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Do you remember Zhitomir, Vasily? Do you remember the River Teterev, Vasily, and that night in which the Sabbath, the young Sabbath, crept along the sunset crushing the stars with the heel of her red…
Savitsky, the commander of the Sixth Division, rose when he saw me, and I was taken aback by the beauty of his gigantic body. He rose—his breeches purple, his crimson cap cocked to the side, his…
The war went on and would not be stopped. On the contrary. It proved futile to hold it to any schedule or limit. At no prearranged time would the land be quiet, not at harvest time, not near winter…