[My responsibilities included flush cutting (without a hitch), disbarking of stubs all around and burn the woodwaste down... The branches are wet and don't burn in cold weather. And how can I carry heavy tops, poppets and logs?!]
The midnight was close at hand, he moon was setting. Bonfires were dying out, my strength was gone and I realised that it was impossible to do my daily stint... It was the first time when I surrendered myself to despair, clutching my head I collapsed on the snow. Then, I picked up the tools, put on the quilted jacket and went wobbling of hunger and fatigue.
The moon was down. Taiga was dark and hostile. You win, Khokhrin! I will struggle! Not for victory but for death with dignity. It was December 24, my birthday.