- S-forty seven...

– Why “Vasya”? It's time for a middle name.

- Who calls us by our patronymics? – Vasily was taken aback. – I’m not used to it somehow. In general, my father’s name was Gregory. He died at the front. In forty-two. In the midst of it. The mother is alone, both in the field and at home... But is she a woman, can she really raise a boy? Here a man’s hand is needed... So life has cracked.

– Is your mother alive? – Fyodor Nikolaevich asked carefully.

Vasily pulled his head into his shoulders and sniffed: