Dr.Semyonov ?...

Yes.

Please come this way.
Hurry, please!" We were led across the farmyard and almost tumbled into a trench at the farther end of it.
It wasn't until I felt some one touch my shoulder that I realised my position.

We were sitting, the three of us, in a slanting fashion with our backs to the earthworks of the trench.

To our right, under an improvised round roof, a little dried-up man like a bee, with his tunic open at the neck and a beard of some days on his chin, was calling down a telephone.
Next to me on the left a smart young officer, of a perfect neatness and even dandiness, was eating his supper, which his servant, crouching in front of him, ladled with a spoon out of a tin can.
Beyond him again the soldiers in a long line under the farm wall were sewing their clothes, eating, talking in whispers, and one of them reading a newspaper aloud to himself.
A barn opposite us in ruins showed between its bare posts the green fields beyond.