![]() ![]() Know who pegs out first? The guy who licks out bowls, puts his faith in the sick-bay, or squeals to godfather.*" But a man can live here, just like anywhere else. ![]() One day round the campfire in a forest clearing he told the reinforcement fresh from the front: "It's the law of the taiga here lads. An old campwolf, twelve years inside by 1943. Shukhov never for a moment forgot what his first foreman Kuzyomion had told him. And the worst of it was that if there was anything left in a bowl you couldn't help licking it. You'd get something to eat, but there were too many volunteers, swarms of them. Go to the mess to stack bowls and carry them to the washers-up. ![]() Rush around the store rooms looking for odd jobs – sweeping up or running errands. Take some rich foreman his felt boots while he was still in his bunk (save him hopping around barefoot, fishing them out of the heap after drying). He could stitch covers for somebody's mittens from a piece of old lining. That way he had an hour and a half all to himself before work parade – time for a man who knew his way around to earn a bit on the side. ![]()
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