«So that's how we were to meet! I gutted you and I will bury you... Forgive me, my brothers! It is pure play of chance that I am not with you!» I thought standing on the edge of a mass grave.
I worked without rest for the second day in a row. During this time I received 400 grams of bread and twice a ladle of thin broth. In the morning before work nurse Gutya called in the PIC. I told her that I was very tired after the work in the barracks. My words were met with a chorus of loud laughter... I did not understand what they are laughing at. When I asked to bandage the hands corroded with the bleach I heard in response that «they will heal sooner without».
So we are at the cemetery under the Shmitiha. Two of us got a task to earth one grave, about 200 goners covered with muddy water. You throw a shovel of clay on one of them - it will dive, flip over and... resurface again.