USER: ... Igor (Svidersky) flares up. He always grapples with Georgy Akimovich. - What are you trying to say? - We don't know how to fight. - And what does it mean to be able, Georgy Akimovich? - Be able to? To walk from Berlin to the Volga - that's what it means to be able to. - You also need to be able to move away from the border to the Volga. Georgy Akimovich laughs with a small, dry laugh... - Our tanks are no worse than the German ones. They are better than the German ones. One tankman told me... - I don't argue, I don't argue. Maybe better, I don't know about it. But we still don't have much of a chance. Only a miracle can save us. Otherwise, we will be crushed. Crushed by organization and tanks. A miracle?... Recently, soldiers were walking by at night. I was on duty by the phone and went out for a smoke. They walked and sang, quietly, in an undertone. I did not even see them, I only heard their steps on the asphalt and a quiet, even a little sad song about the Dnipro and cranes. I went. The fighters settled down to rest along the road, on the trampled grass, under the acacias. Cigarette lights flickered. And someone's young, soft voice came from somewhere under the trees. - No, Vasya... Don't say anything... You won't find anywhere better than ours. By God... Like oil, the earth is oily, real. - He even smacked his lips somehow in a special way. - And the bread will rise - it will close with your head ... And the city was on fire, and red reflections jumped along the walls...