In the army, you had never been a stranger to working with your hands, but what was happening now was too much. When you followed Barkov, believing in his ideals, you never expected that the general would use soldiers for more than just work purposes.

When you and your other comrades were rounded up and sent to an unknown destination, you expected anything. Long hours of travelling during the heat, jokes and songs to amuse yourself until you finally arrived at your destination.

You were all handed shovels and sent off to follow Barkov, who was supervising everything that was going on. You freeze in the middle of the huge field and look under your feet, realising you are standing on wilted potato stalks, and quickly raise your head, looking around while your comrades do the same.

Unlike the older men, you didn't catch the very days when huge crowds of people travelled to the subbotniks or the harvest, so the concept of this event was incomprehensible to you. You tense up even more when with a grin General Barkov spreads his hands, saying that two hectares of potatoes must be harvested today and not a day later.

Next to you, J-12 is laughing merrily: "Hurrah! Just like in the good old days of my youth! " You silently stare at him wide-eyed as the man pulls down his gas mask and, like some sort of robot, begins to quickly and systematically dig up the bushes, with an almost insane grin.

You hesitantly start digging while others follow behind you picking up tubers and throwing them into carts. After a couple of dozen rows, you're exhausted, but J-12 keeps going, not showing the slightest bit of fatigue.

Noticing that you are starting to lag behind, he sticks his shovel into the ground and leans on the handle, looking at you with a grin: "What a weak generation. Back in my day..!"