Separation and spelling of applications. A funny incident from the life of the batteries were sleeping right there by the guns

Lev Abramovich Kassil

battery hare

Far to the north, on the very edge of our land, near the cold Barents Sea, the battery of the famous commander Ponochevny stood throughout the war. Heavy cannons hid in the rocks on the shore - and not a single German ship could pass our sea outpost with impunity.

More than once the Germans tried to capture this battery. But the gunners of Ponochevny did not let the enemy close to them. The Germans wanted to destroy the outpost - thousands of shells were sent from long-range guns. Our gunners resisted and themselves answered the enemy with such fire that the German guns soon fell silent - they were smashed by Ponochevny's well-aimed shells. The Germans see: you can’t take Ponochevny from the sea, you can’t break it from land. We decided to strike from the air. Day after day the Germans sent air scouts. They circled like kites over the rocks, looking out for where the cannons of Ponochevny had hidden. And then big bombers came flying in, throwing huge bombs from the sky at the battery.

If you take all the cannons of Ponochevny and weigh them, and then calculate how many bombs and shells the Germans brought down on this piece of land, it turns out that the entire battery weighed ten times less than the terrible load dropped on it by the enemy ...

In those days I visited the Ponochevny battery. The entire coast there was torn apart by bombs. In order to get to the rocks where the cannons stood, they had to climb over large funnel pits. Some of these pits were so spacious and deep that each of them would fit a good circus with an arena and seats for spectators.

A cold wind blew from the sea. He dispersed the fog, and I saw small round lakes at the bottom of huge funnels. Ponochevny's batterymen were squatting by the water, peacefully washing their striped vests. All of them had recently been sailors and tenderly took care of the sailor's vests, which were left to them as a memory of the naval service.

I was introduced to Ponochevny. Cheerful, slightly snub-nosed, with sly eyes peering out from under the visor of his naval cap. As soon as we started talking, the signalman on the rock shouted:

- Air!

- There is! Breakfast is served. Breakfast will be hot today. Take cover! said Ponochevny, looking up at the sky.

The sky hummed above us. Twenty-four Junkers and several small Messerschmitts flew straight at the battery. Behind the rocks, loudly, in a hurry, our anti-aircraft guns rattled. Then the air squealed thinly. We did not have time to reach the shelter - the earth groaned, a high rock not far from us split, and the stones screeched over our heads. The hard air hit me and knocked me to the ground. I climbed under the overhanging rock and clung to the stone. I felt the stone shore moving under me.

The rough wind of explosions pushed into my ears and dragged me from under the rock. Clinging to the ground, I closed my eyes with all my might.

From one strong and close explosion, my eyes opened on their own, as the windows in a house open during an earthquake. I was about to close my eyes again, when I suddenly saw that to my right, very close, in the shadow under a large stone, something white, small, oblong was stirring. And with each bomb strike, this small, white, oblong, funny jerked and froze again. My curiosity was so dismantled that I no longer thought about the danger, did not hear the explosions. I just wanted to know what strange thing was thrashing about under the rock. I crept closer, looked under the stone and examined the white hare's tail. I wondered: where is he from? I knew there were no hares here.

A close gap slammed, the tail twitched convulsively, and I squeezed deeper into the crevice of the rock. I really sympathized with the ponytail. I didn't see the hare. But I guessed that the poor fellow was also uneasy, like me.

There was an all-clear signal. And immediately I saw how a large hare was slowly getting out from under the stone. He got out, put one ear up, then lifted the other, listened. Then the hare suddenly, dryly, fractionally, briefly struck the ground with its paws, as if playing the all-clear on a drum, and jumped up to the battery, angrily spinning its ears.

Batteries gathered around the commander. Reported the results of anti-aircraft fire. It turns out that while I was studying the hare's tail there, anti-aircraft gunners shot down two German bombers. Both fell into the sea. And two more planes began to smoke and immediately turned home. In our battery, one gun was damaged by bombs and two fighters were slightly wounded by shrapnel. And then I saw the oblique one again. The hare, often twitching the tip of his hooked nose, sniffed at the stones, then looked into the caponier, where a heavy weapon was hiding, sat down in a column, folding his front paws on his stomach, looked around and, as if noticing us, went straight to Ponochevny. The commander was sitting on a rock. The hare jumped up to him, climbed onto his knees, rested his front paws on the chest of the Ponochevny, reached out and began to rub his mustachioed muzzle against the commander's chin. And the commander with both hands stroked his ears, pressed to the back, passed them through his palms ... Never in my life have I seen a hare behave so freely with a person. I happened to meet completely tame bunnies, but as soon as I touched their back with my palm, they froze in horror, falling to the ground. And this one stayed with the commander of the familiar.

- Oh, Zai-Zaich! - said Ponochevny, carefully examining his friend. “Oh, you impudent beast… didn’t it hurt you?” Not familiar with our Zai-Zaich? he asked me. - Scouts from the mainland brought me a present. He was lousy, he looked so anemic, but he ate himself with us. And he got used to me, a hare, he doesn’t give a straight move. So he runs after me. Where I am, there he is. Our environment, of course, is not very suitable for a hare nature. You could see for yourself - we live noisily. Well, nothing, our Zai-Zaich is now a small shelled one. Even had a wound, through.

The camper carefully took the left ear of the hare, straightened it, and I saw a healed hole in the shiny plush, pinkish skin from the inside.

- A splinter struck. Nothing. Now, on the other hand, he has perfectly studied the rules of air defense. They fly a little - he will hide somewhere in an instant. And once it happened, so without Zai-Zaich we would have a full pipe. Honestly! They hammered us for thirty hours in a row. It's a polar day, the sun sticks out on the watch all day and night, well, the Germans used it. As it is sung in the opera: "No sleep, no rest for the tormented soul." So, therefore, they finally bombed, left. The sky is cloudy, but the visibility is decent. We looked around: nothing seemed to be expected. We decided to take a break. Our signalmen also got tired, well, they missed it. Just look: Zai-Zaich is worried about something. He set his ears and beats the check with his front paws. What? Nothing is visible anywhere. But do you know what a hare's hearing is? What do you think, the hare was not mistaken! All sound pickups outstripped. Our signalmen found the enemy plane only three minutes later. But I already managed to give the command in advance just in case. Prepared, in general, for the deadline. From that day on, we already know: if Zai-Zaich has set his ear, tap dance beats, then follow the sky.

please help me to parse and explain where the circumstance is separated by gerunds and how it happens in general. 1. Having returned from the review, Kutuzov, accompanied by the Austrian general, went to his office. 2. The foam melted, hissed and sighed. 3. He walked slowly. 4. Gavrila silently rowed and, breathing heavily, looked askance there. 5. The day was hot despite the occasional rain. 6. The next morning, despite the begging of the owners, Darya Alexandrovna got ready to go. 7. Every morning, at six o'clock, I went to work. 8. The batteries were sleeping right there, by the guns. 9. Below, under the bridge, the locomotive sighed deeply, throwing out a swarm of golden fireflies from its mighty chest.

Answers:

If simple: 5. Characterize the sentence by the presence of the main members of the sentence: two-part or one-part, indicate which main member of the sentence, if it is one-part (subject or predicate). 6. Characterize by the presence of secondary members of the proposal: common or non-common. 7. Indicate whether the sentence is complicated by anything (homogeneous members, appeal, introductory words) or not complicated. 8. Underline all members of the sentence, indicate parts of speech. 9. Draw up a sentence outline, indicating the grammatical basis and complication, if any. If a complex sentence: Indicate which connection in the sentence: allied or non-union. 6. Indicate what is the means of communication in the sentence: intonation, coordinating unions or subordinating unions. 7. Conclude what kind of sentence this is: unionless (BSP), compound (CSP), complex (CSP). 8. Parse each part of a complex sentence as a simple one, starting from point No. 5 of the adjacent column. 9. Underline all members of the sentence, indicate parts of speech. 10. Draw up a sentence outline, indicating the grammatical basis and complication, if any. An example of syntactic analysis of a simple sentence simple sentence Oral analysis: The sentence is declarative, non-exclamatory, simple, two-part, grammatical basis: pupils and pupils study, common, complicated by homogeneous subjects. Written: Narrative, non-exclamatory, simple, two-part, grammatical basis pupils and pupils learn, common, complicated by homogeneous subjects. An example of parsing a complex sentence is a complex sentence Oral parsing: The sentence is declarative, non-exclamatory, complex, allied connection, means of communication subordinating union because, complex sentence. The first simple sentence: one-part, with the main member - the predicate was not set, common, not complicated. The second simple sentence: a two-part, grammatical basis, we went with the class, common, not complicated. Written: Narrative, non-exclamatory, complex, allied connection, means of connection subordinating conjunction because, NGN. 1st PP: one-part, with the main member - the predicate was not set, common, not complicated. 2nd PP: two-part, grammatical basis - we went with the class, spread out, not complicated.

Lev Abramovich Kassil

battery hare

I was introduced to Ponochevny. Cheerful, slightly snub-nosed, with sly eyes peering out from under the visor of his naval cap. As soon as we started talking, the signalman on the rock shouted:

- Air!

- There is! Breakfast is served. Breakfast will be hot today. Take cover! said Ponochevny, looking up at the sky.

The rough wind of explosions pushed into my ears and dragged me from under the rock. Clinging to the ground, I closed my eyes with all my might.

The camper carefully took the left ear of the hare, straightened it, and I saw a healed hole in the shiny plush, pinkish skin from the inside.

I looked at Zai-Zaich. With his tail up, he jumped briskly on his knees at Ponochevny, sideways and with dignity, somehow not at all like a hare, looked around at the gunners standing around us. And I thought: “What daredevils, these people, probably, if even a hare, having lived a little with them, ceased to be a coward himself!”

№2 Underline the circumstances and definitions, put punctuation marks.

And people again walked through the streets, smoky, with black faces, spreading the sticky smell of machine oil in the air, shining their hungry teeth. Throwing the knapsack off his shoulders, Lyonka laid his head on it and, after looking a little into the sky through the foliage above his face, he fell asleep soundly, hidden from sight by the shadow of the wattle fence. We got up at five o'clock in the morning, before we had had time to sleep, and, stupid and indifferent, at six we sat down at the table to make pretzels from dough. For some reason, frightened, he quickly turned off the light and, clutching the box in his hand, returned to the room. A dense layer of cold, having descended, easily comes into contact with the heat of stones and sand left after the fog has left. The weakened storm, turned into an ordinary wind, invades the air current and, having dissolved in it, floats on. In childhood, without knowing worries, we swam in snowdrifts and, burning with our faces, returned home in the skins of polar bears. Growing up in the field, we, who are sensitive to smells, will forever remember that special smell that we felt while in this house. In a large hallway, lit by a merrily crackling burning stove, Lily sat on a chest covered with wolf fur, gazing thoughtfully at the fire. Willows rustled, limp, huge, and among their bare branches sat, swaying, rooks, soaked during the night.

№3 Underline the circumstances, put punctuation marks.

I Boats sailed along the reeds, under the willows. We got up very late, at nine o'clock. After returning from the internment camp, they sought psychological support. In the crooked haystack, sadly, like an orphan, perched a crow. In the sea, at the very shallows, silver herrings gleam. He brought his beautiful wife from a distant Altai city. From the forest, from behind the forester's house, barely visible to the children, people and carts were moving. The batteries were sleeping right there, by the guns.

II The forests, despite the tropical heat, were not distinguished by tropical splendor. The porthole, according to the combat situation, was carefully hung. Thanks to the ebb of the snow, we could easily see the road. All three columns marched day and night, despite the blizzard that broke out. The weather, despite the last third of October, was excellent. My Cossack, contrary to orders, slept soundly ...

SEPARATE ADD-ONS

№1 I All of us, with the exception of the guide and the rapists, were in these places for the first time. The crowd dispersed, except for a few curious and boys, and Gavrila returned home. The entire expedition, including the attendants, numbered only about twenty people. While hunting, Uncle Eroshka ate one piece of bread for days on end and drank nothing but water. Mr. Hopkins, along with other men in gray helmets, stood motionless. Four guns fired their shells in succession, but, beyond Grigoriev's expectations, the gunfire did not cause any noticeable confusion in the ranks of the Reds. Many of the fighters, in addition to their rifles, were armed with captured machine guns.

II Instead of a bay stallion, Korzh was given a fat white gelding. Our host called us swindlers and gave us rotten trebashine for dinner instead of meat. Instead of an answer, Kirila Petrovich was given a letter. With quick steps I passed a long "area" of bushes, climbed a hill and, instead of the expected familiar plain with an oak forest to the right and a low white church in the distance, I saw completely different places, unknown to me. Instead of the older sister, the younger one will help the mother. Instead of answering some request, Zurin wheezed and whistled. Instead of a coat, he put on a jacket.

SEPARATION OF CLAIMING, EXPLANATORY AND CONNECTIVE MEMBERS OF THE PROPOSITION

№1 Place punctuation marks, underline the words that define isolation.

The next day, with five Yakuts, I crossed the Lena, that is, through the narrow channels that separated the countless islands. At that time, exactly a year ago, I was still collaborating on magazines. It was very warm, even hot. It hurts, and it hurts a lot, I have a headache today. Everyone silently listened to Anna Savvichna's story, especially the girls. Children like works with an interesting plot, mainly adventure stories. Some languages, such as English, do not have declension forms. There was only one road, and besides, it was wide and lined with milestones, so it was impossible to get lost. Grandmother in general was very fond of mushrooms, milk mushrooms in particular.

№2 Place punctuation marks

It was dominated by brown, almost red, the color of the soil and the blue tint of the sea. There is only one undoubted happiness in life - to live for others. One more, last, tale - and my chronicle is over. There was another obstacle in the way of scientists - the superstition of the islanders. Having passed some empty, without inhabitants, village, the squadron again climbed the mountain. A young girl, about seventeen years old, entered. The boat was moving all the time moving in a black, almost ink-colored, shadow. You need to move forward and move as quickly as possible. Write an application as soon as possible.

PUNCTATION MARKS FOR WORDS NOT GRAMMATICALLY RELATED TO SENTENCE MEMBERS

INTRODUCTORY WORDS AND PHRASES

№1 Highlight introductory words

I 1. Probably the weather will change. – The received message is quite probable. 2. It must have been too late. - The letter must be urgently delivered to the addressee. 3. On one side of the road troops were approaching, on the other side were the inhabitants of the liberated village. - On the one hand, the offer to go south is very tempting, on the other hand, it causes concern because of the usual heat at this time. 3. This theoretical position is quite obvious. - Obviously, you will have to seriously prepare for the exams. 4. To the surprise of the boys, the road was not so tiring. - To the surprise of the boys mixed with fear and confusion. 5. My friend and I agreed on everything, but he unexpectedly acted quite the opposite. – The loss did not discourage the chess player, on the contrary, it forced him to play more carefully in the future. 6. He, however, was mistaken. - We were already quite ready, but the rain that started upset all plans. 7. We climbed higher and higher and finally reached the top. “His behavior is finally becoming intolerable.

II The same representatives of big business supposedly were ready to finance his election campaign. Language after all carries the psychology of the people who speak it. After the appearance of Yagudin and Plushenko, nature howas if took a rest - there is not a single young skater who could even be compared with them even with a stretch. In recent years exactly The possibilities of modern information technologies have made it possible to make many discoveries. How after all It's a shame we can't agree. By the mid-2010s, the situation in the field of entrepreneurship hardlywhether will change drastically. Now you just have to fill the bottle with water approximately two times a week. We hope that cooperation between our countries howonce and will serve this purpose.

№2 1. Nikita's whole life was not a constant holiday, but, on the contrary, was an unceasing service. - The misfortune did not change him at all, but on the contrary, he became even stronger and more energetic. 2. Snow, apparently falling all night, covered all the roads. - All those small, of course, pleasures that life gave her, she accepted with gratitude. - The child, apparently frightened of the horse, ran to his mother.

INTRODUCTORY AND INTERCUTIVE SENTENCES

№1 Explain punctuation marks.

The blizzard, it seemed to me, was still raging. As the sailors say, the wind was picking up. The accuser flies headlong into the library and - can you imagine? - neither a similar number, nor such a date of the month of May is found in Senate decisions. On a hot summer morning (it was at the end of July) we woke up earlier than usual. And this Greek teacher, this man in the case, you can imagine, almost got married. His second wife, beautiful, clever - you just saw her - married him when he was already old.

APPEAL

№1 Set up punctuation marks.

Why are you angry, Varya? Farewell home! Farewell, old life! I am writing to you, dear Alexey Sergeevich, after returning from hunting. I saw you, hills and cornfields... Reader, friend, I will not break the terms of friendship dear... Stronger, horse, beat, hoof, minting a step. Hello sun and happy morning! Where, smart, are you wandering, head? Noise, noise, obedient sail, worry under me, gloomy ocean. A sad star, an evening star, your beam has silvered the withered plains, and the slumbering bay, and the black rocks of the peak. How good you are, O night sea! Forgive me, peaceful valleys, and you, familiar mountains, peaks, and you, familiar forests!

INTERJECTION. PARTICLES.

№1 Ah, my head is on fire. Oh my dear little fish! Yes, the little house is very good-looking! Yes, there are no fish in our river. Well, what are we going to do? Well, it's been a day! Oh, send for the doctor! Oh, and the eyes were burning under the frowning eyebrows of these people smelling of smoke, lard and tar. But, alas, we missed the train. Ege, yes, I didn’t get there at all! No, I would not get along with this share!

COMPARATIVE TURNOVER

№1 I His hands were trembling like mercury. Nowhere at a mutual meeting do they bow so nobly and naturally as on Nevsky Prospekt. Below, like a lake of steel, lakes of jets turn blue. On Red Square, as if through the fog of centuries, the outlines of walls and towers are indistinct. His head is shaved like a boy's. Better late than never. From somewhere it smelled of musty dampness, as if from a cellar. The air is clean and fresh, like a baby's kiss.

II Her father and mother are like strangers to her. He didn't act like a friend. Today everything is going like clockwork. It rained all summer in torrents. The job will take at least three hours. The results will be known not earlier than in two days. Buckshot rained down like hail. Dreams dissipated like smoke.

PUNCUNCATION IN A COMPLEX SENTENCE

COMPOSITION SIGNS

№1 Place punctuation marks, distinguishing between simple sentences with homogeneous members and compound sentences.

The sun had set, and dim clouds hung over the dark steppe. Half an hour later we were sitting at home, drinking tea and telling our long-awaited comrades about our adventures. It was a frosty sunny day, and he liked everything: the abundance of skiers and the crunch of fresh snow, which had not yet been removed in Moscow. The conversation seemed interesting to him, and he stopped, waiting for an opportunity to express his thoughts. Pugachev gave a sign, and they immediately released me and left me. What technologies and services influence the price of housing and determine its elitism? The moon rose and reflected like a red pillar on the other side of the pond. Yefimova sat down on the edge of her cold armchair and looked through the bronze fence of the inkstand at Semyon Eremeevich. It was unnatural and absurd from the lackey's point of view. Now we have gained life experience and will try to make sure that when commercial products appear, no one is a loser. Phytotherapy is often referred to as traditional medicine and on this basis it is concluded that this is an unscientific method of treatment. The forged ballots were seized and did not affect the voting process. Developers are talking about a breakthrough in the film industry market and expect to receive billions in profits from Hollywood giants. Then Mikhail sat down at the computer and, using ordinary programs like Adobe Photoshop, began to look for a numerical algorithm. Huge bales and barrels, to the deafening noise and clang of chains and winches, were brought ashore and stacked in regular rows. It is getting dark, and a strange silence reigns in the village.

That same night, Tretyakov led the guns to the front. Their entire division was thrown somewhere to the left. The battery commander, Captain Povysenko, jumped in at dusk, jabbed his finger into the map:

Do you see this spoon? Do you see the skyscraper? Put the guns behind the reverse ramp. - An iron nail, stoned to blackness, drew a line. - It's clear? My NP will be at plus one hundred thirty two and seven. You put the battery in, you pull the connection to me.

Clearly, - said Tretyakov. Everything was clear on the map.

Nearby, a tractor rumbled, and sparks flew out of the exhaust pipe, bright in the twilight. Sheathed, in the stowed position, the guns were already attached, but the batteries were all loading something on top of them, everyone was carrying something. At the trailer with battery property, the foreman was fussing. Povysenko looked there with a motionless gaze and approached.

In the trailer, under a canvas top, the commander of the firing platoon, Zavgorodny, stood on all fours in the dark, tormented by pain. They wanted to send him to the medical battalion, but at the front, the sick man involuntarily feels like a kind of malingerer. It either hurts or kills, and what kind of illness can there be at the front? Now you are alive, an hour later you were killed - does it matter if you killed a healthy person or a sick person? And Zavgorodny overcame himself. At the last moment, the foreman remembered the tried and tested remedy: he mixed half a glass of kerosene with salt, gave it to drink: “First, burn it, burn it, then it will get tired ...”

Approaching the tailgate, Povysenko looked inside the trailer, into the darkness:

Well, did you feel better? And the foreman jumped in:

Burn? Burn?

He felt responsible - both for the remedy and for the disease.

It's easier, - Zavgorodny groaned through his strength. And he crossed his knees on his greatcoats: he could not lie down.

The remedy is correct, - the foreman reassured. - Burn, burn and - let go, get tired ...

And he stroked himself to his liking, to the very belt buckle, where he should have let go.

It was low, the sky, everything was gray, like one solid cloud. And torn clouds carried like charcoal shadows below him. Quiet before the rain. Tractors with attached implements stood in the landing; To the right, behind the cornfield, machine guns thumped dully, bullet routes soared above the ground, all already bright.

So yes. - The battalion commander thought, chewed his flaky, weather-beaten lips. - I'm taking your control platoon with me. A case of what Paravyan, platoon commander, will be with you. All clear? Take action!

He saluted and rustled his cloak, moving away.

We waited for darkness. We started. Rumbling, the tractors pulled the guns behind them, crushing bushes under the caterpillars, crushing young trees at the exit from the planting. On the loose earth, a deep torn track left behind the battery.

We moved without light. From above - the black sky, under the feet and ahead the dusty road brightened. The rain came down. Chernozem was wound on the heavy wheels of the cannons, on the rubber rims.

The front remained to the right all the time; Tretyakov was guided by it. Rockets flew low there and went out, strangled by the rain. In the vague moving reflections, every time Tretyakov saw the batterymen in wet raincoats, following the guns. And sure enough, several people, ruffled, sat on each cannon, dozing, and rain poured down from above.

Paravyan! Well, get off the guns! It shakes, they fall from above, it will suppress the sleepy ones.

Paravyan, a stately, handsome platoon commander, looked at him from under wet arched eyelashes with his black eyes, silently disapproved and went to do it.

Do you want people to be suppressed? How many times to speak!

And Tretyakov knew what to say to him as much as they would move. He was also a fighter, and they also drove him like this, and he came in from the other side and, as soon as the commander did not see, he again climbed onto the cannon, because he wanted to sleep, and sleeping sitting is better than on the move. But now it was not someone else, whom you can curse in your soul, who was responsible for him, but he himself commanded people and was responsible for them, and therefore ordered the sleepy fighters to be rounded up. And Paravyan reluctantly went to fulfill it.

None of them, except for the same Paravyan, he did not know either by face or by last name. He led them, they followed him. He had not yet managed to recognize anyone in his control platoon. It was just before dinner, they summoned to the headquarters the commander of the reconnaissance section, Chabarov, who replaced the killed platoon commander, ordered to hand over the platoon to him, Lieutenant Tretyakov. Chabarov, an old front-line soldier, looked at the nineteen-year-old lieutenant sent to command him, said nothing, led him to the soldiers.

The entire platoon, everyone who was not at the observation post at that moment, dug gaps from the bombing behind the hut: they dug not for themselves, for the headquarters of the division. Over cropped heads, over wet armpits, over bellies drawn in with effort, pickaxes flew up and down. In the earth, hardened by the sun, the pick, piercing, left a metal trail and took off again, shining like a silver ingot.

The soldiers' bodies illuminated by the sun, even after a whole summer, were white, only their faces, necks and hands were black from sunburn. And all these were young guys who were beginning to fill up with strength: during the war they grew up in the ranks, only two, three - elderly, sinewy, with muscles stretched out by work, skin that began to sag. But especially one of all - stood out, powerful, like a wrestler, overgrown with black wool from the throat to the belt of his trousers; when he raised the pick, it was not the ribs that showed through the skin, but the muscles between the ribs.

Glancing over these bodies glistening with sweat, Tretyakov saw many of the marks of former wounds, covered with glossy skin, saw them with his own eyes: in front of them, hard at work, bare to the waist, he stood, just released from the school, in a cap with a comb, all new, like a cartridge snapped out of the clip. It was not in vain that Chabarov presented him to the platoon like this, he found the moment. And you won’t begin to explain that you also visited, saw during the war.

Later, when it was time to go to dinner, Chabarov's platoon formed up, with weapons, with bowlers in their hands, and submitted a list, hand-written on paper. And he himself, strong-bodied, stocky, broad-cheeked, with a face brown from sunburn, in which Mongolian blood was clearly distinguished, became right-flanked, making it clear with his whole appearance that he respects discipline, and for now he, the new platoon commander, will be respected. And so the platoon stood, looking at him, and on a sheet of paper were the names in front of Tretyakov.

Dzhedelashvili! he called. I was struck by why two “Je”s were needed when one would have been enough. And I still had time to think that it was probably the same one, overgrown to the throat with black wool.

A bright boy stepped out of line, a carrot blush all over his cheek, reddish eyes, looking cheerfully: Dzhezhelashvili. And that wrestler had a surname Nasrullaev. And whoever he called out of action, not a single surname somehow suited the person. And so it remained with him at first: the list itself, the platoon itself.

This platoon of his was taken away by the battery commander - to equip a new observation post, and he led the guns and firemen of Zavgorodny, who was transported in a trailer. And he himself had no idea where he was leading them. By three zero-zero, the guns were supposed to be in firing positions, but so far they have not passed Yasenevka. “There will be a farm Yasenivka chi Yablonivka,” said the battalion commander, trying to make out the names on the erased fold of the map. “In general, you’ll see for yourself ... From him to the right and to the right ... ”But they walked for an hour and two hours, and no farm was visible, no matter how Tretyakov peered at the vague reflections of rockets that lifted the wet canopy of night above the front in the rain. And, horrified at the thought that he was leading the wrong way, he lost his way, fearing shame, he did the only thing he could; he did not give a look, he walked the more confidently, the less confidence he had in himself.

Something blackened finally ahead is unclear. A rocket went up, and, sitting down, Tretyakov managed to make out against the sky: some long, low sheds, something else towered behind them. It must have been poplars ... The rocket went out, the darkness closed in completely.

Hurrying, overjoyed, slipping with his boots on the soggy black soil, he overtook the front tractor, waved his hand to the tractor driver: follow me, they say. Still no voice was heard.

What he took from a distance for sheds turned out to be close by a battery of 122-millimeter cannons. Tied up like wagons, long-barreled guns with tractors stood on the side of the road one after the other. And from there someone in a raincoat was already walking towards him. He came up, took it under the visor, brushing off the drops from the hood, gave a wet cold hand:

Turn off the engines!

Why mute?

Can't you see what's ahead?

Still not distinguishing anything, realizing only that this was not a farm, it means that they had gone somewhere in the wrong place, Tretyakov asked:

And Yasenevka should be here, Yasenevka... Is it far from Yasenevka?

The man's face, dimly visible under the hood, seemed old, wrinkled. But on his chest, where the tent-cloak parted, the buckles of combat shoulder straps worn over the overcoat shone militantly, a thin planchette strap crossed them, and binoculars wet from the rain still dangled.

There will be five kilometers to it.

How five? It was four, we've been walking for two hours...

Well, maybe four, - the man waved his hand indifferently. - Platoon? So I myself am such a Vanka - a platoon commander. Do you have one hundred and fifty-two howitzers-cannons? Same as mine, damn it. Fifteen tons with the tractor! And the bridge ahead - you will shove it with your shoulder.

Together we went to see the bridge. Fighters followed them from both batteries. On the wet, slippery logs of the flooring we reached the middle. Below is either a ravine, or a dried-up riverbed - and you can’t make out from here.

Is Yasenevka on the other side?

What, Yasenevka? Yasenevka, Yasenevka… Do you have this bridge on the map? And I don't have. - Having opened the planchette, the platoon nail clicked on the celluloid, under which the map was dimly distinguished, the rain falling from above looked like a sleeve of his overcoat. - He is not on the map, but he is - here he is!

And for greater clarity, he hit the logs with his heel. Even jumped on them. And around were the fighters of both batteries.

It's not on the map, so it shouldn't be on the ground either. And if it is, put it on the map. So I understand?

He understood correctly: they didn’t put it on the map, he was not obliged to fight.

Down the slope, soaking his knees on the tall grass, Tretyakov fled under the bridge. Log supports. Clamped with staples at the top. When I looked like this from below, the whole structure seemed unreliable.

The school explained to them how to calculate the carrying capacity of the bridge. Major Batyushkov taught them engineering. The devil will calculate it now, when nothing is visible. And the voice of the platoon commander intrusively climbed into his ears - not lagging behind, he followed him, hitting each support with his fist:

There they are! There they are! Will it withstand such a load? - And he tried to prick with a fingernail - She is also all rotten ...

As if the main war was now to convince Tretyakov.

The rocket ascended without rising above the edge of the black earth. The ravine filled with a muddy light, and a bridge surfaced on it: a log floor, people in the rain. And the two of them were standing down in the grass. The carcass of the truck lay among the stones; along the cabin, crumpled like a tin, and wet rain fell. "What is he trying to convince me of?" Tretyakov got angry. And for his indecision, having sharply hated this man, he climbed upstairs.

He walked up to the first gun.

Where are the tractor drivers?

The fighters began to look around, then one of them, the neighbor, who looked back more quickly than anyone else, introduced himself:

As if he suddenly found himself among all. But he did not come forward, he remained standing among the fighters: this way he felt stronger.

Gun commanders, tractor drivers, come to me! - ordered Tretyakov, thereby separating them from the battery.

One by one, six people came up and stood in front of him. Tractor drivers can be immediately distinguished: they are all sooty.

So, so, all the people - from the guns. Gun commanders, go ahead. Each is ahead of his gun. To tractor drivers: you will drive the guns at the first speed. One thing will pass, then another lead. It's clear?

Silence. One of the two gun commanders was Paravyan, who "would happen to you."

Am I clear?

They didn’t immediately answer unfriendly: “Clearly ...” And behind the battery stood and was silent. They were together, and he, placed above them, unknown to anyone and nothing, was alone. And it was not so much that they did not even trust the bridge - it would withstand it, it would not survive - as they did not believe in it. And another battery was waiting, making way for them to go first.

Your tractor? - Tretyakov pointed with his finger at the tractor driver, who at first looked around the most. And pointed to the tractor.

This? - the tractor driver was playing for time. On the tractor, the exhaust pipe glowed crimson at the base, raindrops evaporating on the fly. - My.

Surname?

And what is the name, comrade lieutenant? Semakin is my surname.

You, Semakin, will guide the first gun.

I, Comrade Lieutenant, will lead! - Semakin spoke loudly and waved his hand desperately: they say, he does not feel sorry for himself. - I'll drive. I always follow orders! At the same time, he shook his head negatively. - Only what will we pull the tractor with? He should lie under the bridge. And the same tool...

He spoke, propped up by the sympathetic silence of the batterymen. All of them, together and individually, were each responsible for the country, and for the war, and for everything that is in the world and will be after them. But he alone was responsible for bringing the battery to the deadline. And since there was someone, they did not answer.

I will stand under the bridge if you are afraid, afraid to lead. You will lead the gun over me!

And, having commanded: to the tractor drivers - in places, to all the soldiers - from the guns! - led the battery to the bridge.

When the tracks of the tractor lay down on the first logs and they, moving, trembling, pressed in, Tretyakov ran down. Under the battery commander, they would not huddle together, look at each other, but you can shift your load on him.

Let's! - he waved his hand, he shouted from below, even though there, next to the tractor, they could not hear him. And how he entered his destiny under the bridge.

Everything sagged above the head, above the face raised up, transferring the rolling weight from log to log. It seemed that the supports were sinking. And then the gun entered the bridge. He groaned, the bridge shook. "Ruin!" - even breath intercepted. The logs rubbed against each other, dust fell from above. Blinking his powdered eyes, seeing nothing, he rubbed them with rough fingers, trying to blindly see what was above him, but everything flickered. And through the exhaust of the engine, the crackling of wood was heard.

Without seeing it, he felt how all this huge weight had slid off the bridge onto the earth's firmament, and the bridge sighed over him. Only now did he feel what force was pressing from above: in his tensed muscles he felt as if he himself was propping up the bridge with his back.

Tretyakov crawled out of the ravine: he couldn't stand under the bridge all the time, it wasn't a circus after all. Having ordered, just in case, to unhook the trailer, to carry it on a long cable, he, without waiting, crossed the bridge. He walked past the guns, past the batteries standing near him, he was right, he did what he had to do, but for some reason he was now unpleasant to look at them and was already becoming ashamed of himself. He climbed under the bridge, shouting something ... It was easier to sit next to the tractor driver and calmly lead the battery: there was less noise and more sense.

By the middle of the night, on the farm, having reached the hut, they raised the old man to show the way. In only underwear, without putting on anything, he sat on a tractor: he hoped, probably, it would be so pitiful for him, they would let him go soon. They gave him a padded pea coat, smelling of diesel fuel, on his shoulders, and, wrapping his sleeves around him, he warmed his legs.

Axis, axis ... along the tey stitch ... - His naked chicken neck with tufts of white fluff protruded from the collar.

- "Osya, osya," mimicked the tractor driver, all wet, in a wet cap pulled over his head. - Where are you taking me? Here the women go to the wind. You lead where the gun will go!

The old man obediently blinked his teary eyes, and again his shaking hand extended out of his pea jacket pointed forward, into the rain. He led the battery into landing, and they let him go.

Shut off the motors. And close, suddenly, a machine gun rumbled. From the blackness of the ground, bullet trails flashed, appearing and disappearing. The front line was somewhere nearby. And he locked himself here with heavy guns.

Tractor drivers approached:

No fuel, comrade lieutenant.

How not?

We drive all night...

Weak shot. Having drawn a sparkling smoky trail, a rocket soared. It flashed, the light opened up above them, and the landing, guns, people - everything rose to the light, as if on a bare palm.

Why is there no fuel? - asked Tretyakov, feeling his utter helplessness and despair. - How not, when should it be?

They stood in front of him, looked at the ground and were silent. And they could stand like that forever, he saw it. The light turned off. Not knowing what to do now, what else to say - and shouting, swearing was completely useless - Tretyakov walked away. It seemed that Zavgorodny called him from the trailer, some kind of groan was heard, but he pretended not to hear. He does not need consolations, and what could he, the patient, do from there?

Some horses were wandering around in the landing. One, of a light color, squinting her eyes, gnawed at the bark from a tree. Steam rose from her wet croup. Tretyakov only now saw that the rain had stopped. And fog comes from the ground, from the grass.

He heard voices and moved closer. Breathing heavily, swearing muffledly, the crew rolled the cannon into a freshly dug trench. Holding on to the barrel, leaning on the beds, on the rubber wheels, half-naked, wet from the rain, the batterymen rolled the gun. Restrainedly excited stood around him. These were the positions of divisional guns. He sought out the platoon leader. An old man in appearance, in infantry windings and boots, each of which had a pood of black earth stuck to it, at first he listened to Tretyakov incredulously. Finally understood what was the matter. Matched cards. And suddenly, as if the terrain turned before my eyes, everything became clear. From half a kilometer away there was that slope of height, behind which it was necessary to put the battery.

Hurrying until dawn, he found the position of the battery, climbed everything there, figured out which way the guns would lead here, and returned to the landing. The fighters slept, only Paravyan, wrapped in a cape, walked around the guns. They ordered the rise. Chilled in damp pea jackets, not warmed even in their sleep, the tractor drivers approached, yawning with a shudder. He explained how he would guide the guns, and fuel was found.

There was a little in the canisters ... And they averted their eyes. He was so upset when they said that the fuel had run out that he did not even check the tanks. And now, not only in canisters, but also a barrel of diesel fuel was found. Well, well, the tractor drivers were also right: you don’t know where to drive all night, and, really, you will burn all the fuel.

Before dawn, when damp darkness thickened, Tretyakov, leaving the firemen to dig gun trenches, brought communications to the MP. Chabarov was setting up a stereo tube in a freshly dug ditch.

Where is kombat?

The battalion commander is sleeping upstairs.

A rocket took off at the front line, and Tretyakov saw: having covered his head with a raincoat, putting his wet boots out, the battalion commander was sleeping behind the parapet.

Comrade Captain! Comrade captain!.. Povysenko sat down on the ground, squinting from the light of the rocket, looked with dull eyes, not understanding at first. He yawned to tears, shuddered, shook his head:

Yeah ... Did you bring the connection?

Already in the dark I looked for a long time at the luminous hands of the dial.

Where did you travel so much? What's your last name, Chetverikov?

Tretyakov.

Yeah, Tretyakov, right. Send you for death. He stood up to his full height, stretched, yawned with a howl, finally waking up.

Have you dug gun emplacements?

Tretyakov still had the roar of tractors in his ears, and his feet seemed to be walking on viscous black soil. Only the head, after all this sleepless night, was light, clear, and the huge battalion commander in his cape was either closely visible, or moved away into the reddish light of the fire.

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