We go on a patrol with the senior. We meet a student with a violation of the shape of clothes. It’s summer, it’s hot, with three open buttons. We are going to ask him for documents to record the data and pass on to the command, and he asks him not to smoke, such as he is an athlete, he is going to go to some zone competitions in Kaliningrad and he really wants to go there, and for such a flight can also get away from the national team.

Our senior is an ambitious man, and he says that he is also an athlete at all, and here is about 500 meters to the red barrel, let's say, we will bet: if a student runs faster, then they will let him go, and if he loses, they will give up with a little bit. Well, standing on the line, I commanded: “At the start – Attention – March.”

At the first hundred meters, our commander went into a good break, but I did not have time to boast of them, as it turned out that at the second hundred meters the student turned to the nearest street, and while the commander, rushing to the goal, noticed this, the student had already left the trail.

The ruler, when he goes on a long journey, should not call with him friends, but those who are dangerous to leave in the capital.

In 1993, the French electrician Emile Lere drove his "Citroen 2CV" through Morocco (where and why - history is silent). He had a full tank, a supply of water and food, 2 additional fuel cans and a trailer.
After leaving the city of Tan-Tan to the southeast, Emile was stopped by the military at the post in Tilem. “The road is closed! A zone of armed conflict between Morocco and Western Sahara.
Emil turned around. Having taken a decent distance, he turned off the road and went deep into the desert, hoping to bypass the forbidden zone. Driving around it was quite acceptable. Only occasionally the car jumped on the rocks naked. Lare used to the shocks of the suspension and decided to increase the speed a little. On one of the fingers, the car jumped a little higher and knocked his nose with a loud metal scratch.
The inspection showed that the lower lever of the suspension and the front part of the frame was broken, the front axle was bended. Lere dismantled the car and came to the conclusion that it was impossible to repair under such conditions.
Not walking to people. But there is a supply of food and water for a few days, a tool and a bunch of spare parts. Why not build a motorcycle from steel?
Thro the night, Emile was thinking about all the complexities of the project: how, what, how long. There is no right to error in the desert. Finally, I decided to build. I started 2CV this morning.
The body he did not break down, adapted under the housing. In order not to burn at work, I had to make shorts with short sleeves. Of the tools were keys, cloves, hammer and metal scissors. To make a hole in the sheet of metal, Lere bended it in half, cut it off with a scissor, bended and beat out the weakened plate of metal. Of course, when assembling he tried to use the already existing holes. It was especially difficult to regulate the gas and traction. The drives had to be disassembled and reworked many times, until, finally, the "steel camel" began to obediently touch and accelerate. Managing the "apparatus" was fucking difficult with a weight of about 200 kg.
All the work took 12 days.
The water had already ended when Lere drove to civilization on a trampoline without brakes.
The first police patrol fined him for driving an unregistered vehicle.

Life has taught me two important lessons. I don’t remember the first one, and the second one needs to be recorded.