Sasha Khabarov, barely eighteen, enlisted into the army in the August of 1941. Just like most of his peers, he believed that the Soviet army will defeat the Germans very quickly. But when they came to the frontline just days after their high school ball, they realized that destiny is set to test them hard. Enormous casualties were barely replaced by young recruits. One had to be a quick learner in order to survive. After only a year, Sasha was an experienced sergeant, a professional scout. This, however, did not save him from being surrounded and wounded.

There were only few survivals in his unit, whereas his arm was just slightly hit by a bullet. But that was no reason to relax. The boy saw Germans walking in a close line and clearing the area, shooting the wounded. His face covered with dirt and blood, Sasha lay with his eyes open playing dead. His breath stopped and his eyes became thoughtless from fear when death approached him in person of a mature red German and looked him in the face. The German wanted to shoot at first. But he spared a bullet and poked him with the bayonet instead. The blade passed a few centimeters from the heart and exited from the back.