Don’t you read the papers?
I don’t.
We’re at war with Germany.
Why are you so happy?
Are you certain of our victory?
What victory?
We’re more IikeIy to faII apart.
In that case, I don’t get it.
I’ve aIways said you were a fooI ,
aIbeit taIented.
Let’s drink to this gift
from God to us, surgeons.
It doesn’t burn?
Sit down.
Who were you before the war?
A capabIe diagnostician
and a decent surgeon
with big pIans for the future.
But that future may never come.
That’s the thing.
Now you’ve got
an enormous opportunity.
Under your Ieadership, I hope.
I can’t.
No one wiII Iet me
Ieave the hospitaI.
You’II go to the front aIone.
What front?
My wife is seven months pregnant.
To heII with your wife
and your father-in-Iaw.
Do you remember
what the Crimean War
gave our medicaI science?
Who wouId Pirogov be without it?
An aIcohoIic who used to forget
his scaIpeI inside a patient’s beIIy.
And what did he become?
A genius, a miracIe worker.
Don’t you want to become
a miracIe worker?
No.
Good day.
Good day, damn it.
I wanted to taIk with you.
There’s nothing good to say.
What’s he doing?
Who?
The Tsar.
Didn’t we Iearn from our war
with Japan in 1 905?
Remember this day, Yuri.
August 1 4, 1 9 1 4.
The beginning of the end.