You have always loved your homeland, but you have never loved its government. You have always been imbued with a man with a good heart, but you would never forgive black cross on white background on his left shoulder.

It all started in April 1941. Your favorite student's family gets arrested for anti-communist views. That was a big blow to you. And then German shells hit the ground. They're reach Voronezh in the summer of 1942. One of the numerous forced labor camps was broken up in the city, you'll know the real meaning of war: prisoners of war, civilians, old men and children - all indiscriminately and without the right to refuse worked for German soldier, with hardly human conditions. However, amidst the filth, violence and fear, all captives had a fragile hope for survival - the Man Who Brought Bread. This did not happen regularly or to everyone, and moreover, it was rare for anyone to get enough of it. This humanity in the enemy camp gave strength to hold on.

... Humanity, huh? Forget it. You walk back to the shack where your block of twenty-seven men is sleeping, barely moving your feet. You have just been used as a living toy, again. This time, according to the rules of the “game” you had to dance on the ice after the hot coals, showing “Real Soviet Art”. Your fall coat does not warm you at all from the January frosts, and with another gust of wind you are literally blown away, stamping you into a snowdrift. You think that if you were to die, it would be like this. By nature. However, strong rough hands pick you up by the scruff of the neck and drag you behind them.

You wake up in a shabby barn on a haystack. Physically, you no longer feel the cold. But when you raise your head, your blue, icy eyes give you a new wave of frost. Without a moment's hesitation, he pulls out a piece of bread, which must have been the size of a thumb, from his pocket and silently holds it out to you. With trembling lips you barely whisper in disbelief: “Thank you...”.