The life-affirming awakening of nature after winter sleep colorfully describes the composition on the theme of “Trekking”. The fertile black soil of the fields, the spring greens of the penetrating grass, the joyful bird’s polyphony and the virgin purity of the first snowdrops not only lifted the mood to the boys, but also gave each of them a powerful impetus to new achievements.
On my spring holidays, my father invited me to go out of town, to admire the awakening nature of his native land. Early in the morning, collecting rucksacks, we moved to the side of the city’s new buildings, a kilometer away from which began a birch grove.
Blackened by the fat black soil, the field was plowing the tractor, moving back and forth, parallel to each other. The country
Thin trunks of elegant birches whitened behind the edge of the field in orderly rows, waving shaking, flowing in the wind, wavy strands of crowns. The closer we approached, the stronger our hearts pounded and the breath from the virgin purity and, trembling in the morning haze, the clarity of the birch grove filled with the mysterious whisper of the young foliage.
The dry cripple gaily crunched beneath our feet, guarding the fearful birds, looking curiously at the unexpected guests. Through the indiscriminate network of broken branches, covering paths that run up in all directions, the forest motley grass, ready for a blossoming bloom, made its way. A light, mixed scent of spring flowers was already coming from him. enveloping slender trunks of birches with a fragrant plume.
Suddenly, before us, a festive tablecloth was spread with an oval lawn full of bright white snowdrops. Slightly trembling on graceful, thin legs, they reverently looked at the tender, spring sun. turning to him his trembling, velvety heads. We, of course, did not disrupt them, so as to not break the eternal harmony of nature with our rude interference.
The white trunks of the birch trees became moist beneath the warming, sunbeams, flowing with the transparent, large tears of their famous, birch sap. We lapped it with the tips of our tongues with smooth, like polished, bark and enjoyed the sweetish taste of crystal drops with a barely perceptible hint of tart bitterness.
Resting on the fallen log, amidst all this enchanting splendor, we set out on our return journey, trying to capture in memory every moment of our wonderful and cognitive journey into the wonderful spring forest.
Sashka is the protagonist of the story, a young soldier who was on the front line, near Rzhev. The story shows several days of the hero’s life: first at the front, after injury – on the train on the way to the hospital.
In this life, a simple soldier mixed high and everyday, heroic and everyday. S. has long been accustomed to the realities of war: “I endured and understood that the war does not look like what it seemed to them…”. The hero no longer sees the missiles that cut through the sky, tracer projectiles, machine-gun bursts. He thinks about the simplest, most urgent: “It’s bad with a loaf.” There’s no way for Navar. A half-bucket of liquid wheat for two – and be healthy.
And the exploits of S. performs also simply and naturally. Under the enemy’s fire, he creeps along the shooting field to the dead German: “Sasha hesitated a little, wiped the sweat from his forehead, for himself he would never have bothered, lose these felt boots.” But his company pitied…
We ate… and then put on some dry clothes and is like in a dry… Okay, I was not! “
The war will put S. before a difficult choice: a moral law or a military duty? S. will be given an order to shoot a German prisoner. This German does not believe in the truthfulness of the Soviet leaflet, which promises prisoners of war a “good life.” S. piously believing in this holy truth, begins to persuade the German. Having learned about this dispute, the commander in anger orders to shoot the captured Fritz, so as not to doubt. And the order was entrusted to S. to “not get discouraged,” “did not belong to the prisoner’s position, but to the orderly to follow…” But S. can not shoot a prisoner, even an enemy. Now he is unarmed, weak. He was promised a “good life”, how can you now deceive him. C. is before a moral choice. The hero saves the fact that the thought-out commander cancels his order. S. manages not to violate the moral law,