This is >
A well-known hop recently came from the army, not used to the new job yet. He tells us:
We sit with the boys in the yard, drink beer, all quietly peaceful.
Soon there was a noise, like "Atas, minty-e-y!"
The people somehow stumbled whoever, through fences, garages, gardens, through gaps.
Everyone is running, I am running.
I run, and I think, what am I running for? There is no knife with me, no grass with me, no neighborhood. I don’t hear anything like that, like I haven’t barked lately.
Yes, and myself two months already as a senior sergeant of the militia...

The reflex, however...
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This is the kind of police guard us.