At work, colleagues-men from the office were presented on February 23 the most expensive cheap postcards with hamsters in camouflage trussels and officer fours and all day filled with banality about our defenders. At the same time, almost everyone who depicted a fierce love for the dissertation until 27, who suffers from a deadly form of flatfoot, who runs straight away from the military committee... At lunch, everyone slipped to the office kitchen to celebrate, and the retired major Petrov promptly removed a bottle of cognac from the table and went to drink with translators - those at least all military obliged.