This guy’s grandfather fought Nazis, his uncle struggling against Talibans in Afghanistan in the 1980s, and his father against Azeris in the 1990s. And here he is – yesterday’s university graduate – on the border with Azerbaijan, the Italian newspaper La Stampa writes.

“Everyone here has fought for their country,” Marut says, holding a Kalashnikov, which is so worn that seems to have been present in all the wars he is telling about.

Marut and his co-servicemen – 20-year-old conscripts – are sitting tanned in the shade of bags with sand. Someone is closing his eyes and turning to God in a small chapel located right in the positions. Several dozens meters away - behind the mine field - are snipers.

Peace is far from here. It is hanging on a thread ready to break from a single incorrect step. Azerbaijan wants its province, Karabakh – its liberty, and this shaky balance (sometimes there are no shootings for months, and sometimes violent clashes break out) keeps demanding millions of dollars for weaponry. It also demands human lives.

“We are the last bastion of the Christian Europe’s defense. Russia understood this, but you didn’t,” an officer says.

Russia keeps a military contingent in Armenia, but doesn’t stop selling weapons to Azerbaijan for astronomic amounts, while the small republic keeps struggling.