It was supposed to be a fantasy adventure book about teenagers and the Patriotic War. However, it didn’t work out. What was written did not fit into the laws of the genre, according to which the enemies should be stupid, the adventures should be interesting, and the hero, a young progressor, “killed eight Krauts with a Russian wooden spoon.” Although the adventures are there, and the hero, Boris Shalygin, fourteen years old, really unexpectedly finds himself in wartime, and there is a happy ending, if you can call it that. It turned out to be true. About that time - and about our time. About us - and about our ancestors. And about our enemies - current and then. And about what a person should be. If he is human.