Page:Zakhar Berkut(1944).djvu/212

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the surface of the water, whirled about clenched fists, feet or heads. Only ten groups of living men like ten black islands stood on their stone heaps, but even they were no longer soldiers only badly frightened, disarmed weaklings, trembling and un-nerved by their despair. Although they were within hearing distance of each other, they could not aid each other and whether banded together in one group or alone they were just as helpless, awaiting their inevitable death.

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