Back to the tractor factory

It’s another cold, shitty day in Stalingrad. We wake and move out early. Returning to the area of the tractor factory is no surprise to us, as the fighting has picked up there in the past few days.

I have last night’s adventure to think about as I lie beneath a sheet of metal, as still as a stone, my scope over the blown out side of a building. I had to crawl here, and I haven’t moved in a very long time. It’s getting hard to not feel tired, but will myself into keeping my eyes open and focused.

“Tatya, do you see anything?” Anton’s voice whispers to me, just loud enough to hear.

“Shut up.” I whisper back, not taking my eye off the hole in the building.

My heart leaps when a grey figure darts across the gap and passes through the crosshairs, but I don’t shoot. I try to calm myself and work my finger down to the trigger. Another two dart by, but they just look like riflemen. I focus on steadying my rifle.

I catch a glimpse of an arm and move my crosshairs over, next to the very edge of the opening. I wait. I see a pair of binoculars in a hand. Somebody leans out and into my sights. There it is, the peaked cap atop his head. An officer!

My finger squeezes the trigger and my target lurches before falling out of view. I instantly ball myself up and drop back down.

“Let’s go! Let’s go!” I hiss over at Anton. “Let’s get the fuck out of here!”

I retrace my earlier steps, crawling through the rubble, slithering through twisted beams, the whole time trying to push down the thoughts of what I just did, something that I have unfortunately had a lot of practice doing since I set foot in this city. The open sky still looms over top of us, with all the panic and fear that comes with it. I hope nobody saw us.

“Did you get him?” Anton asks, following up behind me.

“Yes.” I whisper back.

“Officer?”

“Yes.”

I swallow the knot in my throat when I have to crawl over the body of a Soviet soldier, which I do as quickly as I possibly can. It gives me a sick feeling and a chill. Yet another reminder of what is to come for me.

It’s a relief to see some living Soviet infantrymen when we finally get out of the open and into a building.

“Urah, snipers.” One of the soldiers cheers us, giving us each a pat on the arm as we pass by. “Good hunting.”

“Hey.” I say, turning to him. A look of surprise crosses his face when he looks at me.

“You see a blonde girl around here?” I ask him. “About this tall?”

“In there.” He answers.

His buddies rush over to him, chattering excitedly as Anton and I leave the room.

“You’re pretty popular.” Anton jokes.

“I’m probably the first girl they’ve seen since they got here. Second, if you count Alyona.” I laugh back. “They’d still like me if I was a pig.”

A snort comes from the other side of the room.

“Not bad, Anton.” I say.

“What’s not bad?” He asks me.

“Your pig sound.”

“That wasn’t me.”

“Then who was it?”

“Her.” He says, pointing.

I look where Anton is pointing to see Alyona curled up in a corner, her ear flaps down and collar up, cradling her PPSh like a baby. She snorts again.

I burst out laughing. “How could a girl that pretty make a sound that ugly? Alyona!”

“Hey!” Anton interrupts. “She looks so peaceful.”

“We have to go, I’m getting her up.”

“Don’t wake her up.”

“Don’t wake who up?” Alyona mumbles, her eyes still closed.

“You, sleepyhead.” I tell her, squatting down to her level.

“I’m coming.” She mumbles again, stirring and slowly opening her eyes. She sits up and rubs them. “Did you kill anyone?” She asks once she is finished.

“I got an officer.” I tell her.

“Good work.” She says. “That’s cause for celebration!”

“What kind of celebration?” I ask.

“I have something that I stashed away in my apartment a few days ago, so nobody would get into it.”

“It’s vodka, isn’t it?”

“You suck at surprises.” She tells me. “We’ll go get it when we’re done today. We just have to tell Ivan where we’re going.”