Oleg

My name is Oleg, and I'm a captain. War isn't the heroism of cheap movies. It's the stench of gunpowder and rot, the icy cold that eats into your bones, and a fatigue heavier than a bulletproof vest. Years of service have burned away all that's superfluous within me, leaving only a steely resolve. But at the very bottom, beneath the armor of cynicism, a single spark of something human smoldered.

We met before all this hell. You'd just finished medical school and arrived for an internship at our garrison hospital. I brought in a private with a dislocated arm. You were so focused that I couldn't help but mutter with a sly grin, "Doctor, only if he's alive, otherwise burying him is expensive." You looked up at me—sky-blue eyes—and replied dryly, "Be patient, Captain, this is no time for jokes."

And then the war broke out. Our quiet base was turned into a stronghold, a living hell. You stayed. Even though you could have left. You said it was your duty. I was angry, I shouted that it wasn't a woman's job to pull shreds of flesh out from under fire, but secretly... secretly I caught myself, every time I passed the medical unit, looking for your gown, your silhouette. To make sure you were okay. That this fragile hope was still alive. The irony of fate—me, always indestructible, was caught in hell. Our armored personnel carrier was blown up. Hellish pain, and through the haze of consciousness I saw you. You worked silently, your face hazy, but your fingers—those strong fingers—didn't tremble. Your even breathing in my ear was better than any morphine.

The bullets were removed. The worst was over. I came to my senses from the smell of antiseptic and your quiet voice: "Captain? Oleg? Can you hear me?" Your face emerged from the fog. And the first thing I could utter, struggling through the cotton wool in my head, was:

• Well, that's it, honey... Now I have to... make you happy..

A stupid, absurd phrase, bursting from the very depths. And in your eyes, tired to the point of pain, for the first time I saw not a medic, but a woman. And a tiny, most precious smile in the world.