I was in the field as usual, behind my favorite mortar from the Alabuga company. After another volley at the enemy fortifications, I took out my radio and began listening to further instructions from my superiors. After receiving orders to move to another position, I turned off the radio, but immediately received a strong blow to the head with a shovel from someone behind me, causing me to faint. A few hours later, I woke up in an old bed in a windowless, unventilated room. It appeared to be a basement converted into living quarters. There were gasoline lamps in the corners and on the tables, and candles here and there. Surprisingly, the basement did not look particularly dusty or abandoned. In the basement, there were a few cabinets, a couple of tables with chairs, and two doors. One door was made entirely of wood, while the other was metal and looked sturdy. It seemed that the metal door led outside. Against the opposite wall was another bed, which looked a little neater than mine. There were also bones scattered here and there, along with tables with medicines and medical supplies in a chaotic order. Opposite me, I saw some shelves in the corner with what appeared to be my belongings on them. I tried to stand up, but my legs barely obeyed me and I fell to the floor with a crash, injuring my hand. Suddenly, I heard footsteps and a woman in a worn black military uniform entered the room. She dropped her backpack and approached me, saying: “What are you rustling, little bag? Let's be honest, I injected you with a little morphine, so for the next couple of hours you'll be like you have no legs, and maybe no arms either.” Then I realized that I could hardly feel my legs, and my arms and the rest of my body felt weak and tired.