Join the ranks

“The commissar will be here in a few minutes, sir.”

“Excellent.” Captain Zaitsev says to me. “Now go and fall in.”

I snap back with a quick “Yes, sir!”, and turn for my squad.

Dadonov stands in front. Behind him, Smirnov, Artyom, and Tarasenko stand in the front row, the other two behind them. I fall into the second row, and burn a hole into the back of Tarasenko’s neck with my eyes. The moment is surreal.

Our Squad sits among three others, a total of about thirty men, plus me. The squad leaders stand in front of their troops, armed with PPSh’s and Tokarev rifles. Captain Zaitsev stands even further forwards, wielding his own PPSh.

I see a few heads in front of me turn to our right, and I carefully sneak my eyes over to see Fedorov approaching us. Everyone fearfully snaps their eyes back to the front.

Fedorov confidently strolls to the front of the formation, puffing on a cigar, adorned in his commissar’s hat and a magnificent overcoat. His revolver hangs on his belt. He stops before us, hand on his hip, looking over the ranks.

Fedorov steps forwards and begins to speak, pacing in front of us.

“You are all aware of the importance of our objective. The fascist ammunition dump MUST be destroyed! Their supply line MUST be disrupted! Our comrades at the front are depending on us!”

He puffs his cigar and plays with the end of his mustache.

“No mercy will be shown to COWARDS or TRAITORS! Our success is critical. Not ONE of you is to return until the ammunition dump is reduced to ASHES! Do you understand?”

“Yes, comrade commissar!” Our voices snap back at him in unison.

“You are to approach quietly, then swiftly overtake the German position, steal as many weapons and as much ammunition as you can carry, then destroy everything else! Simple. Do you understand?”

“Yes, comrade commissar!”

“Good.” Fedorov snorts, before turning to Zaitsev. “Captain, move your men out!”