Hm, thought Dugan to himself. To the soldier he shouted, "I'd come down and show you my papers, comrade Red Army man, but if I put this wire down now, it will be sure to start a big bright forest fire. You wouldn't want to be responsible for that, would you?"
"Your name—!" shouted the soldier.
"Sasha — that's short for Aleksandr — Alesandr Aleksandrovich — my old man had the same name, see?"
"Of course," yelled the soldier, "how else would you get the name?" Several lurid adjectives preceded the noun name.
"Don't abuse my name, comrade," yelled Dugan, "or I'll drop this wire and start a fire and tell everybody you made me do it."
"All right," said the soldier, all tired out, "will your Blue-nosed Lordship please tell me your Blue-nosed Lordship's famous and commendable name?"
They both laughed heartily at this urbane wit and then Dugan carefully spelled the name Shestov, repeating it all very seriously at the end.
"My name," said Major Dugan distinctly, "is Aleksandr Aleksandrovich Shestov and I am a Senior Electrician and an Authorized Emergency Lineman, Senior Class. Got it?"
"Got it!" said the soldier.
Dugan went on over the top of the hill. The woods were thick, with the branches almost always interlacing, but, presumably in order to forestall the fire hazard, the Russians had cleared out most of the underbrush. The result was that the going was very easy, with the floor of pine needles underneath.