“...I thought: who needs him in civilian life, no one is waiting for him except his mother and sister, there is no civilian specialty, more drinking and partying with his punkish friends. It's not far from the prison. They offered to sign a contract, but I decided to stay in my native part. I got involved and liked the service. He earned a maroon beret, which he was very proud of. Exhausted, with a broken nose, with a lip swollen like a dumpling after another fight, but happy to the point of tears. They gave us recruits, spring conscription, mama's boys. He drove them until they worked up a sweat, as they say, molding them into real fighters. Every week forced marches with full gear... - Are you men or sacks of shit? - he yelled and with heavy kicks he drove the young animals in gas masks forward, without giving any concession, as senior warrant officer Sidorenko once trained him. Then there were several more business trips to Dagestan on the border with Chechnya, and so on until August, until Basayev and his wolf pack brazenly entered Russian territory...” A story from the series “Puppies and Dogs of War”