In Porkhov I sit in the evening by candlelight at his tiny rough-hewn table and working on a manual for soldiers. Thickened with me, he was like a madman drowns our stove in the shack. Heat nice spreads through the body, driving away the last traces of numbness. Fortunately, the freshly cut trunks of birch trees do not need to dry, they burn so. Before the beginning of the offensive on the Russian did not know anybody. At the rear, finally there are special hospitals for treatment of frostbite.
Find and Download book
- Try another server.
- Try to reload page — press F5 on keyboard.
- Clear browser cache.
- Clear browser cookies.
- Try other browser.
- If you still getting an error — please contact us and we will fix this error ASAP.