Yes, I gave the order!'
A look of curiosity flashed in the skunk's eyes.
'Our total stock is only four hundred pairs . . .'
'What can I do?' squeaked the general. 'Do you think I can produce them like rabbits out of a hat?
Eh?
Issue them to anybody who asks for them!'
Five minutes later General Makushin was taken home in a cab. #
During the night of December 13th to the 14th the moribund barracks on Brest-Litovsk Street came to life.
In the vast, dirty barrack-rooms the lights came on again, after some cadets had spent most of the day stringing wires from the barracks and connecting them up to the streetlamps.
A hundred and fifty rifles stood neatly piled in threes, whilst the cadets slept sprawled fully dressed on dirty cots.
At a rickety wooden table, strewn with crusts of bread, mess-tins with the remains of congealed stew, cartridge pouches and ammunition clips, sat Nai-Turs unfolding a large colored plan of the City.
A small kitchen oil lamp threw a blob of light on to the maze-like map, on which the Dnieper was shown like a huge, branching, blue tree.
By about two o'clock in the morning sleep began to overtake Nai-Turs.
His nose twitched, and occasionally his head nodded towards the map as though he wanted to study some detail more closely.
Finally he called out in a low voice:
'Cadet!'
'Yes, sir', came the reply from the doorway, and with a rustle of felt boots a cadet approached the table.
'I'm going to turn in now', said Nai.
'If a signal comes through by telephone, waken Lieutenant Zharov and depending on its contents he will decide whether to waken me or not.'
There were no telephone messages and headquarters did not disturb Nai-Turs' detachment that night.
At dawn a squad armed with three machine-guns and three two-wheeled carts set out along the road leading out of the City, past rows of dead, shuttered suburban houses . . .
Nai-Turs deployed his unit around the Polytechnic School, where he waited until later in the morning when a cadet arrived on a two-wheeler and handed him a pencilled signal from headquarters:
'Guard the Southern Highway at Polytechnic and engage the enemy on sight.'
Nai-Turs had his first view of the enemy at three o'clock in the afternoon when far away to the left a large force of cavalry appeared, advancing across an abandoned, snow-covered army training-ground.
This was Colonel Kozyr-Leshko, who in accordance with Colonel Toropets' plan was attempting to penetrate to the center of the City along the Southern Highway.
In reality Kozyr-Leshko, who had met no resistance of any kind until reaching the approaches to the Polytechnic, was not so much attacking as making a victorious entry into the City, knowing full well that his regiment was being followed by another squadron of Colonel Gosnenko's cossacks, by two regiments of the Blue Division, a regiment of South Ukrainian riflemen and six batteries of guns.
As the leading horsemen began trotting across the training-ground, shrapnel shells, like a flock of cranes, began bursting in the heavy, snow-laden sky.
The scattered riders closed up into a single ribbon-like file and then, as the main body came in sight, the regiment spread itself across the whole width of the highway and bore down on Nai-Turs' position.
A rattle of rifle-bolts ran along the lines of cadets, Nai pulled out a whistle, blew a piercing blast and shouted:
'At cavalry ahead! Rapid . . . fire!'
Sparks flickered along the gray ranks as the cadets loosed off their first volley at Kozyr.
Three times after that the enemy batteries sent a salvo of shrapnel raining down against the walls of the Polytechnic and three times more, with an answering rattle of musketry Nai-Turs' detachment fired back.
The distant black lines of horsemen broke up, melted away and vanished from the highway.
It was then that something odd seemed to happen to Nai-Turs.
No one in the detachment had ever seen him frightened, but at that moment the cadets had the impression that Nai either saw, heard or sensed something in the distance ... in short, Nai gave the order to withdraw toward the City.
One platoon remained behind to give covering fire to the other platoons as they pulled out, then withdrew in turn when the main body was safely ensconced in a new position.
Like this they leap-frogged back for two miles, throwing themselves down and making the broad highway echo with rifle-fire at regular intervals until they reached the intersection where Brest-Litovsk Street crossed the highway, the place where they had spent the previous night.
The crossroads were quite dead, not a soul was to be seen on the streets.
Here Nai-Turs selected three cadets and gave them their orders:
'Run back to Polevaya Street and find out where our units are and what's become of them.
If you come across any carts, two-wheelers or other means of transportation retreating in a disorganised fashion, seize them.
In case of resistance threaten the use of firearms, and if that doesn't work, use them . . .'
As the cadets ran off and disappeared, the detachment suddenly came under fire from ahead.
At first it was wild and sporadic, mostly hitting the roofs and walls of houses, but then it grew heavier and one cadet collapsed face down into the snow and colored it red with blood.
Then with a groan another cadet fell away from the machine-gun he was manning.
Nai's ranks scattered and began a steady rapid fire at the dark bunches of enemy troops which now seemed to be rising out of the ground in front of them as if by magic.
The wounded cadets were lifted up, white bandages unwound.
Nai's cheekbones stood out like two swellings.
He kept turning his body more and more often in order to keep a watch out on his flanks, and by now his expression betrayed his anxiety and impatience for the return of his three messengers.
Finally they arrived, panting like foxhounds.