Garshin Vsevolod Mikhailovich
Four days
Garshin Vsevolod Mikhailovich
Four days
I remember how we ran through the forest, how the bullets buzzed, how the branches they tore off fell, how we made our way through the hawthorn bushes. The shots became more frequent. Something red appeared through the edge of the forest, flashing here and there. Sidorov, a young soldier of the first company (“how did he get into our chain?” flashed through my head), suddenly sat down to the ground and silently looked back at me with big, frightened eyes. A stream of blood was flowing from his mouth. Yes, I remember it well. I also remember how almost at the edge, in the thick bushes, I saw... him. He was a huge fat Turk, but I ran straight towards him, although I am weak and thin. Something slammed, something, it seemed to me; a huge one flew past; my ears were ringing. “He shot at me,” I thought. And with a cry of horror he pressed his back against a thick hawthorn bush. It was possible to go around the bush, but from fear he did not remember anything and climbed onto the thorny branches. With one blow I knocked his gun out of his hands, with another I stuck my bayonet somewhere. Something either growled or groaned. Then I ran on. Our people shouted “Hurray!”, fell, and shot. I remember, and I fired several shots, having already left the forest, in a clearing. Suddenly the “hurray” sounded louder, and we immediately moved forward. That is, not us, but ours, because I stayed. This seemed strange to me. What was even stranger was that suddenly everything disappeared; all the screams and shots stopped. I didn't hear anything, but saw only something blue; it must have been heaven. Yotom and it disappeared.
I have never been in such a strange position. I seem to be lying on my stomach and see only a small piece of earth in front of me. A few blades of grass, an ant crawling with one of them upside down, some pieces of rubbish from last year’s grass - this is my whole world, and I see it only with one eye, because the other is clamped by something hard, it must be a branch on which my head rests. I feel terribly embarrassed, and I want, but I absolutely don’t understand why I can’t, to move. This is how time passes. I hear the clicking of grasshoppers, the buzzing of bees. There is nothing more. Finally, I make an effort, release my right arm from under me and, pressing both hands on the ground, I want to kneel.
Something sharp and fast, like lightning, pierces my entire body from my knees to my chest and head, and I fall again. Again darkness, again nothing.
I woke up. Why do I see stars that glow so brightly in the black and blue Bulgarian sky? Am I not in a tent? Why did I get out of it? I move and feel excruciating pain in my legs.
Yes, I was wounded in battle. Dangerous or not? I grab my legs where it hurts. Both the right and left legs were covered with crusty blood. When I touch them with my hands, the pain is even worse. The pain is like a toothache: constant, tugging at the soul. There is a ringing in my ears, my head feels heavy. I vaguely understand that I was wounded in both legs. What is this? Why didn't they pick me up? Did the Turks really defeat us? I begin to remember what happened to me, at first vaguely, then more clearly, and I come to the conclusion that we are not broken at all. Because I fell (I don’t remember this, however, but I remember how everyone ran forward, but I couldn’t run, and all I had left was something blue before my eyes) - and I fell in a clearing at the top of the hill. Our small battalion showed us to this clearing. "Guys, we'll be there!" - he shouted to us in his ringing voice. And we were there: that means we are not broken... Why didn’t they pick me up? After all, here, in the clearing, there is an open place, everything is visible. After all, I’m probably not the only one lying here. They shot so often. You need to turn your head and look. Now it’s more convenient to do this, because even then, when I woke up, I saw grass and an ant crawling upside down, while trying to get up, I did not fall into my previous position, but turned on my back. That's why I can see these stars.
I rise and sit down. This is difficult when both legs are broken. Several times you have to despair; Finally, with tears in my eyes from pain, I sit down.
Above me is a piece of black-blue sky, on which a large star and several small ones are burning, and there is something dark and tall around. These are bushes. I'm in the bushes: they didn't find me!
I feel the roots of the hair on my head moving.
However, how did I end up in the bushes when they shot at me in the clearing? I must have been wounded, I crawled here, unconscious from the pain. The only strange thing is that now I can’t move, but then I managed to drag myself to these bushes. Or maybe I only had one wound then and another bullet finished me off here.
Pale pinkish spots appeared around me. The big star turned pale, several small ones disappeared. This is the moon rising. How nice it is to be home now!..
Some strange sounds reach me... As if someone was moaning. Yes, it's a groan. Is there someone just as forgotten lying next to me, with broken legs or a bullet in the stomach? No, the moans are so close, and it seems like there is no one around me... My God, but it’s me! Quiet, plaintive moans; Am I really in that much pain? It must be. Only I don’t understand this pain, because there’s fog and lead in my head. It's better to lie down and sleep, sleep, sleep... But will I ever wake up? It does not matter.
At that moment, when I am about to be caught, a wide pale strip of moonlight clearly illuminates the place where I am lying, and I see something dark and large lying about five steps from me. Here and there you can see reflections from the moonlight. These are buttons or ammunition. Is this a corpse or a wounded person?
Anyway, I'll go to bed...
No, it can not be! Ours didn't leave. They are here, they knocked out the Turks and remained in this position. Why is there no talking, no crackling of fires? But because I’m weak, I can’t hear anything. They're probably here.
Help!.. Help!
Wild, crazy hoarse screams burst from my chest, and there is no answer to them. They echo loudly in the night air. Everything else is silent. Only the crickets are still chirping restlessly. Luna looks at me pitifully with her round face.
If he had been wounded, he would have woken up from such a scream. This is a corpse. Ours or the Turks? Oh my god! As if it doesn't matter! And sleep falls on my sore eyes!
I lie with my eyes closed, although I have already woken up a long time ago. I don’t want to open my eyes, because I feel the sunlight through my closed eyelids: if I open my eyes, it will cut them. And it’s better not to move... Yesterday (I think it was yesterday?) I was wounded; A day has passed, others will pass, I will die. Doesn't matter. It's better not to move. Let the body be still. How nice it would be to stop the brain working too! But nothing can stop her. Thoughts and memories are crowded in my head. However, all this is not for long, it will end soon. Only a few lines will remain in the newspapers, saying that our losses are insignificant: so many were wounded; Private soldier Ivanov was killed. No, they won’t write down their names either; They will simply say: one was killed. One private, like that one little dog...
I remember how we ran through the forest, how the bullets buzzed, how the branches they tore off fell, how we made our way through the hawthorn bushes. The shots became more frequent. Something red appeared through the edge of the forest, flashing here and there. Sidorov, a young soldier of the first company (“how did he get into our chain?” flashed through my head), suddenly sat down to the ground and silently looked back at me with big, frightened eyes. A stream of blood was flowing from his mouth. Yes, I remember it well. I also remember how almost at the edge, in the thick bushes, I saw... his. He was a huge fat Turk, but I ran straight towards him, although I am weak and thin. Something slammed, something huge, it seemed to me, flew past; my ears were ringing. “He shot at me,” I thought. And with a cry of horror he pressed his back against a thick hawthorn bush. It was possible to go around the bush, but from fear he did not remember anything and climbed onto the thorny branches. With one blow I knocked his gun out of his hands, with another I stuck my bayonet somewhere. Something either growled or groaned. Then I ran on. Our people shouted “Hurray!”, fell, and shot. I remember, and I fired several shots, having already left the forest, in a clearing. Suddenly the “hurray” sounded louder, and we immediately moved forward. That is, not us, but ours, because I stayed. This seemed strange to me. What was even stranger was that suddenly everything disappeared; all the screams and shots stopped. I didn't hear anything, but saw only something blue; it must have been heaven. Then it disappeared too.
I have never been in such a strange position. I seem to be lying on my stomach and see only a small piece of earth in front of me. A few blades of grass, an ant crawling with one of them upside down, some pieces of rubbish from last year’s grass - this is my whole world, and I see it only with one eye, because the other is clamped by something hard, it must be a branch on which my head rests. I feel terribly embarrassed, and I want, but I absolutely don’t understand why I can’t, to move. This is how time passes. I hear the clicking of grasshoppers, the buzzing of bees. There is nothing more. Finally, I make an effort, release my right arm from under me and, pressing both hands on the ground, I want to kneel.
Something sharp and fast, like lightning, pierces my entire body from my knees to my chest and head, and I fall again. Again darkness, again nothing.
I woke up. Why do I see stars that glow so brightly in the black and blue Bulgarian sky? Am I not in a tent? Why did I get out of it? I move and feel excruciating pain in my legs.
Yes, I was wounded in battle. Dangerous or not? I grab my legs where it hurts. Both the right and left legs were covered with crusty blood. When I touch them with my hands, the pain is even worse. The pain is like a toothache: constant, tugging at the soul. There is a ringing in my ears, my head feels heavy. I vaguely understand that I was wounded in both legs. What is this? Why didn't they pick me up? Did the Turks really defeat us? I begin to remember what happened to me, at first vaguely, then more clearly, and I come to the conclusion that we are not broken at all. Because I fell (I don’t remember this, however, but I remember how everyone ran forward, but I couldn’t run, and all I had left was something blue before my eyes) - and I fell in a clearing at the top of the hill. Our small battalion showed us to this clearing. “Guys, we will be there!” - he shouted to us in his ringing voice. And we were there: that means we are not broken... Why didn’t they pick me up? After all, here, in the clearing, there is an open place, everything is visible. After all, I’m probably not the only one lying here. They shot so often. You need to turn your head and look. Now it’s more convenient to do this, because even then, when I woke up, I saw grass and an ant crawling upside down, while trying to get up, I did not fall into my previous position, but turned on my back. That's why I can see these stars.
I rise and sit down. This is difficult when both legs are broken. Several times you have to despair; Finally, with tears in my eyes from pain, I sit down.
Above me is a piece of black-blue sky, on which a large star and several small ones are burning, and there is something dark and tall around. These are bushes. I'm in the bushes: they didn't find me!
Garshin Vsevolod Mikhailovich
Four days
Garshin Vsevolod Mikhailovich
Four days
I remember how we ran through the forest, how the bullets buzzed, how the branches they tore off fell, how we made our way through the hawthorn bushes. The shots became more frequent. Something red appeared through the edge of the forest, flashing here and there. Sidorov, a young soldier of the first company (“how did he get into our chain?” flashed through my head), suddenly sat down to the ground and silently looked back at me with big, frightened eyes. A stream of blood was flowing from his mouth. Yes, I remember it well. I also remember how almost at the edge, in the thick bushes, I saw... him. He was a huge fat Turk, but I ran straight towards him, although I am weak and thin. Something slammed, something, it seemed to me; a huge one flew past; my ears were ringing. “He shot at me,” I thought. And with a cry of horror he pressed his back against a thick hawthorn bush. It was possible to go around the bush, but from fear he did not remember anything and climbed onto the thorny branches. With one blow I knocked his gun out of his hands, with another I stuck my bayonet somewhere. Something either growled or groaned. Then I ran on. Our people shouted “Hurray!”, fell, and shot. I remember, and I fired several shots, having already left the forest, in a clearing. Suddenly the “hurray” sounded louder, and we immediately moved forward. That is, not us, but ours, because I stayed. This seemed strange to me. What was even stranger was that suddenly everything disappeared; all the screams and shots stopped. I didn't hear anything, but saw only something blue; it must have been heaven. Yotom and it disappeared.
I have never been in such a strange position. I seem to be lying on my stomach and see only a small piece of earth in front of me. A few blades of grass, an ant crawling with one of them upside down, some pieces of rubbish from last year’s grass - this is my whole world, and I see it only with one eye, because the other is clamped by something hard, it must be a branch on which my head rests. I feel terribly embarrassed, and I want, but I absolutely don’t understand why I can’t, to move. This is how time passes. I hear the clicking of grasshoppers, the buzzing of bees. There is nothing more. Finally, I make an effort, release my right arm from under me and, pressing both hands on the ground, I want to kneel.
Something sharp and fast, like lightning, pierces my entire body from my knees to my chest and head, and I fall again. Again darkness, again nothing.
I woke up. Why do I see stars that glow so brightly in the black and blue Bulgarian sky? Am I not in a tent? Why did I get out of it? I move and feel excruciating pain in my legs.
Yes, I was wounded in battle. Dangerous or not? I grab my legs where it hurts. Both the right and left legs were covered with crusty blood. When I touch them with my hands, the pain is even worse. The pain is like a toothache: constant, tugging at the soul. There is a ringing in my ears, my head feels heavy. I vaguely understand that I was wounded in both legs. What is this? Why didn't they pick me up? Did the Turks really defeat us? I begin to remember what happened to me, at first vaguely, then more clearly, and I come to the conclusion that we are not broken at all. Because I fell (I don’t remember this, however, but I remember how everyone ran forward, but I couldn’t run, and all I had left was something blue before my eyes) - and I fell in a clearing at the top of the hill. Our small battalion showed us to this clearing. "Guys, we'll be there!" - he shouted to us in his ringing voice. And we were there: that means we are not broken... Why didn’t they pick me up? After all, here, in the clearing, there is an open place, everything is visible. After all, I’m probably not the only one lying here. They shot so often. You need to turn your head and look. Now it’s more convenient to do this, because even then, when I woke up, I saw grass and an ant crawling upside down, while trying to get up, I did not fall into my previous position, but turned on my back. That's why I can see these stars.
I rise and sit down. This is difficult when both legs are broken. Several times you have to despair; Finally, with tears in my eyes from pain, I sit down.
Above me is a piece of black-blue sky, on which a large star and several small ones are burning, and there is something dark and tall around. These are bushes. I'm in the bushes: they didn't find me!
I feel the roots of the hair on my head moving.
However, how did I end up in the bushes when they shot at me in the clearing? I must have been wounded, I crawled here, unconscious from the pain. The only strange thing is that now I can’t move, but then I managed to drag myself to these bushes. Or maybe I only had one wound then and another bullet finished me off here.
The story describes one of the episodes of the Russian-Turkish war. Soldier Ivanov runs along with everyone else to take the heights. He is very scared. The huge Turk who was right in front of him was also scared. Ivanov was quicker and stuck his bayonet right into the Turk’s heart. The soldier himself was wounded in this battle.
Consciousness slowly returned: he remembers that they shouted “Hurray!” and ran forward. And now I saw only ants and a piece of earth. The soldier realized that he was wounded in both legs. It is difficult, unbearably painful, he cannot move. I'm thirsty.
A large flask of water hangs on the side of the Turk he killed. Overcoming himself, Ivanov crawls to the dead man and takes the flask. Decay has already touched the corpse: the skin is bubbling and sliding off the face, there is a disgusting smell. Water helps you come to your senses. A soldier talks about a Turk who came to war against his own will and was killed by a bayonet. His old mother will be waiting for her son.
His life passes before the clouded consciousness of the wounded man. He remembers his mother and girlfriend Masha. A memory comes to mind of a crushed white dog, which the janitor hit to kill it and threw it into the trash can. And the dog lived for another whole day. The soldier compares himself to this dog and regrets that death does not come to him.
It is impossible to be near the corpse of a Turk. The smell is such that it turns a soldier inside out. Suddenly he hears voices, but is afraid to shout: maybe they are Turks. Then he regrets it: it would have been better if they had finished him off. He loses consciousness again.
Four days later he was found. They were surprised how he could survive. One leg had to be amputated.
The story teaches that you should never give up.
Lomonosov dedicated this work to his curator, Ivan Ivanovich Shuvalov, a teacher at Moscow State University. The author wanted this poem to surpass in importance
The events of Vladimir Soloukhin’s story “Under One Roof” unfold between several main characters - two families who live in an ordinary village house for two owners. The story is narrated from the husband's point of view.
Italian playwright Carlo Gozzi was born into a large aristocratic family. His parents were not rich, and in his youth Gozzi had to join the army to improve his financial situation
The title of the work contains the name of the main character, an extraordinary person respected in Sicily. He is known there as a proud and honest man, a brilliant shooter, although Matteo has settled down
The main character of the work is a certain Charles Marlowe. At one time he worked as a captain on a ship. The ship belonged to an ivory mining company. He tells a story that happened to himself
Vsevolod Mikhailovich Garshin
Four days
I remember how we ran through the forest, how the bullets buzzed, how the branches they tore off fell, how we made our way through the hawthorn bushes. The shots became more frequent. Something red appeared through the edge of the forest, flashing here and there. Sidorov, a young soldier of the first company (“how did he get into our chain?” flashed through my head), suddenly sat down to the ground and silently looked back at me with big, frightened eyes. A stream of blood was flowing from his mouth. Yes, I remember it well. I also remember how almost at the edge, in the thick bushes, I saw... him. He was a huge fat Turk, but I ran straight towards him, although I am weak and thin. Something slammed, something, it seemed to me; a huge one flew past; my ears were ringing. “He shot at me,” I thought. And with a cry of horror he pressed his back against a thick hawthorn bush. It was possible to go around the bush, but from fear he did not remember anything and climbed onto the thorny branches. With one blow I knocked his gun out of his hands, with another I stuck my bayonet somewhere. Something either growled or groaned. Then I ran on. Our people shouted “Hurray!”, fell, and shot. I remember, and I fired several shots, having already left the forest, in a clearing. Suddenly the “hurray” sounded louder, and we immediately moved forward. That is, not us, but ours, because I stayed. This seemed strange to me. What was even stranger was that suddenly everything disappeared; all the screams and shots stopped. I didn't hear anything, but saw only something blue; it must have been heaven. Then it disappeared too.
I have never been in such a strange position. I seem to be lying on my stomach and see only a small piece of earth in front of me. A few blades of grass, an ant crawling with one of them upside down, some pieces of rubbish from last year’s grass - this is my whole world, and I see it only with one eye, because the other is clamped by something hard, it must be a branch on which my head rests. I feel terribly embarrassed, and I want, but I absolutely don’t understand why I can’t, to move. This is how time passes. I hear the clicking of grasshoppers, the buzzing of bees. There is nothing more. Finally, I make an effort, release my right arm from under me and, pressing both hands on the ground, I want to kneel.
Something sharp and fast, like lightning, pierces my entire body from my knees to my chest and head, and I fall again. Again darkness, again nothing.
I woke up. Why do I see stars that glow so brightly in the black and blue Bulgarian sky? Am I not in a tent? Why did I get out of it? I move and feel excruciating pain in my legs.
Yes, I was wounded in battle. Dangerous or not? I grab my legs where it hurts. Both the right and left legs were covered with crusty blood. When I touch them with my hands, the pain is even worse. The pain is like a toothache: constant, tugging at the soul. There is a ringing in my ears, my head feels heavy. I vaguely understand that I was wounded in both legs. What is this? Why didn't they pick me up? Did the Turks really defeat us? I begin to remember what happened to me, at first vaguely, then more clearly, and I come to the conclusion that we are not broken at all. Because I fell (I don’t remember this, however, but I remember how everyone ran forward, but I couldn’t run, and all I had left was something blue before my eyes) - and I fell in a clearing at the top of the hill. Our small battalion showed us to this clearing. “Guys, we will be there!” - he shouted to us in his ringing voice. And we were there: that means we are not broken... Why didn’t they pick me up? After all, here, in the clearing, there is an open place, everything is visible. After all, I’m probably not the only one lying here. They shot so often. You need to turn your head and look. Now it’s more convenient to do this, because even then, when I woke up, I saw grass and an ant crawling upside down, while trying to get up, I did not fall into my previous position, but turned on my back. That's why I can see these stars.
I rise and sit down. This is difficult when both legs are broken. Several times you have to despair; Finally, with tears in my eyes from pain, I sit down.
Above me is a piece of black-blue sky, on which a large star and several small ones are burning, and there is something dark and tall around. These are bushes. I'm in the bushes: they didn't find me!
I feel the roots of the hair on my head moving.
However, how did I end up in the bushes when they shot at me in the clearing? I must have been wounded, I crawled here, unconscious from the pain. The only strange thing is that now I can’t move, but then I managed to drag myself to these bushes. Or maybe I only had one wound then and another bullet finished me off here.
Pale pinkish spots appeared around me. The big star turned pale, several small ones disappeared. This is the moon rising. How nice it is to be home now!..
Some strange sounds reach me... As if someone was moaning. Yes, this is a groan. Is there someone just as forgotten lying next to me, with broken legs or a bullet in the stomach? No, the moans are so close, and there seems to be no one around me... My God, but it’s me! Quiet, plaintive moans; Am I really in that much pain? It must be. Only I don’t understand this pain, because there’s fog and lead in my head. It’s better to lie down and sleep, sleep, sleep... But will I ever wake up? It does not matter.
At that moment, when I am about to be caught, a wide pale strip of moonlight clearly illuminates the place where I am lying, and I see something dark and large lying about five steps from me. Here and there you can see reflections from the moonlight. These are buttons or ammunition. Is this a corpse or a wounded person?
Anyway, I'll go to bed...
No, it can not be! Ours didn't leave. They are here, they knocked out the Turks and remained in this position. Why is there no talking, no crackling of fires? But because I’m weak, I can’t hear anything. They're probably here.
“Help!.. Help!”
Wild, crazy hoarse screams burst from my chest, and there is no answer to them. They echo loudly in the night air. Everything else is silent. Only the crickets are still chirping restlessly. Luna looks at me pitifully with her round face.
If he had been wounded, he would have woken up from such a scream. This is a corpse. Ours or the Turks? Oh my god! As if it doesn't matter! And sleep falls on my sore eyes!
I lie with my eyes closed, although I have already woken up a long time ago. I don’t want to open my eyes, because I feel the sunlight through my closed eyelids: if I open my eyes, it will cut them. And it’s better not to move... Yesterday (I think it was yesterday?) I was wounded; A day has passed, others will pass, I will die. Doesn't matter. It's better not to move. Let the body be still. How nice it would be to stop the brain working too! But nothing can stop her. Thoughts and memories are crowded in my head. However, all this is not for long, it will end soon. Only a few lines will remain in the newspapers, saying that our losses are insignificant: so many were wounded; Private soldier Ivanov was killed. No, they won’t write down their names either; They will simply say: one was killed. One private, like that one little dog...
The whole picture flashes brightly in my imagination.
