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From the script for the movie "A particularly important task" #016 |
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A rapidly increasing whistle — Silts are rushing in a steep peak. Launch! Slipping out from under the planes, rocket shells with smoky plume blades rip through the very core of the enemy column on the highway. Explosions, panic, the column stood up, and a swarm of bombs rained down on it from above. The snow is covered with black pockmarks of craters.
At first, clapping was heard singly in various parts of the hall, but when Silts swept across the screen in low flight, almost hitting tanks with crosses on towers, shooting enemy soldiers at point-blank range, and our infantry attacked after this deadly barrage, the hall rose in unison, and the noise of jubilation drowned out the voice of the announcer, announcing the surrender of Paulus' army.
The newsreel ended, and the lights came on. It was still the same club room where the dormitory was located. But now, instead of plywood honeycomb cells, it was lined with rows of plush-backed chairs, and the walls gleamed with a matte sheen of fresh paint.
A banner stretched across the entire width of the stage: "Long live the XXV anniversary of the heroic Red Army! Death to the fascist invaders!"
Petrov and Nechkin were sitting next to Kirillov in the director's row, they came with their wives. Kirillov turned around — there were familiar, excited faces all around, the excitement was not subsiding, there was a celebration in the hall...
Here is the widow's brigade, it occupied a whole row, with the restless Grigory Gontsov perched on the edge, as always. Then there are teenagers, among them Pivovarov, a mechanic with an order on his jacket...
Then the lights were dimmed in the hall, and a song sounded from the stage. The girls were singing, and they were lined up in an arc by a painted backdrop panel. And Elvira was sitting at the piano in her blue flowing dress.
Kirillov looked at her. She played and sang with the same inspiration as she had at the pre-war party, but how much she had suffered and endured sounded in her song now...
A moonlit, ice-crunching evening. People are coming out of the club briskly after the concert.
Kirillov and Petrov were among the last to leave. A car was waiting for them at the club. They approached her.
Something made Kirillov turn around-there was a lone woman standing to one side. It was Elvira. Kirillov looked at her—she was expecting him. He nodded to Petrov, who understood everything. I got in the car and it started moving...
They walked in silence along the deserted embankment, the same one along which Gureyev escorted Masha. There was no light, and the windows were tightly curtained. But the moon was shining brightly.
"Is she writing to you?" Elvira asked.
Kirillov shook his head negatively.
—Nothing for me either...
A few more steps passed.
"Have you tried to get her back?" Elvira asked.
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