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Updated: June 29, 2025
Three bodies lay together, over one another; two men were dead and cold, the third stirred, very faintly, as we came up, opened his eyes, smiled and said: "Eh, Bojé moi ... at last!" As we moved him on to the stretcher, with a little sigh he fainted again. He had a bad stomach-wound. Before picking up the stretcher, the Feldscher wiped his forehead and crossed himself.
Nikitin explained to me that he had been urging Andrey Vassilievitch to return to Mittövo with the wagons. "There's no need," he said, "for us all to stay. It's only taking unnecessary risks and somebody should take charge of the wagons." "There's Feodor Constantinovitch," said Andrey, naming a feldscher and stammering in his rage. "He's re-responsible enough."
The man obviously thought me a tiresome prig. He had no romantic illusions about the business; he had not been a Feldscher during twenty years for nothing and knew that a wound was a wound; when a man was dead he was dead. However.... "Truly it's not far?" he asked the soldier. "Tak totchno," the man answered, his face quite without expression.
Then we came to a large barn on the edge of what seemed a silver lake but was in reality a long field under the full light of the moon. As we paused I saw, on the further side of the field, two shells burst, very quickly, one after the other. We all stopped under the shelter of the barn. "Well," said the Feldscher to the soldier, "where's your man?" "Only a short way," said the soldier.
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