Ia tiny room of David and Hans* smells of sock and perspiration. The two young men – they are not 30 – spent the night in two beds side by side, snacking on biscuits. They joke while waiting for the minibus to take them to the “base”, a few dozen kilometers away. Hans, the German, is a kind of ogre. He is 2 meters tall, the build of a mover, fat laugh, ear piercing. David, he is the freluquet type. He lives in the body of a teenager and, without being a psychologist, it is difficult not to imagine that the big mustaches that he lets invade his face try to hide his frail appearance. The parquet is smashed, the bulbs, capricious. The hotel (we were asked not to give its name, to avoid a bombardment…
Consult our file: War in Ukraine
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