Officer life, 75 km away from the nearest civilization, was not very diverse. Service, hunting, fishing, gathering (fungi, berries), confined by a permanent bookkeeping, and of course (where to go from it) sexual life. And the latter, unlike everything else, was divided into categories. The first is the death of his wife. The second is the mutilation of wives that do not belong to you.
So, someone N lived in the town and periodically, when possible, he beat his wife M, and very successfully. But once he had a misfortune, from which he honored to escape.
Just then N rested after duty, and M left for those positions. There is no better time to break up and invent it. So it happened, but here, like in a shit joke, a trouble happened, the husband knocked on the door. They sent him for some iron, and he also decided to eat. What to do?
The exit was found immediately, a coat on the naked body and on the balcony, and already from it to the balcony of the neighbors, well they were located at the distance of the extended arm. In that apartment, it happened that there was nobody but a five-year-old child, who stood up in a stupor when he saw that from the balcony into the apartment comes a broken uncle, barefoot and in a coat.
Uncle, who are you? The child asked.
and Tss. I am a guerrilla, a real man, from the forest, away from the enemy.
Does your dad have a shirt, pants and shoes for time? I as
I’ll do it, I’ll bring it tonight.
There will always be a partisan.
He dressed up and went home happy.
Imagine the boy’s father’s reaction when he came home for lunch and heard that an hour ago a partisan came to them from the woods and took his pants, shirt and shoes. These objects disappeared from the apartment. For a long time he sought from his son, where the villain hid his things, and maybe even worse, burned it on the balcony. But he received only one answer, the guerrilla came from the balcony, took everything and promised to give. Threats with belts did not help. Dad had already said goodbye to things, when in the evening, to his surprising surprise, a bell came out, and on the threshold stood N, holding in his hands all the causes. “I borrowed it here. thank you. I come back. “Don’t tell anyone,” he said.
– Oh, he’s a partisan, – Dad almost stumbled in the hallway.
Half of laughter.
Okay, I will not tell anyone.
Since then, the proud nickname "Partisan" has been attached to N in part.