Trouble at the Tractor Factory

The factory district lies in the north of Stalingrad. Heaps of twisted metal protrude from the decrepit remains of used to be buildings. The streets are lined with rubble and the air is thick with smoke.

“Where are we?” I call ahead to Ivan.

“The Dzerzhinsky Tractor plant.” He calls back, then stops by an entrance. “Shall we?”

We all head inside.

“They’re still working!” I say in astonishment.

“You didn’t know?” Alyona teases me.

“Who needs a tractor here?”

“They’re not making tractors.” Ivan tells me and points. “They’re making those.”

I turn my head to a new tank in front of us. A few factory workers scramble around it as they put on the finishing touches. Two men approach the tank, one of them a Red Army officer. I assume the other is some type of manager.

“When will this tank be ready for the front?” The officer calls out.

“Ten more minutes!” One of the workers responds.

“We need it now! Make it five.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Comrade.” The manager says to the officer. “Do you have soldiers to crew this machine.”

“No.” The officer responds bluntly.

The manager sighs and turns around.

“Any volunteers?” He calls out.

“I’ll go.” A worker calls back with a raised hand.

“Me too.”

“Two more!” The officer demands.

“I’ll do it.”

“One more! What about you?” He asks a worker.

The worker takes a deep breath. “Fuck it.” He mutters. “I’ll go.”

We watch the four of them climb inside the unpainted tank and drive it out of the factory toward the sounds of battle. The officer approaches us.

“Sharpshooters.” It’s good to see that you showed up. I could use you.”

“What is the problem, comrade?” Ivan asks him.

“A German sniper. He’s been killing our machine gunners. I want you to give him a taste of his own medicine.”

“We can do that.” Ivan says, unfolding his map. “Show me where your men encountered him last.”

“Here.” The officer points.

Ivan folds his map and turns around to face us. “Let’s go.”

He leads us through the ruins of the tractor factory and out into the factory district, leading us towards the front. The ever-present sound of gunfire grows louder.

“I’m nervous.” I mutter over to Anton.

“First time dealing with a sniper?” He asks.

“Yes.”

“It’s different.” He says. “Honestly, it stresses me the fuck out.”

“We’ll get him.” I assure him, trying to fake some confidence.

Ivan stops and backtracks to us.

“You three go that way.” He orders us with a point. “Be careful. This is it.”

“Understood.” Anton responds. “Come on, girls.”

I follow Anton, and Alyona follows behind me. We cut through another workshop before stopping near a door. Anton peers through a gap in the wall left by a missing brick, keeping his head back.

“There’s a ruined building ahead of us.” He whispers back. “It might be a good spot.”

“Whose turn is it to go first?” I ask, taking a moment to stretch. I catch Anton’s eyes resting on my hips when I straighten myself out, and he quickly snaps them back up to my face. “I think it’s you.” I tell him before he has a chance to answer me.

“Who’s second?” Alyona asks.

“Probably you.” I tell her. “I went first last time.”

“Ok.” Anton says. “Come up to this hole and cover us. “Keep an eye on those windows. The building to the right.”

“Got it.” I answer and quickly check my rifle before stepping up to the small hole in the wall. I cautiously peer through it until I locate the building Anton described to me.

“Both of you.” Anton orders. “Give me a minute to find a spot before you come, so I can cover you. Tatya.”

“Yes?” I ask, raising my rifle to my shoulder and looking through the scope.

“Keep that thing pointed at the windows until it’s your turn to go.”

“Understood.” I answer him. I try my best to steady my aim, but the rifle is heavy and my crosshairs dance about the windows. My first time dealing with an enemy sniper, and I have to shoot while fucking standing. Perfect. All while my best friends’ lives are at risk. No pressure.

“I’m going.” Anton calls. I draw on all the strength I have to hold my rifle steady, and somehow, I manage. It’s all for nothing though, because nobody fires.

“He made it.” Alyona whispers to me.

I have to start breathing again and my rifle begins swaying once more.

“Good.” I whisper back. “Wait a minute and let him find a spot.”

Once a short time has passed, Alyona whispers over to me. “I’m going.”

“Be quick.” I whisper backs then take a quick breath to begin exhaling and steadying my aim. I try to calm my racing heart. Doing so is an improvement, but my aim is still not perfect, and the crosshairs still move slightly.

Again, nothing.

“Hey!” Alyona’s hushed voice calls out. “Get over here.”

“I’m coming!” I hiss back and lower my rifle, then take a deep breath and step away from the window. It feels good to finally rest my arms. Cautiously, I approach the door.

That fluttering feeling in my chest is back again. I can feel my palms sweating. The idea of running across the open makes me want to throw up in my mouth. It is the one thing that I hate more than anything else. I’d almost rather cuddle with Maxim.

“Are you coming?” Alyona hisses over.

I crack my knuckles, grip my rifle, and take up an athletic stance.

“Fuck this.” I mutter to myself. “Fuck this.”

I narrow my eyes and propel myself forwards, charging towards the door and picking up speed. The doorway whizzes past my body, and I find myself underneath the horror of the smoky sky and in open air, running with everything that I have.

My entire body jolts as if I were electrocuted when I hear a rifle crack. My heart feels like it jumps out of my chest. I scream and clear the rest of the way to cover in just three steps, which are more like giant leaps. I hear Anton shoot as I dive down next to Alyona, where I ball myself up against the wall.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck!” I gasp, flailing on the ground and grabbing at my side. “I think he got me! I think he got me!”

“Fuck!” Alyona cries out rushes over to me. “Where?”

“Here!” I cry. “It’s wet! Just like the last time!”

She grabs me and frantically looks me over, trying to find the wound.

“Does it hurt?” She asks me.

“No.” I gasp.

“That’s because he hit your canteen.” She says, yanking it from my belt and holding it up so I can see the hole. A few drops of water drip from it. “You’re fine.”

“Fuck.” I breathe a big sigh of relief, laying my head back against the wall.

“You’re a lucky bitch.” Alyona tells me. “You were about this close to being hit.”

Anton rushes out of the ruins and joins her by my side.

“What happened?” He asks in a panic.

“Tatya got lucky.” Alyona tells him and tosses the canteen over to him. He tries to catch it with one hand but it bounces off his fingers to the ground. He picks it up.

“Thank god.” He sighs. “From what I heard, I thought she got shot.”

“Not this time.” I tell him, finally beginning to catch my breath again.

“There won’t be another time.” Anton assures me.

“What do you mean?” I ask him.

“I got him.” He tells me, a big grin crossing his face. “Go tell Ivan the news. We’re going to go get his dog tag.”