THE CHRONICAL

Believe me,he wanted to shoot twice.But this time,with an unsucessful result.The two bullets hit the window of the jeep.The recruit stopped singing to crouch behind the wheel.He, shot into the air, while, trying to find out where  the shots were coming from.Olinov wish to let him live.From the bridge,he could see the best model of the r- 32 rapid.The tank at that time invincible.Then,he wanted to remember,the phrase of confucius,about the surrender of the soul.He was able to observe how,the commander of the battle tank,looked at him through binoculars.   

When he wanted to realize it,he was lying down,aiming precisely at sergeant Trevor. He was sweating ,with that hot sweat of those decisive moments he wanted.He wanted to aim at the heart.He shot !.The soldier seemed to wink before dying.Never, he asked himself again,because his soul, no longer wanted to know why he killed ?.Surely the boy not be more than twenty years old.His mother would wait for his return,every night.Last christmas he gave her a stainless steer frying pan.Later,he wanted to shoot the recruit.He observed,the green of the jeep.A green so similar to the forest of his town.The Borhim Valley.What a dream of pilongas chestnuts.Then remenber the chestnuts wars in the town.It is true that wars are always started by the young men from the city.The boys from the town have enough with work.  

Olinov, ( of the Olinov of a timelife ),wanted to observe ,for a moment,his party of partisans.Then ,he began to roll a cigarette,which one day the legionnaire brought him from his bar in Marsella.What those days in France - he murmured - while for a moment,he thought,he semeed to see madame Lulu singing "soldat".The contact with his M1 carbine seemed to wake him up.Then on the horizon,he thought he saw a small jeep "beetle ".Who were they ?.For sure,a small courier in the direction of Moscow.