["Kersnovskaya! Bundle your things and - to the guard post!"
I have no belongings except a towel, a shirt and a spare tunic. I bundled within five minutes, said goodbye and - come on! Misty vision, a lump in the throat... It hurts! I was able to accustom to them, to come to love my charges I had literally regained from death.
And here is a small, very small camp station. We are building only one facility, the Komsomol Club.]
Eddy wind shook the walls of the half-constructed building of the Youth League Club. What did impel me in that lunch-hour (without lunch) to go for the risky walk over unfinished walls? Was it a desire to try my fate? Confidence that he that is born to be hanged shall never be drowned and I haven't yet experienced everything I am to experience? Or simple fatalism? I don't know...
After I came down, the foreman lashed out at me,
"Have you gone crazy? Are you a sleep-walker? Or spelled from death? Don't you see the wind is throwing the bricks off the walls?..