The division goes through the swamp

The division goes through the swampOur current home reminds Division, which goes through the swamp. Around impassable swamp, the troops will leave on solid ground and expand their coming. The tanks are buried in a sticky mess, go under the water, blowing bubbles heavy. The guns bogged down in the mire of caustic acid. The soldiers dragged on for themselves heavy trunks, pushing hands wheels, toil, tearing out of the carriages of the swamp. Someone falls into the mire, and falls into the abyss. 1st able to save, and the other way and without any traces left by the green duckweed.

In this clanking, wheezing nadryvistoy division commander — the one who keeps the soldier from the panic that makes their greedy cool commands confidence, forcing through force, through terror, through a nightmare, a tear to move troops. On his head with a bloody bandage rusty stain. Here he ordered the musicians to play a marching march. The musicians, bitten by mosquitoes, swollen lips blow to their strshnye copper pipes, pounding drums, beat the heart-rending brass plates.

In the middle division — flag bearer: tired, gray-haired, with a shrouded flag, which is not yet time to open. It's all cut up and excised with bullets and shrapnel, sooty, dirty. He holds a banner, fearing to release their own ossified feeble hands. Division moves through these swamps, pushing trucks with ammunition, wagons, vans with reddish crosses, in which the wounded groan. And with each mile are fewer and fewer soldiers and fighter. However, forward, forward, forward, only forward!

On both sides of gurgles and champs mysterious, angry, bitter swamp. From under the green mounds suddenly look out any strshny brownie scream vicious witch fly marsh — membranous, with a heavy black beak — a bird. Spirits marshes scare, bullied, squeal and laugh. From above, a skinny little live Christmas trees and pine trees, swooped down enemy aircraft, bombards a column in a swamp. Explosions everywhere, stumps of legs, hands, rugged, scarred body. Come on! Come on!

The division will be held this terrible plot their own way of fighting, will be released on the firmament, and the machines, "rattling fire, sparkling glitter of steel, go to your own angry march." And achieved its goal. And to prevail.

Our homeland — is division, moving through the swamp, and the Russian victory will inevitably won, despite all the sacrifices, all the stately, unaffordable for other peoples work and deprivation.

What will be the image of this victory? It is unrealistic to outline and write in a study, political science centers, workshops of painters. The image of victory will be born there, where there is a fight where the fight is, where are committed deeds, miracles. Among majestic betrayals, in the midst of majestic deceptions, in the midst of majestic prayerful deeds and accomplishments — there will be won this victory, and we find out what features it will accept.

It is clear that the Russian victory — Is constant for each generation of Russian, for each era of the Russian dream of a perfect being, a paradise of perfect life, the perfect society, the brotherhood, the love that should exist between voedinyzhdy people. This nature reserve dream of a higher divine justice, which was among righteous men of old times, in the middle of "Reds" heroes, throw a Nazi tanks. A dream that lives now in the middle mocked humiliated people.

Russian victory will be associated with the restoration of the majestic Eurasian space in which unite into one family in a single choir all eternity peoples living here, will return to the bosom of the general Eurasian empire — an empire of a new type. Empire, where there will be no ruling of the ruling of the people, nor a single dominant among these spaces of the capital. A choir will be people, the constellation capitals, the alliance of free nations, to unite their resources, their culture, their place, their own winds, its rivers, its own prophets and its own heroes.

The Russian victory connected with the inevitable, fast, and powerful development, when our country will again build the ultra-modern factory, creating unprecedented technologies to manage the processes of nature, the human psyche, in a human mind. When a person's life will be extended right up to infinity. When medicine, ethics and also religion, and social sciences will be dedicated to only one: overcoming the fear death, fear frailty, fear of corruption. When the idea of the Easter resurrection becomes the ideology of the majestic country.

How to gain the victory? Naturally, due to its acquisition of battles with the works, with a continuous stubborn Delaney, overcoming apathy inside the majestic, stately confidence, majestic gloom. And it is the overcoming of this transformation should envelop as each individual, including the leader and commander, and all people in general.

What will be the future of this Russian? What draws the picture of our imagination? We can afford only fleeting, full of hopes and prayers sketches, connected to the victorious Russian symphonic picture of the future. But it later, not at the moment. And at this point — swamp, terrible snags, creepy bats, poking and squishing the terrible red tongues out of each bump, utopshego from each tree. Trucks that are on hand to bring to the fighters themselves. Wheel guns that get stuck in the mud. Tanks that crunched causeway, pushed his crew. Come on! Come on! Come on!

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