefully took hold of the girl.

. The old woman, dressed in typically dark village clothing, pushed a wheelbarrow filled with rubble. Take care of yourself. . ' And imagine, her husband served right here in this hospital," the outgoing informant explained, adding with gusto "the j-jerk!" . . The weak-sighted old woman bent over sideways, trying to make out what her granddaughter had seen, and at just that moment heard someone shouting from the guard posts outside the commandant's office, nearly unseen behind mounds of trash. What do you think, can we give her promedol?" . " With that, she firmly shoved her barrow forward and tilted it on its side to quickly dump the load.

" But meeting Chopin's cold, restrained stare, he quickly pretended to be preoccupied and headed

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for the exit. Doc and the girl - get into it. 5 Character in a well-known Russian children's film . . Heart failure.

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What do you think, can we give her promedol?" . Dudayev's security forces killed her mother too. Chopin suddenly grew angry. .

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. "Do you really think I still look alright?" . He spoke briefly with those in charge of the work details, then got onto the running board of the Ural and glanced around. . One of them quickly administered promedol to the old woman and applied tourniquets to her shins. "Do you really think I still look alright?" . Something banged. x x x . Around

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two hundred meters from the commandant's office an old woman and a small girl walked through a wasteland scarred with ditches and littered with smashed bricks.

. . Meanwhile, the talkative trooper pulled out an imposing

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knife, removed some turf with precise, circular cuts, and carefully laid it to the side. . " . "What do you want me to do - cart this stuff back home? Right, and now. "Oh, damn, was that ever a direct hit!" he drawled out with a mixture of reproach and sympathy. He then loosened the soil around an unknown object and, inserting his fingers beneath it, smoothly extracted a brown, ebonite-like cylinder from the ground.

"They're alive and still breathing! Look - here's shrapnel from the mine!" . " But meeting Chopin's cold, restrained stare, he quickly pretended to be

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preoccupied and headed for the exit. The combat engineers had already stretched a wire obstacle along the edge of the minefield. . . "Oh, look, Grandma, a string!" . . She was no longer crying but quivered spasmodically from repressed sobs.

"Shit, those combat engineers are walking one very fine line! After all, who hasn't planted mines out there - the Chechens, our guys - yet there are no sketches or maps! The Devil himself couldn't figure things out!" . . At a distance of about a hundred meters from the wounded, some of the troops dispersed to either side. "Well, it's time for me to go.

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springs Doc and the girl - get into it. "Oh, look, Grandma, a string!" . . "Don't be a fool! When was the last time that you looked at yourself in the mirror? Someday you'll meet someone - maybe even more than one "someone" - who will just kiss your feet! And if he's a real man, not some shit like your ex, he'll adore your scars. 9 Dzhokhar Dudayev, the leader of the Chechen separatists until his death in 1996 . Sanya lugged the old woman. The other picked up the girl. .

Squatting in a group by the BTR, his troops talked in hushed voices and passed around the last cigarette from a pack that they had crumpled and thrown away. . As for children, there is your Goddaughter - an orphan - along with half a town of kids just like her.

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. She was no longer crying but quivered spasmodically from repressed sobs. He then loosened the soil around

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an unknown object and, inserting his fingers beneath it, smoothly extracted a brown, ebonite-like cylinder from the ground. .

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He hoisted her onto his back, carefully watching beneath his feet and silently listening to her wail as he went. . . Upon returning to the commandant's office, Chopin ordered his driver to take him to the limits of the surrounding guard posts. "Apparently no surprises this time. .

And tell them to find 'em quickly," Chopin

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barked over

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his shoulder while assisting the doctor. They'll beat a path to your door with fire and signal flares - even in the daytime!" . And don't be such a bonehead!" . While talking, the combat engineers performed a cursory examination of the wounded. An OZM fragmentation mine that had long awaited its appointed hour hurled thousands of steel fragments in all directions. The combat engineers had already stretched a wire obstacle along the edge of the minefield.

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.

Something for temporary gratification. "Do

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you really think I still look alright?" . But they poured forth regardless, and she abruptly rose and ran back inside. It won't hurt - just hang on, Little One!" . . "Hang on, Little One, hang on! Don't be afraid! I'm your uncle - and a good one! In just a minute our Doctor Aibolit will check you over and give you some candy. "Well, it's time for me to go. . Cut her stomach all apart. And don't be such a bonehead!" . .

He fixed his eyes on something distant above the heads of his men, but without really seeing it. . "She said, `Grandma, there's a string!' Oh, what an old fool I am! What have I done to deserve such a punishment? Dear God, may I die a terrible death, but please save our little darling!" . . As if to answer him, mortars began to thump somewhere beyond Grozniy's air-port, filling the air with their deadly rustle and nauseating, heart-rending wail. . In his long years as a physician, Doc had seen a great deal of blood - particularly in the last few months. . ". "Don't know, Vovka. "Ask them where the little girl's parents are.

She was

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no longer crying but quivered

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spasmodically from repressed sobs. " . "In January, she herself was wounded while pulling troops out from under a mortar barrage. . . But on that day, he just felt agitated and knew that he was not alone. He had taken off his "sphere," which was black with sweat inside, and placed his automatic weapon on his knees. He hoisted her onto his back, carefully watching beneath his feet and silently listening to her wail as he went. The Doc rushed out to meet Vovka and carefully took hold of the girl. "She only has her grandmother,"

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replied a hefty OMON trooper of around forty with the classic look of a company first sergeant. The guys who survive this war

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will be searching for women just like you.

"You take care of yourself too, my friend.

' And imagine, her husband served right here in this hospital," the outgoing informant explained, adding with gusto "the j-jerk!" .

". It's not too serious,

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but there may be pulmonary bleeding," Aibolit told the commander, as he finished bandaging the girl. The vibration is less. The commander's long, sensitive fingers, which he held on the forward stock of his automatic rifle as if it were the neck of a guitar, left no doubt about the source of his personal callsign,

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which had long since become his second name.

He spoke briefly with those in charge of the work details, then got onto the running board of the Ural and glanced around. . Chopin clutched

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her to his breast and stroked her hair, saying, "I'm sorry, but I didn't know. Take care of yourself. . . But they poured forth regardless, and she abruptly rose and ran back inside. Meanwhile, the talkative trooper pulled out an imposing knife, removed some turf with precise, circular cuts, and carefully laid

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it to the side. . "Shit, those combat engineers are walking one very fine line! After all, who hasn't planted mines out there - the Chechens, our guys - yet there are no sketches or maps! The Devil himself couldn't figure things out!" .

. Take care of yourself.

. . . Meanwhile, the talkative trooper pulled out an imposing knife, removed some turf with precise, circular cuts, and carefully laid it to the side.

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The obstacle consisted of lengths of telephone cable and sections of critically scarce barbed wire, and it bore fresh warning signs in Russian and Chechen that fluttered in the wind. 6 Ural-4320 - a five-ton truck widely used by Russian military and paramilitary forces . . " . The five year-old girl, who stood scarcely taller than the wheelbarrow itself, skipped merrily alongside.

"Still, you gotta try to rescue them.

Just rush her to the doctor, he'll sort things out!" . The combat engineers had already stretched a wire obstacle along the edge of the minefield.

. Men from the commandant's office ran over via a circuitous route, skirting the minefield. He spoke briefly with those in charge of the work details, then got onto the running board of the Ural and glanced around. Meanwhile, the talkative trooper pulled out an imposing knife, removed some turf with precise, circular

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cuts, and carefully laid it to the side. . Doc and the girl - get into it. . "Don't mess with the rest of them, there's no time to screw around.

Meanwhile, the talkative trooper pulled out an imposing knife, removed some turf with precise, circular cuts, and carefully laid it to the side.

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