Set up to fight

“Now what the hell did you do to go and get yourself a job like this?” Dadonov asks me as we part ways with the Captain.

“It was because of something that I didn’t do.” I answer.

He nods.

“So do I get my gun now?” I ask. He suppresses a smile.

“I admire your eagerness, but let me make one thing clear.” He says. “This is serious, what you’ve gotten yourself into. You need to listen to every word that I say. When we’re out there, you stay right behind me. You follow my lead. Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

“Good.” He says. “Now let’s go and get you set up.”

I follow Dadonov to our supply room, where we meet with a clerk.

“Good afternoon.” Dadonov greets him.

“What is it that you need, sergeant?” The clerk asks.

“I was sent by Captain Zaitsev.” Dadonov says. “I need a rifle, a bandolier, a winter coat and a winter hat. For her.”

“For her?”

“Yes, and a pair of pants.” I say.

“It’s against regulations for women to wear pants.” He tells me.

“Seriously?” I ask. “I’m going to be in the field.”

He’s silent.

“It’s cold out there.” Dadonov says. “I don’t think it would hurt anyone to break just one little regulation.”

“Alright, fine.” The clerk says. “I’ll look around and see if I have anything small enough, but if somebody says something about it, it’s on you.”

“That’s fair.” I say.

“Sergeant, the rifles are over there.” He says to Dadonov, pointing in the direction of a few crates. “Pick one out while I look around for these clothes.”

I follow the clerk until he finds some pants.

“You’ll have to try them on.” He says. I stand and wait for him to look away or leave, but he stays put.

“Go on.” He says.

I brace myself against a box and pull my leather boots off before standing up and taking hold of my skirt. The clerk stands and watches as I slide it down my legs and step out of it. He hands me a pair of pants. I try them on and they are too loose. He finds another pair and watches me again as I try them on. He doesn’t even try to hide that he is staring at my legs. The second pair fits good enough, and I pull my boots on over them.

The clerk is disappointed that the show is over, but he finds me a coat which we set aside. He pulls a Soviet winter hat for me, and I try it on. I put the ear flaps down and hold them against my cheeks before I put them back up. I like it. There’s a pin with a red star on the front of it.

“Here.” Dadonov says from behind us, approaching with a rifle in hand, his own slung across his back. It looks old, the color a dull brown.

“I looked it over, and I think it’s a good one.” He says, holding it out. He pulls it back when I go to take it from him.

“First things first.” He explains. “Never point this at a person who isn’t a fascist, even if it isn’t loaded. Keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot, and never shoot something unless you know for sure what it is. Do you understand?”

“I understand.” I answer.

“This is a 3 line rifle. Mosin. Standard issue in the red army.” He says, before opening the rifle. “This is the bolt, see? It’s empty. You load it here, then bring this forward and down. After you shoot, bring it up, back, forward and down again. It holds five rounds.”

He hands it to me, and I take it from him. It’s heavy.

“That thing’s almost as big as you are.” He jokes. I look it over and play with the bolt.

“I’m going to hold onto your bandolier for now, there’s still some things I want to go over with you.” Dadonov tells me. “Get your coat, and follow me.”