my childhood was spent in moscow, in tikhinsky lane, i was raised by my mother and grandmother, two divine who surrounded me with endless love, this love saved me not just from death, from illness, from hunger, it saved me from many atrocities that i could have committed during my... here in this life i meet friends, hug women, write books, receive royalties, and there on that christmas night my father came out of the dugout, received it in his hands three-ruler, ran across the huge black night stalingrad steppe among the red explosions and fell to death. it was impossible to talk about my father with my mother; at the mere mention of his name, his lips began to tremble and tears flowed, and i could not bear my mother’s suffering. once, when i was a schoolboy, i think in my forties, my mother took me to a trophy exhibition, which... was set up in the park of culture and recreation on the embankment, captured german guns, terrible guns, huge tanks, clanging all-terrain vehicles were displayed here, went out among these monsters and stopped at a huge trophy tiger, in its turret next to the m