Yaroslavl
The next stage of transportation. The halting place in the town of Yaroslavl. We left the autozak, which transported us from the prison compartment of the ancient Stolypin wagon. The air was full of the morning freshness and cold. It was nice to stretch the body after such a long transfer.
A multi-day journey in a cell of twelve people, who, like monkeys, hung over each other’s heads. You could only lie down. Drink lying, eat still lying and go to the toilet just once in five hours. On the double. When one torture ended, the another began. It was important to have time to enjoy the moment of rest in a happy interval between executions.
The place where we were brought was in ruins, old royal barracks, destroyed by time, disregard and the main thing — by Russian stealing and cor
