Rus Articles Journal

Haste of

It hurried on life, and did a lot of things in flight. Very much early he met by

the dream as understanding of business which he has to live.

He was a pilot, aspired in a height and by 17 years flew on the fighter.

at the time of war it was a commonplace, the talented guy was quickly admitted to flight crew, and it is even rather, it became respected by the companions for a pressure in fight and a vertkost. He met by

it on an airfield, it was an air traffic controller and he often heard its voice in earphones, before takes off and landing. She is a little and swarty Moldavian, and it tall and strong rusich. Their novel was fleeting as summer in the war. Two times it met in the field, and then got married. Even he did not manage to make the proposal to it, is reserved.

It just suggested to go to a registry office that people did not laugh from the fact that they hold hands. It was lived in poverty and is poor, but there was a love.

However, it lacked flowers, just flowers. She raved them day and night, represented how it comes home, and gives her a bouquet of roses or magnificent collecting wild flowers. It, the wounded, did not find forces in the winter to find it flowers, he heard its request once, but postponed everything for Spring, and itself quietly swore while he put on boots. He swore on himself. Swore for the fact that cannot feed her as wants, cannot buy a bed and relieve the apartment of bugs, for what the weakling, though forces down messer of mad fascists. He felt the inequality with this little goddess, and was silent. He was silent, but something was saved in him as a spring. It is impossible to speak - enemies will hear everything! This thing it firmly acquired

at flight school, during preparation for hit in captivity.

It became reserved, but against the will. Osobista, enkavedeshnik of special department, devoured every word of pilots who flew for a front line, on the enemy territory.

Once he saw on the earth a wagon train, a country wagon train which was behind line of the front in the German territory. On a wagon train there was a young German little girl in shape, on a body probably years of fourteen. On all canons it had to shoot a wagon train, but again and again came on a bend, without pressing a machine gun trigger. It could not! She reminded him her. The little girl in a minute was shot by guerrillas, and it remained with feeling of treachery forever. He understood that it is not its war, and he should not shoot at children even if in children of those who are at war against it. But the earth which gave birth to him was captivated by enemies, and he was let in life long fight.

of the House he was silent, could not speak. Everything boiled inside, and to share with darling how blood whips from wounds of enemies, considered inappropriate. He kept silent and ran on the front. He too loved it to open, understanding that it became hardened, and became cruel during war. He did not see neither her tears at night, nor its simple requests to take a walk. Even in a dream, it shot and shot from an aviation machine gun, destroying those who killed him a family, friends, and all who was dear to it. He loved it secretly. Living nearly two years,

nearby he did not admit to it that it the most expensive to it the person.

It broke. She too loved flowers, and one captain from a staff brought her violets. First violets in the Spring! It was wonderful! It flitted with happiness, but for some reason went out at thoughts of it. She could not put these flowers of the house in a vase! It will be painful to him! It did not bring flowers, but it is that. She decided to hide a gift and put it in bank for a case. That they did not smell, on all poor room, it covered them with a towel. However, it was the only towel in the house which she embroidered for it. Having forgotten in flowers and pleasure, she forgot about it.

that evening she fell asleep, without having waited for it from the next departure. On a table there was a fried fat and two pieces of bread. I have to tell an imperial dinner! They ate bread, but Fat! He was glad to food, and wanted, having washed before going to bed to shave. She did not love its prickle on a face. When he kissed it before going to bed, he was pricked. Having washed, not having found a towel with the cross stitched patterns, he became sad. The grief was strange as though someone stole from it darling as if in heart stabbed. He sat down on knees from sudden pain. When his mother died of a consumption, and all towels in the house were impregnated with blood for her cough, he looked for towels as rescue too.

There is no towel " Again;... rushed in his head. It reeled a little on a lap,

but having come round kept and did not fall, dropped only a little sideways.

of his eye slipped under a case, and he noticed a tip of the favourite piece of matter, with an embroidery from It for It.

without being unbent, reclining, it pulled a towel from under a case.

Something tinkled, and water began to flow. For it it was as blood of the dying mother,

and it began to cry. He so never cried, did not afford.

But exhausted and given today. He silently was cried, rested in bed almost under a case and got up.

But what flew? Climbed for a case, and found the flowers scattered between splinters banks in which there was water.

Flowers...

in the Spring...

of the Violet. He everything understood

! He understood

why she fell asleep for the first time in a year, he understood why flowers are hidden,

he understood that he lost it!

It will leave as soon as wakes up - here that I feel! - he told in a voice.

But where to it to go? Her parents died from a pestilence during hunger.

the Next neighboring rooms contained so many holes that in them it was possible to die of cold, even without entering them, just from draft at an entrance.

Will leave, will leave! - rushed in his head.

What to do?

Ya I will not be able to take out it, I lost too many!

I all from - for these flowers, damned flowers!

He swore about an hour to himself in moustaches, and did not notice how morning came.

The fact that he was strongly tired was not important now.

Red of intense nights of an eye and napukhshiya from got down a nose, he was not disturbed.

Woke up It.

Was delighted that it houses that he is living also with it!

She thought how to tell it about flowers, about the captain at whom she found out over a cup of tea where they grow.
She wanted to help it and to get ready for a trip.

already told It in a staff that both of them are sent to the Crimea, to treatment.

U it sight fell, and it was impossible to lose such expert from - for the fact that he overtired.

sent them to the Crimea to rest. It was given a task to monitor its food and rest.

the Wife and a clinic in one person! to

She was glad to its new appointment, and the fact that they nearby in this world. But it was gloomy

.

She began to ask it about the last flight, without having decided to speak about appointment. He answered

something: Normally! Time is live, means they are killed! . Having slightly smiled, he asked to tea. Told it as bypassed the three of the German planes, on Pokryshkin`s school, his first and favourite teacher of flight business. All three it shot

on shaving . Such way to fly was available on ability only to it and the great expert - to Pokryshkin. Having been fond of the story, it crushed in itself(himself) weakness and desire to speak about flowers, its leaving and love. It was just closed by

.

We have a new appointment, the soldier! - it sounded.

Where again? - he responded deafly and with irritation. After the last moving from Lipetsk where it took place flight school, it not especially liked to move.

To us now to the Crimea! Yes! To the Crimea, my husband! - it ringed as a little bird.

It was happy that it pulls out the beloved fool without flowers, from war paws.

She even secretly believed that war will end until they are in the Crimea. Nevertheless week not small term, suddenly will end, or trains will cease to go, and they will not be able to arrive under Stalingrad back.

She was a naive and sincere wife of the simple soldier. For sharpness in talk, it did not even grow in a rank, and flew the second lieutenant. He was violent with the administration because he considered them stupid and cruel. They sometimes gave the order to fly by unprepared planes, or to depart, having thrown all equipment. He understood them, but did not understand, and often swore at them.

Well, you are ready to have a rest well with the wife? she told. These words, hit it as if a hammer.

to Have a rest...

In a coffin we will have a rest! As the Nevsky Alexander used to say! - she answered slightly having taken offense.

It she thought jokes, spring and so on Here he remembered

about flowers.

Tell - it began, - Your flowers behind a case were?

Yes - it was right there inflated.

From where? - he muttered, understanding that he can make something bad,

for example, to break a case an elbow, or to throw out a table in a window. It all boiled, expecting treachery from it which treachery should not have been.

Presented to me! - she was obviously offended, having already forgotten about pleasure, it sounded offense on the one who did not hear it, did not bring flowers and was not glad to new appointment. He is wrong!

Go! - he showed the door. She slightly sat down from surprise and undertook a hand a chair.

Better itself leave, explanations are not necessary! - it was as the rock.

Though growth is slightly higher than an average, but when his eyes burned so, it knew - to say is useless - will kill. With such eyes he said only about mother, and how he will kill all fascists for her.

Well! - she responded, and began to pack things.

Do not collect! I leave - it was more black than night.

Where darling? - she right there forgot about all offenses... - where it goes?!

To me appointment new. Thought to send to the Crimea, but British need the help .

Send the best, but it is not enough. I got also Pashk`s Starlings, the friend my, was called .

Husband... wash... the husband, forgive me the guilty silly woman! - she sobbed having undertaken his legs being kneeling. She sobbed as if she lost it already, understanding that she to Great Britain is not dear to her and that it will not return. This eagle from Lipetsk is too hot!

Do not roar! Your captain will warm you! - he told. The grandma Nyura, everything told it while he smoked near the house.

Captain! I do not want to it, I want with you! Take me with yourself! - she shouted at all house, the benefit of holes is full, and she shout of all since morning induced.

There is nothing to do to you with me a row. About flowers I remembered always, just once.

Not my it, you understand not mine! Flowers, walks! I have to shoot, to kill enemies!

Ya can, I want to walk, love, but I cannot! I see only one thing - we are killed!

Means, I have to kill! Otherwise will cut out also you and your captain! Walk! so they will not pass

Ya in the sky! . Having spitted out on a floor, it threw with a soldier`s blouse and left.

On hours was without fifteen seven. At the house stood an old GAZ car in which

the merry fellow Skvortsov already sat. Row they lit sowing.

Well, told darling that you love and you will return? - Pashka asked.

Aha - he answered boomingly and strongly dragged on belomoriny.

Wanted to kiss, but this haste! Her mother! Touch give, do not poison soul! - he shouted to the driver, and the car started.

It and was kneeling, but already the street, looking at the leaving car.

In the head only one word - flowers....

Suddenly she cried as if she pulled out that flower from a breast that stored only for it:

Return! I do not want flowers!

the Car stopped, but for an instant, before a hummock, and again moved slowly. She understood

... what? not clearly...

Something broke in it, and she could forgive it all.

I his muttering, and rudeness when he did not wash a hand, and the fact that only it was right in family quarrels. Suddenly the understanding came that it was IT, and it It, and they met to love. Everything that she wanted from it, everything already was... here only flowers... be they are damned!]