Mother was not home; she had gone to the town for news, so I followed here there. On the other side of the bridge over the Soroki River, about 50 metres upstream I came across an upturned vehicle lying in a ditch beside the road. A soldier's corpse lay next to it, covered with a groundsheet; a helmet had been placed over his face. On the edge of the road sat another soldier, clutching his rifle and looking very dismal. "What happened?" I asked. "Just look at this mountain!" he replied. "Would you really expect the brakes to hold on it?" I was amazed to hear this little slope called a 'mountain'. But everything is relative in this world!