I am often on guard over the Russians. In the darkness one sees their forms move like stick storks, like great birds. They come close up to the wire fence and lean their faces against it. Their fingers hook round the mesh.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
So, I created these creatures called The Frightened Ones which in the film you see do have mask like kind of heads and they run beneath the ground to hide. Which is what in fact we did during the war.
The Russians are extreme people: they are generous but crazy at the same time. They always have something to say, and I really like that.
In American films, Russians are often portrayed like cartoon villains without clear motivations.
Russia! Russia... Everything in you is open, desolate and level; your squat towns barely protrude in the midst of the plains like dots, like counters; there is nothing to tempt or enchant the onlooker's gaze. But what is this inscrutable, mysterious force that draws me to you?
There are ogres and black beasts out there; you have to be constantly on guard.
You can't break Russian people, you know? 'Cos we're made in cold snow. We're very resistant.
Since that time I have had continuous contact with the persons who were completely unknown to me, except that I knew they would hand whatever information I gave them to the Russian authorities.
Mounting a large rock, I was able to see a considerable body of the enemy moving by the flank in rear of their line engaged, and passing from the direction of the foot of Great Round Top through the valley toward the front of my left.
The way I understand it, the Russians are sort of a combination of evil and incompetence... sort of like the Post Office with tanks.
With their souls of patent leather, they come down the road. Hunched and nocturnal, where they breathe they impose, silence of dark rubber, and fear of fine sand.