—— Red Army Sniper ——90It depended on the nature of the wound, the character of the
wounded, and principally on his personal discipline in the ward.
If he found within himself the strength and stamina to fulfil the
doctor’s orders for six days after the operation, he survived. If not,
he was transferred ‘downstairs’, as we put it, to the basement. That
happened, for instance, to one man with a serious stomach wound
who, unable to endure the thirst tormenting him, contrived to
swallow several mouthfuls of water while washing...
One morning, following the doctor’s rounds and the usual
hospital procedures, I had managed to nod off again when I was
woken by an unfamiliar but very pleasant female voice. I opened
my eyes and my sleep vanished like magic; standing by the door of
the ward was a twentyyearold girl of short stature. Far from being
just nice looking, she seemed to me to be amazingly beautiful.
Under her white medical gown one could easily tell she had an
attractive figure. The small black shoes on her feet gleamed with
lacquer. Personally, I was accustomed to seeing our girls in boots,
and these neat little shoes particularly astounded me.
But not only me; the whole ward was now gazing enchanted at
the newcomer.
‘Which of you is Zhigaryov?’ the girl asked, looking closely at
each of us. She asked this question twice, incidentally. ‘What, is
there no Zhigaryov?’
‘Here I am!’ said the middleaged soldier called Vasily
Zhigaryov, finally coming to himself.
‘So you’re Zhigaryov?’ she asked again, approaching his bed.
‘Then take your documents and sign right here.’
And after handing something over to Uncle Vasily, she said
goodbye to everyone and left.
‘Who is that beauty from who just came into the ward, eh?’
I asked with a stunned expression.
‘Things are looking a bit brighter, eh? Haven’t you noticed?’ said
my neighbour in the next bed, in reaffirmation of my sentiments.
‘If I could just make her acquaintance!’ I thought, and decided
to make inquiries.