This story took place in the distant 1974. of Kazakhstan. The Kustan region. Our battalion helps clean the bread. A solitary field. Here in the only house was located the management of the car.

On the first day, as we arrived at this place, until the senior had time to unload the property from the trailer, he strictly ordered those entering the suit not to sleep at night, and that, say, the Kazakhs wiped their boots and sweaters, and at the same time a new Zylovsky trailer. To me, personally, he said, the trailer is unlikely to be taken, but to remove the new wheel - how to drink can give!

At night we slept as well. At two o’clock I went out to the yard to cast and I saw that there was no wheel on the trailer. I am in horror. I woke up another daytime and we moved quickly into the fleet (1.5 km) to remove the wheel from some car. Everyone in the car park slept. We twisted the wheel from one ZIL and rolled it to the trailer. It all took us three hours. Before dawn, we went to bed with a feeling of deep satisfaction. After a couple of hours I woke up from some noise, listening. The senior shouted not with his voice, proving to someone: "I myself, personally, fearing that the daytime will fall asleep and the trailer will pull - I took off one wheel..."