The cold air pierces my lungs like white hot knives. It’s the Russian winter - it’s settling in again.
The boat rocks, I lean to the right and grip the side of the boat so I don’t fall overboard.Freezing water slams against the boat, making my hand even colder and sending spray over onto us soldiers. It does not help that we’re all chilled to the bone.
I shiver slightly, my thoughts no longer on the water around me. Nor is it the weather - the clouds are dark and hovering over the city, a fog rolls over the Volga, and a heavy rain falls.
My mind is on the city before me - Stalingrad, my city… My home. Where my parents were killed, where I was recruited for the Army. Although it does not currently look like much, it is still my city. And I will defend it to the death.
“Welcome to Stalingrad. You’re about to begin the greatest moment of your life. Our Bolshevik party, our nation, our great country, have given us the task not to let the enemies reach the Volga. Up into the unremitting battle, comrades, for Stalingrad, for our great country!”
I am drawn out of my reverie by the sound of a gun firing near me - on the boat!. I look at the Commissar, who holds his pistol out in front of him with both hands.
“Cowards and traitors will be shot - and those who live after being shot will be shot and killed!” He yells.
I cannot say that I am shocked by this. I’m not.
He shoots again, and I find his targets. Two people, young men. Both of them had jumped into the river, and now they join the many other bodies that litter the water.
I watch life leave one’s eyes as the blood pools out of his stomach.
I do not feel remorse, sadness, nor guilt. People have to die for a war to be won - or lost.
We approach the dock, and the others scramble to remove themselves from the boat.
As if that’ll save them.
Chapter # 2 It’s not a threat, it’s a promise
I am the last person to disembark the boat; the Commissar stays on as he watches us with cold eyes.
“Good luck.” he grunts to me as I leave him and the boat.
I begin to think of the chances I have of staying alive.
Slim to none.
A line has formed, and at the head of the line a man passes out guns and ammunition.
But when I reach him, he sneers at me. “You’re not going to make it ‘till the morrow!” He spits, motioning me along.
I reach into the crate beside him, and remove a clip of ammunition. “I shall relieve you of this.” I say blankly.
His grip on his rifle tightens, and his eyes narrow. “You’re on thin ice.” He growls.
I don’t reply, just raise an eyebrow and turn from him. “I need something so I shall live until the morrow.” I reply coldly as I stride off the dock. Not hearing any complaints after me, I smirk in satisfaction.
“I do not see how you’re dead,” A tall blonde man says to me. “But you’re with me, comrade. Follow my orders or I won’t hesitate to kill you myself.”
By reading his nameplate, he is Sergeant O. Puskov. I have not been issued a nameplate - I might receive one if I live through this war. And that’s a big if.
“I have received orders to overtake the German-controlled refinery.” Puskov says in a bored voice. I do not understand why he’s bored - there’s enough action here to keep an entire population in fear for their lives.
“Then let's go. Best not to waste any time waiting for something or someone that will never arrive.” I say to the Sergeant.
He looks at me, raising an eyebrow before he turns back to facing away from me. “Remeber what I said - Stalin will not take it kindly if his city is taken by the Nazis. Especially after their traitorous moves after the signing of the non aggression pact.”
I stare at him. “I know why we are in this war - and I knew that the useless Nazis would break the treaty.” I say.
“Good. Then you won’t hesitate to kill if threatened. When you receive a weapon.” Puskov says as he begins a paced jog towards the refinery.
Following after him - I’d rather not get shot before I even do anything useful - we take cover in a hole, and go still.
“Watch out for the machine gunners!” He yells over the sounds, and lays down. “Go prone!”
I copy him, laying so my head does not show over the lip of the depression.
“They’ve stopped - let’s go!” He says, standing up quickly. I do as he does, and we begin a faster job towards a lone wall. “Down!”
And that’s how it goes until we reach a gated area. By that time, I’m slightly out of breath. We’ve had more than our fair share of close calls.
At the gated area stands many men, all listening to another.
“For your mothers! For Russia!” The man yells, and the others all cheer.
“It’s a mass attack - they’re heading straight for the machine guns.” Puskov says as we stand beside a partially standing wall.
Over the noises of the unrelenting battle, I hear the gate creak open, and the men all letting out yells.
“Follow me, I know a better way.” Puskov says, and we take off again.
~
Inside the building, I come across a singular gun, and I lift it.
“Maschinenpistole 40.” Puskov says under his breath when I look at it carefully. “Submachine gun.”
“Thank you for the lesson on my new weapon.” I say sarcastically.
Despite the danger in the situation, Puskov lets out a low laugh. “Come on, we need to get moving.”
I incline my head again and start moving towards the open door.
“Stirb russischer Abschaum!” A loud voice yells and thundering footsteps come my way.
I duck as the German tries to slice me with a knife. Without hesitation, I shoot upwards.
Warm covers half my face and my neck, and I watch the man crumple to the ground.
“Quick thinking, Private.” Puskov says, his voice sounding embarrassed. “But now you have blood all over you.”
I look down at my uniform and at the blood that is splattered all over it. I don’t feel anything but content.
“At least he’s dead.” I grunt and kick the body.
Haiiii, it's kinda graphic, I know. But I am in love with this story. And I'd love some feedback!
I created a story!
