Suka

At night, the jagged horizon is suddenly illuminated. The bombardment has begun. In their messy barracks in Grozny, four Chechen soldiers listen to a tape on which the impacts can be heard and orders are handed down. It does not prevent them from cracking morbid jokes about snipers and from unfolding theories about the excessive length of Chechen penises – apparently, they were stretched in their childhood. They listen to the sound of machine-guns and comment on the clicking and falling of cartridge cases. Because of this stalwart man-talk, the comrades seem to have quite an enjoyable time, but meanwhile we see how the bombs are really raining down outside their barracks.