Only one hour is given for the kill,
Only one hour to rest before the battle,
Only one hour before the most important deals:
For some the firing squad, for some the medal.

During that hour we shall not write a line,
Pray to the gods of war - the artillery men.
We aren’t regular - we are convicts,
We wouldn’t write-consider me a Communist.

Before attacking - drink vodka? What for?
Our share we drank in the Civil War.
That is why we never yell "Hurrah!"
With death we play the game of silence.

All convicts have one law, one simple end:
Go and kill the Nazis in the battle.
And if you won’t catch a bullet with your chest,
For being the bravest you shall catch the medal.

Kill with your bayonet, but better with a bare hand -
It’s more hopeful and it’s also quiet.
And if somehow you will stay alive,
Go, walk around, punk, spend more than a ruble.

The enemy thinks: morally we are weak.
Behind them: burned forest and cities...
You’d be better off building the coffins out of wood.
The battalions of convicts are now marching.

Now it’s six o’clock, and now for the kill.
So, God of war, don’t rest before the battle.
Only one hour before the most important deals:
For some the firing squad, and for some the medal.