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. Sanya lugged the old woman. And a few in the legs too. . x x x . 1 OZM - an antipersonnel fragmentation mine of the "bouncing Betty" type . Something for temporary gratification. . . .

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. "Still, you gotta try to rescue them. " . . . At a distance of about a hundred meters from the wounded, some of the troops dispersed to either side. .

They sewed her up, all right, but what kind of plastic surgery can you do in a cellar by candlelight? So now she can't have children. . . "Why the hell did she crawl out there? Look, one "Mines!" warning sign is posted there, and out further is another.

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debt consolidation counseling "Shit, those combat engineers are walking one very

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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!" . He hoisted her onto his back, carefully watching beneath his feet and silently listening to her wail as he went. Gather them together and give them love. As for children,

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there is your Goddaughter - an orphan - along with half a town of kids just like her. Doc and the girl -

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get into it. "Still, you gotta try to rescue them. 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.

At a distance of about a hundred

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meters from the wounded, some of the troops dispersed to either side. His fingers trembled as

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he attempted to light a cigarette. " .

A Ural truck and the escorts' BTR were waiting for them on the road, across from the site of the incident. Heart failure. Or the wheelbarrow may have shielded them - see, it looks like a sieve. 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. . . One of the men made his way silently, while the other, without dropping his guard for so much as a second, muttered to himself: . .

Chopin got up and nearly raced after the nurse, who was standing by the window at the end of the corridor. "Don't mess with the rest of them, there's no time to screw around. . Then he said, "Let's go!" and slammed the door. . Chopin nodded silently. 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. Around 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. The commander's long, sensitive fingers, which he held on the forward stock of his automatic rifle as

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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.

9 Dzhokhar Dudayev, the leader

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of the Chechen separatists until his death in 1996 . But then Mikhalych, our chief doctor, got rid of him, saying: `I can find other physicians, but they should be human beings too. One of the

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men made his way silently, while the other, without dropping his guard for so much as a second, muttered to himself: . Chopin rubbed his temples with his hands and stood there briefly. Something for temporary gratification.

. It won't hurt - just hang on, Little One!" . " With that,

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she firmly shoved her barrow forward and tilted it on its side to quickly dump the load. . There aren't that many real men around,

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either. " .

The obstacle consisted of lengths of telephone cable

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and sections of critically scarce barbed wire, and it bore fresh warning signs in Russian and Chechen that fluttered in the wind. One of the men made his way silently, while the other, without dropping his guard for so much as a second, muttered to himself: . " . Just rush her to the doctor, he'll sort things out!" . Chopin was sitting on the porch of a two-story field hospital. Following on the heels of the standard expressions of consolation that she had come to despise, this unexpected dressing down affected the nurse in an equally unexpected way. His fingers trembled as he attempted to light a cigarette. One of them quickly administered promedol to the old woman and applied tourniquets to her shins.

As for children, there is your Goddaughter - an orphan - along with half a town of kids just like her. 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. . 9 Dzhokhar Dudayev, the leader of the Chechen separatists until his death in 1996 . . " .

But they poured

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forth regardless, and she abruptly rose and ran back inside. The vibration is less. They'll beat a path to your door with fire and signal flares - even in the daytime!" .

But Vovka, nicknamed "Daddy-Well-Done",

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was running his own race, knowing that his five-year-old sweetheart Natashka and one-week-old twins - who had not yet even seen their

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father - were waiting for him at home, far away. His fingers trembled as he attempted to light a cigarette. He spoke briefly with those in charge of the work details, then got onto the running board of the Ural and glanced around. . He hoisted her onto his back, carefully watching beneath his feet and silently listening to her wail as he went. . " But meeting

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Chopin's cold, restrained stare, he quickly pretended to be preoccupied and headed for the exit. Chopin clutched her to his breast and stroked her hair, saying, "I'm sorry, but I didn't know. ' And imagine, her husband served right here in this hospital," the outgoing informant explained, adding with gusto "the j-jerk!" . " .

"The women say her father was killed while fighting in the anti-Dudayev opposition. . Look, the old woman is

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still moving, sort-of. .

She was no longer crying but quivered spasmodically from repressed sobs. ' And imagine, her husband served right here in this hospital," the outgoing informant explained, adding with gusto "the j-jerk!" . "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!" . . 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. Chopin was sitting on the porch of a two-story field hospital. His fingers trembled as he attempted to light a cigarette. "Fuck the old hag! But it looks like the youngster has had it. They'll beat a path to your door with fire and signal flares - even in the daytime!" . .

.

"The mine may have stuck rather than bouncing up the way it should

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.

Following on the heels of the standard expressions of consolation that she had come to despise, this unexpected dressing down affected the nurse in an equally unexpected way. "Apparently no surprises this time.

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

And you're a real human being. "Ask them where the little girl's parents are.

Next to those vehicles stood "Chopin" - the OMON commander - and the doctor from the commandant's office, whom everyone respectfully called "Doc" to his face but "Aibolit" behind his back.

"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!" . The guys who survive this

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war will be searching for women just like you. ' And imagine, her husband served right here in this hospital," the outgoing informant explained, adding with gusto "the j-jerk!" . . And you're a real human being. Something banged. . .

" With that, she firmly shoved her barrow forward and tilted it on its side to quickly dump the load. And don't be such a bonehead!" . 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.

Vovka dashed through the corridor hastily cut across the minefield, zigzagging gracefully between the marker flags like a downhill skier.

. .

. Cut

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her stomach all apart. . . He spoke briefly with those in charge of the work details, then got onto the running board of the Ural and glanced around.

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. "Why the hell did she crawl out there? Look, one "Mines!" warning sign is posted there, and out further is another.

And a few in the legs too. One of the men made his way silently, while the other, without dropping his guard for so much as a second, muttered to himself: . "She took hits in the throat and the right side of the chest. 4 Nickname for Vladimir . " . Have you come for something?" She made an attempt to smile and wiped away what remained of her tears with the palm of her hand. 8 OMON - elite special purpose forces within the Russian police . "Why the hell did she crawl out there? Look, one "Mines!" warning sign is posted there, and out further is another. But after an instant of hesitation, Chopin issued a staccato order: .

5 Character in a well-known Russian children's film . As for children, there is your Goddaughter - an orphan - along with half a town of kids just like her. "Ask them where

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the little girl's parents are. . Dudayev's security

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forces killed her mother too.

Men from the commandant's office ran over via a circuitous route, skirting the minefield. OMON troops, together with Chechen women who had run out from the house next-door, bandaged her. Aibolit went into the corridor, smiled knowingly, and squinted approvingly at the two,

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as if to say, "What a great guy the commander is - he certainly knows our personnel. . 7 BTR-80 - an armored personnel carrier . . Squatting

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in a group by the BTR, his troops talked in hushed voices and passed around the last cigarette from a pack that they

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had crumpled and thrown away. . . . .

An OZM fragmentation mine that had long awaited its appointed hour hurled thousands

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of steel fragments in all directions. 9 Dzhokhar Dudayev, the leader of the Chechen separatists until his death in 1996 . Men from the commandant's office ran over via a circuitous route, skirting the minefield. Next to those vehicles stood "Chopin" - the OMON commander - and the doctor from the

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commandant's office, whom everyone respectfully called "Doc" to his face but "Aibolit" behind his back.
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