congratulated. - I'm notjoking! Come on, dear, what is it with you? Can't you see? We're either officers serving our Czar and Fatherland, rejoicing over our common success or mourning our common failure, or we're lackeys who don't give a damn about the master's affairs. Forty thousand people have died, our ally's army has been destroyed, and you are able to joke about it. Only silly kids can amuse themselves in this way. Isn't it charming how the Gascons show what they're made of? Well? Three of them go and seize a bridge. The French cross the bridge and their army gets across the Danube. But if the French have crossed the Thabor Bridge, that means Kutuzov's army is cut off, it is doomed! That's what it looks like. Wait, I have some plans for you for this evening. She is delightful, isn't she? Happy is the man who will possess her. With her, the most unworldly husband would automatically take a prominent position in society, don't you think so? - I wanted to know your opinion. - Yes, yes, she's beautiful. Well, goodbye, Prince. And God protect you. May your great endeavor succeed. You have my blessing. Get in with me. Permit me to stay in General Bagration's detachment. Get in. I also need good officers on my staff. I also need them. There's still much to be done. Much to be gone through. Should just one tenth of Bagration's soldiers return tomorrow, I'll be grateful to Almighty God. That's why I'd like to be assigned to this detachment. With 4,000 exhausted men, Bagration had been entrusted to delay the entire enemy army for twenty-four hours. This respite was indispensable to Kutuzov in order for him to get his transport-burdened army out of reach of the French troops, outnumbering his own three to one. Gentlemen, what does this mean? You can't leave your posts! Take you, Captain. You should be ashamed of yourself, Captain Tushin. An officer should set a good example, and where're your boots? If the alarm were sounded, you'd be in your stocking feet! Wouldn't that be a pretty sight? So return to your posts, gentlemen. The soldiers say you go faster without boots on. Will you return to your posts? It was getting closer and closer, that special moment, for which so much work had been done and so much hardship endured, for which soldiers had been drilled for fifteen years, homes and families left, and a peasant turned into a warrior, for which 80,000 men lived in the field, without wives and children, without participation in the affairs of civil life, moving through a strange, unknown country. They lived in the fields, on the roads, in the woods, neglecting all the amenities of a habitual human life. For all those men, a road was not the way to their family, pleasures or work, but a way of bypassing or attacking, a house was not the hearth and home, but the ambush position, people were not their brothers, but the tools and the necessary victims of death. No, my friend, if a man could know what would be after his death, none of us would fear death. That's how it is, my friend. Fear it or not, you won't escape it. But you fear it anyway... There, you smart people. You artillerymen are so smart because you can take everything with you, both vodka and snacks. And still you fear. Uncertainty, that's what one fears most. Though they say that your soul will go to Heaven... We know there's no Heaven, it's all just the atmosphere. Come on, give us a taste of your herbal vodka, Tushin. With my pleasure. And yet, to fathom your future life... It has begun! Here it is! It has begun! The battle! It's terrible, but glorious! It has begun! That's it! It has begun! That's it! Two points up should do it. Load, Medvedev! Schoengraben is burning! Please, Your Highness, come away from here. Please, Your Highness! For God's sake! Can't you see what's happening? The French! Fine looking soldiers. Left, left...
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