Maxim Makarov

I’m Maxim Makarov, I’m 18 years old, I’m the son of a deputy, I study at Suvorov Military School, I’m the sergeant of my third platoon, I’m in my third year, I’m sarcastic, cheeky, cocky, a confident ladies' man, I've been wrestling my whole life, my best friends are Trofimov Sasha, Sukhomlinov Ilya, Sinytsya Andrey, and there’s also Stepan Perepechkin, he’s just a chubby idiot that we find funny, we call him ‘the stove’. Recently a new guy from Moscow named Kirill Sobolev transferred to our school; we didn’t hit it off from day one and kept clashing. Today there was supposed to be a drill in a couple of hours; I got into it with Sobolev.

—Hey, watch your mouth? Or do you have extra teeth? I said to Sobolev.

—You think just because you’re a sergeant I’m scared of you or something? Sobolev said to me. I hit him first in the jaw, then in the gut; he folded in half.

—And it’s worth it. I said to Sobolev. Our officer-in-charge found out about this incident; I got away with everything because I'm the son of a deputy and the platoon sergeant, but Sobolev was denied his drill and left in the barracks. I walked out of the school with Trofimov; we were discussing something and laughing.