On the walls of this restaurant were hanging
"Three Bears" and "Fallen Soldier".
A Captain was seated alone at one table.
"May I", I asked. "Please", he responded.

"Cigarette?" I offered. "No thanks, not my brand’, he answered.
"Fine, how about a drink - but I need a glass."
"They’ll bring one.". "Ein Prosit to you!" I said.
"Your health!" said he. "I’m working on it!" said I.

"So", says the Captain - a bit under the weather -
"I see you can handle your vodka just fine, but...
Have you ever seen a machine gun, or a tank - up close?"
Have you, say, ever been in an attack?"

He continued: "In ’43 I was a Sergeant-Major at Kursk.
I’m glad that’s behind me - that kind of stuff!
And lot’s more, friend! Over! Done!
So that you could lead a good life, sonny boy!"

He continued drinking and cursing, then asked about my dad.
He was talking loudly, glancing at the food with disinterest.
"I put my life on the line for you, kid,
and you, you’re just living it up, like some whore!"

"What if I gave you a rifle, sent you into combat?!
You, who just sit there drinking up my vodka?"
I felt like I was in a trench there in the Kursk salient,
When this Captain was serving as a Sergeant-Major.

He kept on with his drinking, but I was not far behind.
Finally, at the end of our conversation,
I insulted him, when I said, "Captain!
Sorry, but I don’t think you are ever going to make Major!"