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Sanya lugged the old woman. He hurtled across the killing field, holding the girl to his breast, panting and whispering in her ear: . . just a sort-of gutted flounder. Upon returning to the commandant's office, Chopin ordered his driver to take him to the limits of the surrounding guard posts. Cut her stomach all apart. 3 A narcotic antishock medication that Russian forces carry in their individual first-aid pouches . But then Mikhalych, our chief doctor, got rid of him, saying: `I can find other physicians, but they should be human beings too. "Shit,

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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!" . In his long years as a physician, Doc had seen a great deal of blood - particularly in the last few months.

" . Chopin was sitting on the porch of a two-story field hospital. "Why the hell did she crawl out there? Look, one "Mines!"

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warning sign is posted there, and out further is another. One of them quickly

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administered promedol to the old

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woman and applied tourniquets to her shins. . 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, which had long since become his second name. Just rush her to the doctor, he'll sort things out!" .

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. The old woman, dressed in typically dark village clothing, pushed a wheelbarrow filled with rubble. . . .

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. . . One of the men made his way silently, while the other, without dropping his guard for so much as a second, muttered to himself: . His fingers trembled as he attempted to light a cigarette. She was astonishingly attractive but had a tired, sullen face. The old woman, dressed in typically dark village clothing, pushed a wheelbarrow filled with rubble. Suddenly, she smiled naturally and openly at Chopin, placed her hands on his shoulders, and gazed into his eyes. "At this range it should have cut them to pieces!"

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.

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. An OZM fragmentation mine that had long awaited its appointed hour hurled thousands of steel fragments in all directions.

3 A narcotic antishock

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medication

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that Russian forces carry in their individual first-aid pouches . Upon returning to the commandant's office, Chopin ordered his driver to take him to the limits of the surrounding guard posts. Chopin clutched her to his breast and stroked her hair, saying, "I'm sorry, but I didn't know.

But the girl's all right, and she won't even have noticeable scars.

.

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. . While talking, the

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combat engineers performed a cursory examination of the wounded. . Sanya lugged the old woman. Take care of yourself. In his long years as a physician, Doc had seen a great deal of blood - particularly in the last few months. .

. "The women say her father was killed

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while fighting in the anti-Dudayev opposition. Something for temporary gratification. But Vovka, nicknamed "Daddy-Well-Done", was running his own race, knowing that his five-year-old sweetheart

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Natashka and one-week-old twins - who had not yet even seen their father - were waiting for him at home, far away. The other picked up the girl. The combat engineers had already stretched a wire obstacle along the edge of the minefield. "They're alive and still breathing! Look - here's shrapnel from the mine!" . .

. Vovka dashed through the corridor hastily cut across the

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minefield, zigzagging gracefully between the marker flags like a downhill skier. The girl lay on her back, gasping and gurgling pink bubbles. "In January, she herself was wounded while pulling troops out from under a mortar barrage.

The latter started off almost on hands and knees, intently

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peering into the grass and probing suspicious sectors

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with rods. His fingers trembled as he attempted to light a cigarette. . The obstacle consisted of lengths of telephone cable and sections of critically scarce barbed wire, and it

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bore fresh warning signs in Russian and Chechen that fluttered in the wind. . . The old woman, dressed in typically dark village clothing, pushed a wheelbarrow filled with rubble. "Apparently no surprises this time. "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"

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- who will just kiss your feet! And if he's a real man, not some

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shit like your ex, he'll adore your scars. But they poured forth regardless, and she abruptly rose and ran back inside. .

He had taken off his "sphere," which was black with sweat inside, and placed

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his automatic weapon

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on his knees. At a distance of about a hundred meters from the wounded, some of the troops dispersed to either side. . While talking, the combat engineers performed

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a cursory examination of the wounded. . Take care of yourself. " . Upon returning to the commandant's office, Chopin ordered his driver to take him to the limits of the surrounding guard posts. . " . "In January, she herself was wounded while pulling troops out from under a mortar barrage.

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"That's good - a little girl shouldn't have scars, especially on

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her chest. Something for temporary gratification. " She kissed him tenderly, as if he were a close relative

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whom she had known for a thousand years. The old

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woman, dressed in typically dark village clothing, pushed a wheelbarrow filled with rubble. just a sort-of gutted flounder. 8 OMON - elite special purpose forces within the Russian police . Suddenly, she smiled naturally and openly at Chopin, placed her hands on his

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shoulders, and gazed into his eyes. .

. 9 Dzhokhar Dudayev, the leader of the Chechen separatists until his death in 1996 . . He spoke briefly with those in charge of the work details, then got onto the running board of the Ural and glanced around. . Doc and the girl - get into it. Just mark them with flags so we don't trip them

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on the way out. The vibration is less.

And that their commander's

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lips were trembling - a commander

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who had clearly "been around" and routinely looked so bold and energetic. A strange dark object bounced up from the grass, struck the side of the wheelbarrow, careened away, and exploded in a cloud of black, fiery smoke. No, wait, she moved her hand! See how Daddy-Well-Done is

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rushing - she must still be alive!" . " . . "Screw you!" grumbled the old woman. The guys who survive this war will be searching for women just like you. Just rush her to the doctor, he'll

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sort things out!" . Chopin got up and nearly raced after the nurse, who was standing by the window at the end of the corridor. While talking, the combat engineers performed a cursory examination of the wounded.

. Upon returning to the commandant's office, Chopin ordered his

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driver to take him to the limits of the surrounding

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guard posts. . A strange dark object bounced up from the grass, struck

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the side of the wheelbarrow, careened away, and exploded in a cloud of black, fiery smoke. OMON troops, together with Chechen women who had run out from the house next-door, bandaged her. " .

He spoke briefly with those in charge of the work details, then got onto the running board of the Ural and glanced around. "In January, she herself was wounded while pulling troops out from under a mortar barrage. . Suddenly, she smiled naturally and openly at Chopin, placed her

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hands on his shoulders, and gazed into his eyes.

Daddy-Well-Done and his mates were digging in the field beyond

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the obstacle, emplacing the new mines that they had just received the day before. "She must be 100 years old, if a day,

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and probably can't see a damned thing, the blind old fool. The latter started off almost on hands and knees, intently peering into the grass and probing suspicious sectors with rods.

But they poured forth regardless, and she abruptly rose and ran back inside. He hoisted her onto his back, carefully watching beneath his feet and silently listening to her wail as he went. Vovka dashed through the corridor hastily cut across the minefield, zigzagging gracefully between the marker flags like a downhill skier. "You look lovely. The guys who survive this war will be searching for women just like you.

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"She took hits in the throat and the right side of the chest. He knew that in their hurry, he and Sanya could easily have "overlooked" more than one hideous surprise. 7 BTR-80 - an armored personnel carrier

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.

"In January, she herself was wounded while pulling troops out from under a mortar barrage. . "You look lovely. . "You look lovely. 4 Nickname for Vladimir . The other picked up the girl. x x x . And a few in the legs too.

. 1 OZM - an antipersonnel fragmentation mine of the "bouncing Betty" type . But after an instant of hesitation, Chopin issued a staccato order: . " .

" . . She was astonishingly attractive but had a tired, sullen face.

" . . . But the girl's all right, and she won't even have noticeable scars. . "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. A young, 25-year old

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nurse came out onto the porch and sat

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down next to him. .

. 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, which had long since become his second name. 10 A round titanium helmet worn by Russian special purpose forces Chopin's colorful Russian epithet literally means "ruptured condom. Just mark them with flags so we don't trip them on the way out. "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

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are no sketches or maps! The Devil himself couldn't figure things out!" .

1 OZM - an antipersonnel fragmentation mine of the "bouncing Betty" type . 1 OZM - an antipersonnel fragmentation mine of the "bouncing Betty" type . While Doc attended to her, Sanya arrived carrying the old woman. Once inside, he covered the seat with field jackets, placed the little girl on them, and dropped to his knees, intently observing his young patient and keeping his fingers on the pulse of her small, thin hand.

"They're alive and still breathing! Look - here's shrapnel from the mine!" . But then Mikhalych, our chief doctor, got rid of him, saying: `I can find

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other physicians, but they should be human beings too. " . The five year-old girl, who stood scarcely taller than the wheelbarrow

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consolidation itself, skipped merrily alongside.
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