Only Old Men Are Going to Battle Page #6

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Our goal is to throw them

out of there!

There'll be a horrible fight.

Only "old men" go

to battle today.

Onto your horses, boys!

- What about us?

- No talking.

Don't be in a hurry, boys.

You'll get your share of fighting.

Those kids... You know

what's the most difficult in our work?

Rummaging in the engine at -30.

The most difficult part

is waiting.

That's some way to land.

Some "old men", my ass.

- Romeo, hold on the machine.

- I can't see anything.

Hold on the machine!

All right, we're landing.

Reduce speed. Reduce speed.

I can't see anything, Commander.

Stay cool, Romeo. we'll land.

Pull the handle.

Get ready, we're landing. Switch off

the ignition. Good work, boy!

Break the door!

Doctor!

Step back, everybody!

What?

I've landed, Commander.

Makarych.

Please, do it yourself.

You go and tell Masha.

Yeah...

The girls, regiment is gone.

Perhaps, it's better

this way?

Romeo's still alive for her.

Commander!

Commander.

When the war is over,

we'll come back here,

walk over these places...

those who survive.

And we'll have the best

symphony orchestra, all in tails.

The conductor will come out.

I'll approach him and say...

Let them play for us...

Well, you know... I'll do it.

I'll say:
"Excuse me, Maestro.

Let me do it. "

And we'll sing "The Darkie"!

From the very beginning to the end.

And the grass of the steppe smells of

bitterness,

The young winds so green evermore.

We wake up in the night

to the thunderbolts

Either of a storm or the echo of

our past war...

We wake up in the night

to the thunderbolts

Either of a storm or the echo of

our past war...

I'll get up before the dawn and go

walking

Over a wide field as the day gathers.

So strange my memory is working:

I remember what has happened to

others.

Drops of rain beating the cheeks

weathered;

Twenty years for the world is little,

rather.

I have never known the boy who

promised:

"Wait for me, I shall return, Mother... "

And the grass of the steppe smells of

bitterness,

The young winds so green evermore...

Dedicated to all who did not return

from operational flight.

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