pps 43

A maioria de nossos sentimentos gerais — todo tipo de inibição, pressão, tensão, explosão no jogo dos órgãos (…) — excita nosso impulso causal: queremos uma razão para nos acharmos assim ou assim — para nos acharmos bem ou nos acharmos mal. Nunca nos basta simplesmente constatar o fato de que nos achamos assim ou assim: só admitimos esses fato — dele nos tornamos conscientes —, ao lhe darmos um algum tipo de motivação.
—  Friedrich Nietzsche.

Type 54 submachine gun

Manufactured under licence in China as a copy of the Soviet PPS-43 c.1950′s.
7,62x25mm 35-round removable box magazine, open bolt blowback select fire, folding skeleton stock.

A rather mean-looking machine gun, it goes to show you how the crappiest muzzle break can give a style to a firearm.

Fiorenzo a suo modo è credente. Una volta mi ha detto:
– Pensa, io che da piccolo ho sempre avuto la passione per gli Stadio, da grande mi è venuta la voce identica al cantante degli Stadio. Te pensa il destino. Guarda che delle volte la vita è una cosa incredibile. Tutti dicono che la vita è un caso, sembra che non ci sia niente di niente, io dico che qualcosa c’è.
—  [Roberto Livi, La terra si muove, Milano, Marcos y Marcos 2017, pp. 43-44] via Paolo Nori
43 Minutes Part 1

I wrote this fic intending for it to be a 2 (maybe 3) parter, but if you guys don’t want another part just let me know. I am totally happy to do whatever you all prefer. I would also like to apologise in advance if the medical knowledge in this fic is not up to scratch. I am not a qualified medical professional so I am really sorry if any of this is inaccurate. Please do not hesitate to let me know if anything is inaccurate though, I would be happy to learn in the future!

This fic is based on Unicorn Baby’s 4th birthday, and the events that happen during the difficult day for Amelia. 

May 15th 2012

‘Addie. Addie, my baby’s going to die.’

May 15th 2016

Amelia knew that today was not going to be a particularly easy day for her but in the same way as all the other anniversaries, she tried her best to forget and soldier on with it. She woke up alone as Owen was called into the hospital during the night. It was fine. She could handle this on her own, heck she had been dealing with it on her own for the last 4 years, why should today be any different? Amelia got out of bed, wearing one of Owen’s shirts that drowned her tiny figure, and grabbed a box from under the bed. She sat back down on the bed and took a deep breath before opening the box. It was filled with memories.

Memories of her dad – his watch, photos of his wedding to her mom, photos of him with Amelia as a child playing and laughing.

Memories of her brother – Mer’s old phone with his voice encapsulated inside, photos of him with Zola and Bailey, one of his old shirts that she took from the dream house on the day of his funeral. It still smelt of him a bit, but the scent was beginning to fade.

Memories of her best friend – photos of them travelling together and being silly, a necklace Amelia bought her for her 21st birthday.

Memories of her sweet baby. The baby who was meant to be turning 4 today, and running around with his little friends and stuffing his face with birthday cake. Amelia hesitated as she got to one special memory – his hospital tag. There wasn’t much for her to take from the hospital as a memory of him, she didn’t even get a picture of him. The tag was the only thing she had to remember him by. Her heart broke as she stroked the tag, the anger and hurt creeping back into her emotions. Her eyes began to fill with tears when it all came flooding back to her.

Happy Birthday my beautiful boy. I love you all the way around the world and back again.

Snapping herself out of this state, she started to get ready for the day ahead of her.

Keep reading

(This is one version) - The flag was held aloft on top of the Reichstag building in Berlin, by a Soviet soldier, Alexei Kovalyov from Kiev aided by a Sergeant from Dagestan. May 2 1945.

The Russian photographer Yevgeny Khaldei, is credited with taking the picture.
Here are the main points concerning the flag: Khaldei said the flag was made by his uncle, who stitched the hammer, sickle and star on to a red table cloth taken from the TASS office in Moscow. Khaldei was then on a short stay in Moscow, but soon returned to the front.
On 2 May 1945 Khaldei ordered the three soldiers in his company up to the roof of the Reichstag. Various positions were tried before the final famous picture was chosen. The day after, the picture arrived in Moscow.

He has a ‘Pistolet-pulemyot Sudaeva’ 43, or PPS-43, a Russian full-automatic sub-machine-gun strapped over his right shoulder.

WW2 Colourised Photos (Colorised by Olga Shirnina from Russia)