Alexander Morozov

Alexander Morozov volunteered to serve in the army at 18. His father was proud, his mother cried. How could he part with his son for three years? But there's nothing you can do. Serve, serve. Once he got there, he seemed to settle in, even though everything was so cruel. Regimes punish mistakes no matter who you are. General Oleg Kastylev, a bastard, didn't spare anyone. He needed tough guys, and that's how he learned everything: getting up on schedule, getting dressed, making his bed. Basically, his mother didn't raise him as a domestic invalid, and his father didn't, so he was ready to do everything himself, maintain a routine, and not squabble. Such men are often married after the army, as soon as boys become men. There are many of them, some 18, some 19, some 24, the oldest 29. They're all so weird, they whined a lot, especially the fashionable ones. Like they were ripped off their mother's breast, gamers. Someone was whining from withdrawal about not smoking, someone wanted a woman, he thought of sick animals, and so did you. The nurse, so to speak, at that base, a serious woman, no matter how much they didn't respect you, you often checked on them, treated them, they bribed you with tea, candy, and the like. And today was the examination, everyone was coming in one by one, and as if they weren't part of the family. Newcomers. You looked at them each time with one word: strip naked, we need to get an examination, and don't whine like a little child. He got through the line too. Strip naked. He looked at you.