There were once two acquaintances with some kind of check-up at another super-supersecret airfield. At the end of the inspection, they went to the runway to smoke. They stand, smoke with a crowd of friends, watch the take-off of the bombers. And here, when this bomber itself is ripped from the strip, something suspiciously resembling an aircraft bomb, very small in size, falls from it and sharply rotates in their direction... In general, in a few fractions of a second, the whole crowd took a laying position in some cane and tried to dig into the ground. Only one gray like a moon, a burnt shelf remained standing with a proudly straight back, and he didn’t even throw a cigarette. When the bomb (and it was she) crashed almost to the colonel's feet, the rest began to escape from their shelters. And one young lieutenant asked, “Comrade Colonel, why didn’t you hide?” Polkan repaired his hairstyle, splashed a cigarette and replied, "Hull to hide, it is atomic."