On the eve of the great (without exaggeration, especially for the residents of the post-Soviet space) holiday, one thought struck my head. If I go back, at least in the early 1990s, when my grandfather-veteran led me to Victory Square as a child, I clearly remember how when I saw my little one (and not only me, but the other grandchildren brought with them by grandfathers), the veterans, as an order, said one phrase, the meaning of which is: "We fought for you to live in peace, and it is better for you not to know what we experienced and never to repeat." But as I grew up, I saw that the veterans became less and less, but the message of the remaining was unchanged. And now, when I see citizens who “can repeat,” I have this thought: it is a pity that these “repetitions” cannot be thrown there, in the 90s, when there were many veterans and many were not yet seventy. Oh, I would look at them! I think that the preventive conversation with the harsh participants, instantly returned the thoughts in the right direction. Without hands, these people were able to pick up harsh words to scare and cause shame in the "repeaters" at the same time.