He even knew that at the end of his talk – after which there would be a tense silence for several seconds – she would rise nimbly to her feet and pronounce the expected words: "Now then, children, put your questions to Ivan Dmitrevich." Once again there would be an embarrassing silence. But in obedience to a look from the teacher, a radiant girl would stand up in the front row, wearing a smock as white as whipped cream, who would say, as if she were reciting a lesson: "Honored Ivan Dmitrevich, please will you tell us what qualities of character you valued most in your wartime comrades?"

After the reply, to which no one paid much attention, the most presentable boy would stand up and ask Ivan, in the same conscientious tones, what advice he would give to future defenders of their Country.

At the end of this patriotic-military demonstration there would often be an unexpected diversion. Urged on by the whispers of his fellows, a great scruffy youth would rise to his feet in the back row. And without any preliminaries would stammer out: "So how thick was the armor on the German Tigers? Thicker or thinner than on our T-34?" "The gun. Ask him about the gun…" his neighbors prompted him. But the boy bright red, was already collapsing on his chair, proud of his excellent question. Ivan answered him. Then the bell rang and the much relieved teacher congratulated the veteran once more and gave him three red carnations, taken from a vase that stood on the desk. Impatiently the whole class jumped to their feet.

On the way, Ivan Dmitrevich always had a few confused regrets. Each time he wished he had told them about a small detail: the wood he went into after the battle and the spring water that had reflected his face back at him.

Journalists sometimes came to see him as well, most often for the anniversary of the start of the Battle of Stalingrad.