A new day in Stalingrad

The night passes too quickly, and again I find myself helmet on, rifle in hands. I follow Ivan through hazy streets, filled with the smoke of a nearby fire. It makes my eyes sting but I have **** but to carry on behind him.

“Hold on!” Ivan calls out and steps into an alley. I stack up on the wall behind him. Peter and Nikolai join us in the alley. Ivan takes out his map.

“We should be close.” He tells us, then puts it away. “Let’s go.”

The sound of a DP-28 firing bursts at the enemy becomes louder as we near the front lines.

Ivan and I duck down behind a burned out car where a Soviet soldier is covering.

“Who’s in charge here?” Ivan asks him.

“That way, sir. In that building.” He points us to a building, and we cut down a side street before entering it. The others follow us inside.

Inside there is an Lieutenant and a few of his men working around a radio and a battered map which is spread out on a table.

“I’m glad to see you, comrades.” He looks up and greets us.

“We’re here to assist you.” Ivan tells him. “Can you give us the details?”

“Yes, sir. Look out that window, but stay back.”

Ivan and I creep forwards and look outside.

“Do you see the brick building to the right?”

“I see it.” Ivan answers.

“Yes, sir.” I add.

We come back to the table.

“That building used to be a school. There were many good places to fire from inside.” The Lieutenant explains. “It became a fortress for us, then we lost it. Now it is a fortress for the Germans. Myself and my men have been tasked with taking this building back.”

“Understood.” Ivan says. “Now, what is your plan?”

“The attack is to begin in thirty minutes, following a quick artillery barrage. I need you to prepare yourselves to cover the windows of the school. Kill any fascist you see, especially their machine gunners.”

“We’ll be ready.” Ivan assures him, and we turn to face the others.

“Hear that?” He asks. “We need to spread out and cover those windows once the attack begins. Anton, Maxim, Alyona, I want you to move to the building next door, that way.”

“Valentin, Oleg.” Ivan says. “Head to the building beyond that.”

“The rest of us will cover from this building. Move out.”

We spread out. My heart is already thumping, knowing that an attack is imminent. Ivan leads me upstairs.

“We should go to different rooms, to cover as many angles as possible.” Ivan explains to me. “Do you understand what to do?”

“Yes.” I tell him. “Once the attack starts, I’m supposed to shoot any defender that shows himself in the windows.”

“Good.” He says. “Remember, don’t start shooting until the attack begins, and don’t shoot from the same place twice. Understand?”

“Yes, Ivan.”

“Good. Now let’s get in position. You start here.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ivan and I split and I sneak into a room which faces out towards the school, staying low. I duck behind a dresser and take a moment to assess the room, to see where my best places to fire from could be. There are a few pieces of furniture I could use to hide myself, including the dresser and a bed. Here seems like a good place to start from. Cautiously peeking over the dresser gives me a good view of several windows.

So this is my least favorite part. Waiting. The anticipation is killing me. I have no idea who could be out there, or what could happen once the attack begins. I try to focus on my breathing to calm myself down.

I hear the distant popping of guns behind us, and peek around the dresser to watch. A round of our artillery shells rock the school and the surrounding area. The ground shakes and I flinch, but don’t pull back. Another round hammers the enemy’s position. It’s nice for them to get a taste of this bullshit for once, instead of us. I fucking hate artillery.

Our barrage is short, only lasting a few more rounds. I take a deep breath and steady my rifle on the top of the dresser, aiming for the upper windows. The gunfire on either side picks up, a few clouds of smoke beginning to pour from the ground in front of the enemies. It must be ours. I check my rifle and ready myself.

A whistle screeches from below and a chorus of battle cries, a mix of “URAH!”, “ZA RODINU!” And “ZA STALINA!” arise from our men, along with profanities and other unintelligible noises, as they charge through the smoke. Gunfire from both sides picks up even harder. A German machine gun roars to life. Where is that son of a bitch?

I look through the haze which rises from the ground, checking each window. A rapid series of muzzle flashes catch my attention and I aim for it. It’s a machine gun. That has to be him. I aim just above the muzzle flash, right in the middle-top of the shape of a head in a stahlhelm. Holding my rifle still atop the dresser, I exhale, and gently squeeze the trigger.

My rifle goes off and my target whips backwards. The machine gun stops and I drop to the floor. I got him! The attack rages on, as I crawl over towards the bed on the other side of the room.

I pull the bed out from the wall, then get behind it. Cautiously, I rest my rifle on the bed, then cycle the bolt. My eye returns to the scope to look for another target. This damn smoke makes it hard to see anything.

I see another muzzle flash from a window, and quickly backtrack to it. The silhouette of a man leans out for a brief moment and I try to put my crosshairs over him. He fires again, but retreats too quickly. I aim for the window and wait. The sounds of gunfire and explosions drown out everything around me.

“Come on.” I whisper. “Pop your fucking head out again, I dare you.”

My target leans out again to take aim, and I put my crosshairs over him. The moment my finger touches the trigger, the entire room I’m in shakes with an explosion, a round of German artillery smashing into our building and the empty space between us and the school. My aim is jolted by it and I miss.

The optimism of our attackers is gone, proud war cries replaced by panicked shrieks as they desperately run for cover. Another round of shells come in and explode throughout them, decimating them and sending pieces flying through the air. The building I’m inside of is rocked again. I ball myself up as tightly as I can in the corner, my knees to my chest, and cover my face, dust and chunks of cement falling from the ceiling and coating the room.

I flinch again with the next round of artillery and the ensuing shower of dust and debris. A few tiny pieces bang off my helmet. I’m going to get blown up here! Panic in my mind, I drop to the floor and crawl underneath the bed, covering myself as the entire building is hammered relentlessly.

“Fuck!” I cry out, another round of explosions hitting us. Large chunks of the ceiling fall from above, one smashing the top of the bed. It would have crushed me if I didn’t move.

“Come on!” Ivan screams at me from the doorway, out of breath. “The staircase! The staircase!”

He rushes over and growls, straining to move the chunk of ceiling out of the way, but has to stop and flatten himself when we’re hit again with yet another round of explosions. The moment it’s over, he’s back to pulling on the chunk of ceiling. I put both my feet on it from underneath the bed and help push it out of the way.

“Come on!” Ivan cries and drags me out from underneath the bed by my boots. I scramble to my feet and run after him into the hallway. He tackles me down in the hallway, and the two of us cover against the wall while the building is rocked for yet another time.

I hear a terrible screaming noise from above.

“What the fuck is that?” I scream, crawling to my feet and dragging Ivan behind me.

“That’s a fucking plane, GO! GO!”

The two of us run into the staircase where a few others are covering. I lose my footing and tumble halfway down, getting beat up by the stairs before slamming into one of the soldiers like a cannonball. He tumbles a few more steps down with me, but catches me and manages to stop me.

“Everything okay with you, devushka?” He asks as I try to recover. Ivan comes running down the stairs and scoops up my rifle. The roaring of the engine becomes deafening.

“Get down!” Ivan screams, and the half a dozen of us glue ourselves to the stairs.

The entire world shakes with an absolutely massive explosion down at the other end of the building. Somebody screams. The plane zips by us. I grit my teeth and bury my face against the ground between Ivan and the others. We are showered with debris. I hear rumbling and crashing.

The occupants of the staircase, including Ivan and I cautiously lift our heads to peek around. I tip the front edge of my helmet back up so I can see. It seems like everybody here is still alive. I still have all of my arms and legs. The explosions have stopped, but gunfire persists.

“Peter and Nikolai were down there!” Ivan says to me, giving me a shake. He thrusts my rifle into my hands. The two of us jump up to our feet and book it to the bottom of the staircase and down a hall. We’re greeted with a wall of rubble at the end of it.

“Fuck!” I cry. “Where are they?” I start to frantically look around, digging through chunks of debris.

“In here!” Ivan yells, and pulls me by my sleeve. “I hear coughing!”

We see a pair of boots sticking out from underneath a dresser. They move!

“Help me!” Ivan says and grabs the dresser. “Pull his feet!”

When Ivan strains himself to lift up, I grab the pair of boots and yank on them. With my help, Nikolai crawls out from underneath.

“Nikolai!” I drop to his side. “Are you okay?”

“What the fuck was that?” He coughs, trying to clear the dust from his mouth.

“Fucking dive bomber.” Ivan explains. “Do you have any broken bones?”

“No, I think I’m okay.”

“Where’s Peter?” Ivan asks.

“He was upstairs.”

“Fuck.” Ivan mutters. “I don’t even know if there is an upstairs anymore! Come on!”

I help Nikolai up and we follow Ivan out of the room. The entire building beyond the room is collapsed, reduced to piles of rubble.

“Come on!” Ivan urges us, starting to dig through the rocks. “We’ve got to look for him!”

Nikolai and I give each other an apprehensive look and join Ivan.

“Search towards the front!” Ivan directs us.

The three of us dig, but I don’t find anything.

“Here!” Nikolai calls out. “Over here!”

Ivan and I scramble over the rubble, coughing on dust as we rush over to Nikolai.

“A boot!”

We crowd around the protruding foot and frantically pull back chunks of debris.

“Peter!” Ivan calls, shaking the feet. They don’t move at all. “Come on!”

“Fuck it.” Ivan curses and throws a chunk of debris down. “He’s been crushed.”

We all sigh and stop digging. I sit against the wall. Anton bursts through the doorway, out of breath.

“Holy shit!” He pants. “Is everybody alive?”

“The three of us.” I tell him. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees me. Maxim and Alyona come through the door behind him.

“You sure that’s Peter?” Ivan asks Nikolai.

“Positive.” Nikolai answers. “Do you want us to dig him out?”

“There’s too much. Just put some chunks back to cover his legs and feet.” Ivan sighs. “It’s all we can do for him. Let’s get out of here.”