soldiers were patrolling.
Our street was barricaded
with sacks of sand.
Only embrasures stuck out.
I fed Seryozha
and ran to the hospital.
And while I was away that night,
your father came home.
Right from the front line,
just for two hours.
He hadn't even woken you up.
Just kissed you and left.
What about me?
- You hadn't been born yet.
- Why not?
Just hadn't, and that's all.
I saw your father one more time
in the winter of 1943.
He lived at home
for a month after hospital.
Damn.
What is it?
Can't knot my tie.
You're going to suffocate me.
Got such a thick neck. You should be
put on a ration of 40 grams of oats.
- What do you need such a neck for?
- For my tie.
I'm off, Mom.
Olga Mikhailovna.
You won't be back late, will you?
No, not late.
I'm off.
Kolia dear, come home,
It's late already.
I got to go, too.
Goodbye.
-Thanks for your help.
- Not at all.
Sorry for writing curtly
and illegibly.
It's a horrible din,
the artillery preparation has begun.
As usual, I found just the right
time for writing a letter.
There're many Muscovites here,
even guys from our institute.
You know one of them -
It's Dimka Solovyov.
Remember him visiting us once
on October holidays?
I could have never imagined that
I'd sit in a trench and write to you.
Though, to be absolutely honest,
sometimes I had such a thought.
But I never believed that the fascists
would come so close to Moscow.
I don't know if I survive,
but I'm confident that Moscow will
survive, the USSR will survive.
Maybe we didn't say so very often,
but we always thought so.
That's all.
Kissing you and Seryozha.
The artillery's done its work.
Now it's our turn to go.
A whirl with events,
packed with jobs one too many...
packed with jobs one too many,
the day slowly sinks
as the night shadows fail.
Shadows fail.
As the night shadows fail.
Comrade Lenin,
I report to you
not by a dictate of office,
by the heart's prompting alone.
Comrade Lenin, the hellish work
that we're out to do
will be done
and is already being done.
And is already being done...
No, Seryozha, you're wrong.
I can't agree with you.
And it's not about Chernousov.
I don't give a damn about him.
What can he do to me?
But it pains me,
just pains me
that because of this situation
I may lose you,
a man very dear to me...
Congratulations.
I join in.
How old are you?
- Who asks such questions?
- 22.
Why we're not at the National?
Is a homemade pie in the making?
Aren't you tired of going
to the National Restaurant with him?
No, I'm not.
- And where do you go?
- From where it's easier to escape.
Where is that?
One can escape from anywhere
but the Petropavlovsk Fortress.
I got that idea last year.
- At your birthday party.
- I don't remember that.
I propose a toast
to Anya's parents.
I have no objections.
- We're not drinking that toast.
- Why not?
Why?
Because.
Let's assume I'm a foundling.
- She isn't doing badly as a foundling.
- She's an egotist.
I'm even better off,
I got no parents.
An orphan?
And where are they?
Near Smolensk.
Parents are for borrowing money
from them.
- Do they give you money?
- Not to me.
Perhaps they're right.
I can't believe that my daughter,
will treat her parents like that.
- How old is your daughter?
- She'll be 12 months soon.
A happy father.
Can't be happier.
Everyone can get that happy.
Why don't you have any children?
Do you have children?
We got no nanny,
we keep watch over our son.
It's not a son,
It's a sentry service.
They say if you have three babies
at once, you're given an apartment.
A great opportunity
to get rid of neighbors.
How can you know
how many you'll get at once?
Here's the man who could be
a father to a huge family.
You're mistaken.
I'm the man.
I've got an apartment.
Will Dolgoruky come?
- Who?
- Yuri Dolgoruky.
- How can he?
- Will come all the way here.
What were you just thinking about?
I have a feeling
that today