Attack!

We lay on our stomachs close to the edge of the village, silently waiting, and watching. The first rays of sunlight are creeping over the horizon. The brighter the morning grows, the faster my heart thumps in my chest. I hear somebody crawling up behind me. It’s Dadonov.

“Don’t leave my side.” He orders me.

I know that it’s almost time to attack. It’s easy to think about how I’ll take my **** on the fascists when I’m back in the safety of our own camp, but out here, it’s a lot different. I have that old familiar feeling, my nerves heightened, butterflies dancing in my stomach. I’m going into a fight unlike any I’ve ever experienced before.

I need to focus. I need to bring out the anger and hatred from inside of me. The only way we will survive this is if we kill them first. I think about my father. My grip tightens on the wood of my rifle. My eyes sharpen. My eyebrows drop. A scowl crosses my face.

“Fix bayonets!” Zaitsev’s hushed voice calls out to us. The sounds of shuffling through gear and the clicking of bayonets into place fill the air.

I take a deep breath to steady my hands and slide my own bayonet over the muzzle of my rifle and rotate it until it locks in place. The thought of sticking a fascist is grim but intriguing. Hopefully I won’t have to use it.

Everyone starts to come to their feet. We creep to the edge of the forest before the Captain waves us forwards. Somebody starts to run, and the rest of us join the charge. There’s nothing I want more than to get out of the open as quickly as possible. My adrenaline is already surging.

We crash into the village like a wave. I follow Dadonov through an alley. He breaks into the street first and starts to fire on a small group of German soldiers. They are caught completely off guard, and Dadonov kills the first before they even realize we’re there, and quickly moves onto the second. My eyes lock onto the third, desperately trying to unsling his rifle. I snap my weapon up and fire a shot at him. His head explodes under his helmet with a sharp metallic tink.

“Holy shit!” I cry out, and cycle my bolt. Tarasenko and a few of the others come out from behind us and push forwards. He rips a few bursts down range from his PPSh while the others move ahead and take cover behind a parked car. I follow Dadonov and rush to take cover behind the corner of a building. He leans out and fires a few more times until his bolt locks back empty.

“They’re running!” He says to me, beginning to dig for another magazine. I take his place at the corner and aim my rifle up the street. There are a few scattered fascists running for their lives. I fire at one of them but miss and smash a window that was behind him. Our comrades take chase.

“Come on!” Dadonov says to me before turning the corner and heading up the street. I cycle my bolt again and follow him. We have them on the run! They give us ground freely as we chase after them.

The clatter of an MP40 from up the street makes my heart leap. Everyone ahead of us takes cover behind the corner of a building, but we’re still exposed. We run as fast as we can towards the corner. Tarasenko rips a series of rounds at the defender and I snap my rifle up to my shoulder, still running. I see the fascist leaning around a corner and fire a shot at him, which misses its mark but lands close enough to make him snap back into cover, but it’s too late. I hear Tarasenko cry out from in front of me, falling and fumbling his PPSh forwards. I run right into him. Dadonov dashes behind me and pulls the two of us behind the corner just before a series of rounds hammers our position. Smirnov takes a position behind the corner and returns fire while Dadonov and I roll Tarasenko over. He’s limp, his chest bloodied. Dadonov shakes his head and trades places with Smirnov, who takes a second to reload. Two of our comrades are taking cover behind a car, separated from the rest of us.

“We need to get that son of a bitch.” Dadonov yells.

I notice that Artyom is next to me, and we take a moment to look into each other’s eyes, our chests rising and falling. Our squad mates pop off a few shots from behind the car to keep the enemy busy.

“You two.” Dadonov orders, pointing to Smirnov and Artyom. “Clear this building out and get to the upstairs windows.”

He grabs Smirnov by his chest. “And don’t kill any god damn civilians.”

Artyom and I give each other a nod before Smirnov kicks the door open and leads him inside.

“Tatya.” Dadonov says. “When I start shooting, I need you to grab that weapon.” He points to Tarasenko’s PPSh laying in the street with his bayonet.

“Are you ready?” He asks me. I set my rifle down and give him a nod. Dadonov leans around the corner and starts to fire. I dive forwards, stretching out to grab the weapon before recoiling back into cover as quickly as I can. A Mauser cracks from ahead and sends a bullet whipping by us

“Got it? Strip his belt. Do it fast!”

I unfasten Tarasenko’s bandolier and put it around my body. It’s too big for me but my own belt keeps it from falling.

“What about my rifle?” I ask.

“Leave it. You’re papasha now.”

“I’ve never shot one of these before!”

“No better time to learn! It’s not as hard as you think.” Dadonov says. “Give me his grenades.”

I search Tarasenko’s belt to find two Russian grenades, and hand them to Dadonov.

“I want you to switch drums. You’re probably close to empty.” He tells me, stuffing the grenades in his coat pockets. “But hold onto the other one. Don’t lose it.”

I take my drum out before I dig in Tarasenko’s pouch to pull the other. It feels much heavier and I snap it into place, then secure the other drum in the pouch.

One of our comrades fires a shot off then ducks back down.

“We hit the one with the rifle!” He yells over to us.

“Ready?” Dadonov asks. I nod. “Spit some lead at that motherfucker. You two with me!”

Dadonov leans around the corner and fires a few rounds towards the enemy before rushing forwards and pulling a grenade from his coat

I take his place at the corner, shoulder my PPSh and squeeze the trigger, aiming for the fascist behind the corner and peppering his position with a hail of bullets. My enemy ducks back and cowers behind the corner.

Dadonov flings his grenade past the corner and dives for cover. I hear a scream, quickly overpowered and silenced by a sharp explosion. A stahlhelm bounces from behind the corner and rolls out into the street, coming to rest upside down.

I take a moment to look down and admire the machine of **** I hold in my hands. Spitting out so many rounds so fast is beyond thrilling. Smirnov will be jealous.

“Come on!” Dadonov yells from ahead. I turn the corner and rush over to him, crossing the street and kneeling behind a car with him. Our comrades are further ahead of us, cautiously approaching a corner where the street ends, butting up against a building.

“Urah!” Somebody calls out from behind us. We turn to see an element of first squad catching up with us.

“Forwards, comrades!” Their sergeant orders and leads his group towards the corner. Dadonov and I break cover to follow them.

The moment the sergeant and the man directly behind him turn the corner, a machine gun roars to life from the right side and shreds them.

“Fuck!” Dadonov shouts and pulls me into an alley. We peek around the corner and watch as one of our men creeps up to the other corner with his rifle. He leans out to fire at the machine gunner, but the buzz saw roars to life and rips through his face before he can even fire a shot. The group of a half a dozen men which met up with us have already had their numbers cut in half.

“You!” Dadonov calls out to one of our comrades ahead of us. “Get the Captain and the others! We need smoke!”

The rest of us sit tight and wait for the others to arrive. Dadonov is closer to the street and watches around the corner.

My ears perk up to the sound of whispering coming from our right, around a corner in the alleyway. I can’t hear what’s being said but I can hear just enough to tell that the words I am hearing are German.

“Dadonov.” I whisper. He doesn’t hear me. I shoulder my PPSh and train the sights just past the corner. The whispering grows louder. This moment seems to last forever, waiting for them to come. The anticipation is killing me, my mind racing.

My finger squeezes the trigger the very moment I see a pair of gray figures round the corner. I shred the fascists with my PPSh, hosing them down with a hail of bullets and not letting go of the trigger until they’re both on the ground.

My heart is pounding in my chest. I look at the two of them more closely. I’m positive that they’re dead. Their weapons lay on the ground, one a Mauser and the other an MP-40.

Something flies around the corner and bounces off the wall. My eyes widen in terror when it comes to rest in front of us.

A scream of “Blyat!” passes my lips and I pull Dadonov by his coat into the street. Not a millisecond after we round the corner, the grenade explodes.

“Two can play that game!” I snarl under my breath, pulling my own grenade from my belt. Dadonov looks at me in a way he never has before, the way someone would look at a mental patient. I activate my grenade and peek around the corner to throw it in the alley. A fascist in the alley with a Mauser fires a shot at me. The bullet just misses my face, slamming into the wall in front of me. I snap back and the grenade explodes. Dadonov pulls me back from the corner and shoots into the alley, silencing the cries of agony.

“Where are they?” Captain Zaitsev shouts out of breath, catching up to us with the rest of first squad.

“Watch the alley!” Dadonov orders me before turning to the Captain. “Around the corner up there! There’s a machine gun to the right!”

A Mauser cracks from up the street and rips through Zaitsev’s chest. His arms flail out and he drops his weapon as he’s thrown to the ground. A chorus of rifles opens from the building ahead of us, devastating first squad and scattering the few who remain. I spray back at them with my PPSh but quickly run out of ammunition. I feel a hand grab me by the back of my belt, pull me back and through a door.

“It’s a god damn meat grinder out there.” Dadonov says to me, peering out the window. “Looks like it’s you and me. You’d better reload.”

I take out the other drum I stashed earlier. Dadonov takes it out of my hand.

“You probably have just a few more than twenty rounds left.” He explains to me before giving it back. “Use them sparingly.”

I finish reloading and follow him through the building. He stays ready to shoot.

“This mission is over. We need to get the hell out of this village.” He says as we near a door. “Be quick, and get out of the street as fast as possible.”

He opens the door and the two of us bolt out, dashing for the next alleyway across the street. The sounds of shouting and shooting fill the village around us. The alley leads us to another street, which we rush across as quickly as we can and duck into another building. It seems like nobody saw us. The building takes us out to an alley.

There it is. The woods are in front of us. Salvation. Escape. There’s only one problem, the empty space which lies before us.

“We’re going to have to cross it sometime.” Dadonov mutters. “The longer we wait, the slimmer our chances.”

“Fuck it.” I say. “Let’s go.”

We share a quick nod before the two of us break out of the alley, charging for the wood line with everything we have. The adrenaline surges through me. A bullet whizzes by us just before we crash through the tree line and into the forest.

“Don’t stop!”

He doesn’t have to tell me. We run on and on. The further we get from the village, the quieter the sounds of chaos become.

“Stop!” A voice yells from in front of us and we look down the barrel of a rifle. It’s Smirnov and he lowers his weapon.

“Smirnov! How the hell did you get out of there?” Dadonov asks.

“Now isn’t the time for stories. Let’s go before they come after us!” Smirnov responds.

A terrible feeling of dread creeps over me. I realize that something is horribly wrong.