A dead village (open to all Russians)

[Sergey Anatkin]

Country: the small village of Allenstein, East Prussia, Germany
Current time: 28th of January 1945, in the early evening hours
Weather conditions: temperature is a bit below freezing, thick grey clouds are covering the skies

Loudly chatting and laughing, a big, earth brown worm of soldiers slowly crawled through the narrow streets of Allenstein. All around Sergey, the Russian war machine was rolling westwards. Uncountable amounts of trucks, armored halftracks, tanks, horse drawn carriages and soldiers moved along the cobbled main streets of the village. Lost in his own thoughts, Sergey did walk a bit aloof the rest of his company. From time to time, he grabbed into the pocket of his brown uniform- mantel and threw a handful of roasted sunflower seeds into his widely opened mouth to afterwards contentedly chewing them.

The German village appeared like being hastily abandoned by nearly all of its former inhabitants. Most of the house’s doors stood widely open and when having a short look inside, Sergey could recognize food, clothes and all kind of items of the everyday life, everything just panicky dropped somewhere by the already fled residents. Only some elderly people had refused to leave their homes and were now carefully peeking out of their windows, scared of the Russian soldiers on the streets outside. Most of the glass was broken anyway and most of the houses had gotten damaged in the fighting that had occurred here during the last few days before. Some buildings were even still burning, coating the whole scenario into a thick cloud of black smoke.

Some meters down the road, Sergey realized a white bed sheet that had gotten hung out of one window of the destroyed village church and peacefully danced in the cold wind now. The, rather big tower of the church was collapsed, leaving only a small part of the former church accessible. Russian soldiers and medics were hastily running in and out of the church, carrying all kinds of equipment around. Wounded men got carried into the church, those who weren’t able to move anymore, lying on stretchers and improvised hand barrows. Obviously the building served as a temporary field hospital at the moment, because while marching past said church, Sergey could clearly witness a strong, disgustful smell of matter and human perspirations that was choking his throat. After the marching row had passed by, Sergey needed to deeply breathe in and out for several times, to get this stench out of his nostrils again. Still feeling a bit disgusted, the NCO snorted out on the cobbled street and slightly fastened his step.

Besides Sergey, two very young, Russian privates were cheerfully discussing the end of the war, which they were assured of coming within the next weeks. "The Fritz is completely finished now. Everywhere those fascist bastards are running from us or desperately hiding in the cellars of their houses or within small earth holes. I sometimes ask myself, if it wouldn’t be better to just kill them all. That would mean at least a lot of problems less.", one of the privates said with a very loud and excited voice. The man next to him just laughed out loud and replied: "That would be just absolutely fine with me. But who would dig all those holes afterwards? Me? Surely not!"

The conversation between the two men caused Sergey to grin inevitably. Surely these two privates hadn’t seen all too much of the war by now, because otherwise they wouldn’t be doing jokes being stupid like these. After coughing out loudly to catch the two men’s attention, Sergey raised his low, guttural voice:"You boys should better try and watch out that none of those fleeing Fascists shots a bullet right through your throat. You’re talking as if we were already back in Moscow, participating in Comrade Stalin’s victory parade. I know those Germans all too well by now and believe me, they surely won’t just wait for you in their earth holes." With a serious expression on his face, Sergey continued his way through the narrow, destroyed streets of this dead, German village.

[Aleksei Vassiliev]

Walking besides one of the trucks, their clothes dirty with mud and blood from both fallen comrades and enemies, Aleksei and some of his friends joined the loud chatting that occured around them. The past weeks had been gruesome. But then again...It had been like that ever since the Germans invaded.

Soldiers were looting and plundering in a euphoric state. Like every victorious army did throughout history. Earlier that day their platoon leader, the black bearded Siberian giant, Petrovic had led his men into a barricaded house. They checked the entire building, cleaning out closets, cupboards and slicing the matrasses in a search for something valuable. Until one of the men screamed loudly. He had found a old couple in the basement, the man holding his wife in his arms and a hunting rifle pointed at the stairs, where the young soldier stood.

Pale as a bedsheet, the soldier stood there for a few seconds unable to move.
"They're dead..."
Petrovic and Aleksei stood behind him. The young soldier realized it now he saw that the man hadn't moved at all and he noticed the blood stains on his wife's chest. The couple was death for at least a day.
"That old fool probably has his money stashed with him...You go check it."
Petrovic pushed Aleksei forward. Aleksei swallowed. The man's eyes were open and it seemed he looked straight at him.
"Come on 'Lisitsa'...We can't stay here all day..."

15 minutes later they stood back on the streets, 2000 reichsmarks richer. "Who knew the old man would've stitched his wallet in his jacket..." Aleksei quickly put his part of the money away and they joined the ranks again between their comrades who marched cheerfully along the cobbled roads.

Aleksei felt no sympathy for the old couple or the people of Allenstein. He had seen what the German army had done at Smolensk, Odessa, Leningrad and many other great Russian cities. Citizens stripped from their winter clothes, left to starv and the women raped and shot. He spat on the ground and grabbed the flask from under his mantel. "Na zdorovje." He took a gulp and put it away again.
He stopped to listen to a soldier playing his Balalaika. The sounds of the instrument brought back memories. A sad smile was showing on his face as he sat down on a barrel. He closed his eyes while he listened to the music. He sighed.
He took his tobacco out off his pocket and started to roll a sigarette, using on old issue of the ¨Pravda". Soon the Machorka scent filled the air. It felt nice to rest a little. The past days had been tough. He spat on the ground again. "Lousy war..."

[Sergey Anatkin]

[OOC: I can only apologize for the delay and as I don't actually know how active Aleksei still is, I decided to reopen this to anyone interested. Aleksei, you're most welcome to rejoin off course.]

Fastening his step, Sergey tried to pull the collar of his uniform mantel deeper into his face. The cold wind had gotten stronger and was now uncomfortably penetrating the thin, earth- brown clothes. The mood of the young Russian was getting more sinister with every step at the moment, what obviously had been one of the reasons why he just had told those two recruits off. Silently the man maundered, cursing this Leitenant, who he had just met around one hour ago. The officer had held him a lecture about the importance of fast moving troops in this holy war, and about Sergey's personal failure in not being able to drive his soldiers to an even faster marching speed. Of course, the officer had no idea, how exhausted and tired the Russian soldiers where, who silently marched through these narrow streets. Comrade officer got chauffeured through the war inside his comfortable and warm, American jeep. And the stupid masses had to keep themselves warm with vodka and angry thoughts, what of course made the men uncontrollable like a bag of flees. Instead of driving those men faster, it was hard enough to actually keep them all moving into the same direction at all. And today, Sergey would still have to make them all march for another 10 miles.

All the way, the Leitenant had been talking in such a self-pleasing and arrogant way, one could have believed he single handedly had turned the tide of more than one great battle against the fascist enemy. But incidentally Sergey knew that said Leitenant actually had spent the last few years in a cushy job in the staff of an army- corps and actually had next to no experience about commanding a real force within a combat situation.

Sergey had gotten those information from one of his friends, who served as a messenger and quite often had to visit the many staffs and head quarters around. From that friend, Sergey also knew that said Leitenant had volunteered for his new post at the direct frontline, just now that the war seemed merely decided. People like that were like a red rag to Sergey anyway and this sunshine- officer was just like the definition of a very bad dream. Luckily the company hadn't gotten into any really hard trouble since the last days or better, since Leitenant Putkin, their former company commander, had died in a German ambuscade. Putkin also had only led the company for several weeks, until he had decided to heroically jump right into the hell of German 8.8 cm shells. But at least this officer hadn't been a complete idiot at all.

Bailing his big hands to fists, Sergey continued his way through the ruins of this former lively village. In front of the last few houses at the cobbled main road, he recognized a larger group of soldiers, who where sitting together around an armored scouting- vehicle. Only a short moment later, Sergey realized that most of them belonged to his own company. The men appeared to be just in the middle of a big halt and not a single one seemed to care about the general order to vastly march on. Some sat around, some where smoking and most of the soldiers where just plainly relaxing. One of the Russians even played his Balalaika, while some others danced to the old folk song and swung around small canteens that obviously didn't contain water. When he saw Sergey coming closer, one of the Russians dropped the canteen in his hand and tried to salute to the NCO. The uncontrolled movement ended in the completely drunken soldier slipping away on the half- frozen mud and landing right in front of Sergey's bold felt boots. Loud cheering and laughing from the surrounding soldiers was the direct answer to that unwanted maneuver. A loud voice even screamed out of the group: "Dimitri, you stupid idiot, why did you throw away the good vodka?"

After sorting his words for a short second, Sergey couldn't withstand the anger inside him any longer and loudly started screaming: "Have all of you gone completely crazy or what? You're sitting around here, relaxing and drinking, just as if you where any old women, sitting in a bar in Moscow. Have you retards forgotten about that war outside this godforsaken village?" For a short moment, Sergey paused his yelling to shortly take some breath. After all the stress with that incompetent Leitenant, it wasn't very surprising that it felt good to Sergey, to just leave all his anger right away and pour it over the heads of these poor bastards, that just had crossed right into his sights.

"You all will momentarily pack your shit and ready to move on, or you'll be wishing, there would be some German SS- guys facing you instead of me!"

[Laya Eteric]

Laya walked along with the main group of soldiers. It was quite cold, but she was used to it...although the ice frozen to her boots made the march even more uncomfortable. She looked around the near abandoned city, as far as the German citizens were concerned. Seems fitting, she thought. But my feet are killing me! She looked to her left as she heard laughing, followed by Sergey's yelling at them. "Wow," she said to herself. "Must have really pissed him off to get that..."

As they started walking again, she took her rifle off her shoulder and examined it. It was clearly worn, and not just from shooting; there was a slight bit of mud cakes on the side. It wasn't her first, but it still lasted long...she'd had this one for over a year. The only thing she didn't like was the awkwardness of working the bolt, since she was left handed. She put he sling back on, and continued walking.

As Laya walked along she stepped in a small puddle--which turned out to be much deeper than expected. Her boot completely submerged in the water, causing her to trip and fall, face first, in the mud. She really started to curse up a storm as she picked herself up. "God dammit, what IS that?! There's no fucking way that hole was like that on it's own...why the hell hasn't anyone tried to fill it?!" She picks up her hat and shook it, a slight slop of mud flinging off. "Gah, now I look like I jumped in a shit heap..."

She subconsciously rubbed her stomach as she walked along. I hope I can find some food soon... she thought.

[Nikolai Boryenko]

Buildings seemed to be the warmest places in the city, but were unexpectedly cold. Nikolai was peering through a window into the ghost town, looking for enemy combatants. He looked over the land and saw nothing. No tall buildings, no building that was secluded. Nothing. Nikolai had found the best building in the area to remain hidden in the city, but nothing was happening so he decided to leave.

The cold air touched his face and gave him a chill. He put his hand over his mouth and yawned. He was up for the last two nights doing some scouting around the city to look for enemy positions. None were found. Nikolai took his hand away and walked without sound towards the main group of soldiers in the area. He walked towards the middle of them then started walking faster trying to make it to the front so he could speak with their leader. When he was a few rows from the front a soldier stepped into a puddle and fell. Nikolai helped the soldier by picking him up under the arm. "Keep moving soldier." He said without much feeling. The soldier got to his feet and started speaking. "God dammit, what IS that?! There's no fucking way that hole was like that on it's own...why the hell hasn't anyone tried to fill it?!" The voice said. It was a female now that Nikolai heard the voice. "Gah, now I look like I jumped in a shit heap..." The woman said again. Nikolai let go of her and kept moving towards the front. How do women get into the army? He asked himself.

"Praporschik. Mladshii Serzhant Boryenko reporting. The outskirts of town is deserted. There are no vantage points from what I can see." Nikolai said to the Praporschik without going through all of the normal military procedures such as saluting. Most of the leaders in the Red Army understood that being saluted was basicly painting a target on the back for any shooter. Nikolai turned away to see a fire with a pot hanging over it. How he longed for just a sip of coffee. Sleep was working it's way back into Nikolai's eyes. He rubbed his face so he could pay attantion to his superior better.

[Sergey Anatkin]

[OOC: Thanx for joining that thread guys, but methinks three participants is actually more than enough for one Neutral. So no more people join this one please. ]

Sergey's angry yelling obviously had scared the wasted Russian in front of him even more, who was now tumbling aside, trying to get some distance between himself and the loudly screaming NCO. All of the other soldiers nearly instantly started packing their equipment and none of them had any courage left to continue beefing around. Even the soldier, who had played that cheerful song on his Balalaika was now readying himself to move on, although the expression inside his face wasn't very cheerfull anymore. Grunting satisfied, Sergey tightened the rim of his long, rather heavy Mosin Nagant rifle, that he had slung around his shoulder and continued his way toward the end of the village.

For only seconds, Sergey's nerves got strained by the feel of the close presence of another person directly behind him. Instantly he turned around, already picturing some of the worst scenarios in his mind. The war had already made the young Russian kind of paranoid, always expecting the worst just to show up around the next, peaceful corner. Slightly relieving his breath, Sergey recognized Efreitor Chaschbaataryn Tsagaanbaatar, closely walking behind him. The huge man was amused grinning at Sergey, obviously caused by the NCO's sudden burst of anger that had just erupted some seconds before. Tsagaanbaatar did serve in Sergey's platoon since some weeks only, but he had already proven his worth in the hard fighting while the crossing of the Vistula river and in the bloody days right after. During that short time, Sergey and Tsagaanbaatar had gotten quite good friends, as both of the men were rather rugged and edged characters.

Tsagaanbaatar was originally coming from Mongolia, had the statue of a brown bear and his hands did merely equal pranks, what of course made him rather respected under his comrades. On his back, the man carried one of the, very heavy DP- machineguns and around his neck he had additionally slung a big box, that was completely filled with ammunitions for the machine- gun. Although Tsagaanbaatar was hung like a drudge, the huge Mongolian didn't appear to even be a bit exhausted after the long marsh of the day at all.

Now, he still smilingly turned his head to Sergey and rather silently said: "The men are just tired and some of them don't know what they are doing anymore. We should grant them some rest and a canteen full of hot soup. But I guess you do have your own, damned orders that say otherwise?" Just in the moment, the Mongolian put up to answer his own question, he got disturbed by a female voice, loudly screaming: "God dammit, what IS that?!" Both of the men used to turn around simultaneously, starting to cheerfully laugh at the more than abstract sight. A rather chubby, female soldier had slipped on the muddy ground, falling face first, right into a quiet big puddle of mud. Now her whole uniform was covered with dirt all over, with nasty, brown sips of water running through her face. The loud, guttural laughs of Sergey and Tsagaanbaatar slowly used to end after some seconds, while another Russian stepped closer and carefully helped the female soldier to get back on her feet again, sending her away instantly afterwards. Although the day had turned out all too stressful, that hilarious picture had tangibly lightened up Sergey's mood for the short moment.

While Sergey and the huge Mongolian where still grinning at each other, the Russian who had just helped the woman to get back up again, turned towards the two men and addressed a short report to the higher ranking NCO. The soldier carried the rank of a Mladshii Serzhant and his face wore a rather worn out and tired expression. The man hadn't paid any respect to the normal, military procedures, but in Sergey's eyes, these forms of behaving were already way antiquated, especially throughout such outstanding situations like this was one. Only confirming the report with a short nod, Sergey curiously followed the sight of the young man standing in front of him.

Directly at the exit of the small, heavily destroyed village, the armored scout car, Sergey had discovered some minutes before, was still standing besides the cobbled main road of the small town. It was a Ba- 64 type vehicle and the soldiers around it still didn't appear to show any signs of preparing to continuing their marsh. Quite in the contrary, the crewmen were relaxed boiling a big pot full of coffee. The pot spread out a wonderful smell of roasted coffee beans, but nevertheless, Sergey's anger instantly got explosively heated up again. Probably the soldiers by the vehicle hadn't heard his yelling before, but the Praporschik actually didn't care a lot in that moment. Ignoring the soldier in front of him, he walked over to the scout car in fast, long steps, bailing both of his hands to fists again. In the corner of his eyes, he discovered Tsagaanbaatar, directly following behind him. Without hesitating and not saying a single word, Sergey headed for the fireplace, zestfully kicking against the big pot of coffee, bringing it to tilt over in the process and swapping it's whole content to flow into the muddy grounds. With a face red of anger, Sergey expectantly watched at the scout car's crew and the Infantrymen around him, waiting for any response.

[Laya Eteric]

Laya suddenly blushed after realizing her sudden outburst: of ALL the ways to react, she chose the one that made her the most obvious. She nodded thankfully to the man that helped her up, the continued walking. She heard the laughing of Sergey and Tsagaanbaatar, as she wiped the mud off her clothes. But didn't bother with her face. She realized that if she did, it would be quote obvious how bright a red her cheeks had become. Unless the mud has already flowed off! She certainly hoped it hadn't, but wasn't sure, and tried to hide her face anyway.

A few moments later, she glanced to see the two again, running towards more soldiers next to a BA-64. She watched as Sergey kicked their pot of coffee over, and stared at them angrily. What the hell? she thought. Normally, she'd ask WHY he did such, but she was still embarrassed by her mud outburst. Is that the same guy from before...? She thought for a moment. Eh, probably.

A bit later, she saw a glinting in one of the houses, and decided to go in. It was typical of the houses: abandoned, damages, and looted. Another soldier rummaging around snickered when he saw her. Just don't look at him... she thought as she went into the destroyed bathroom. The glinting was from a mirror. She looked...the mud had washed off. Though her face was more pale again, her cheeks were still a bit red. She scooped up rain water that had collected in a bucket nearby, and washed her face. "Better..." She then lightly wetted her uniform, and shook most of the mud off her uniform. She sat for a moment and watched the troops walk by through he window. She picked up the bucked and sipped some of the ice cold water.

She stepped back into the street, and walked with the rest. "Better now, hun?" said a random soldier in a slightly teasing tone. "Yeah, yeah..." She glanced back. " This is gonna be a looooong walk..." she quietly said to herself...

[Nikolai Boryenko]

Nikolai's report was met with only a nod. He quickly realised he was staring at the cup of coffee. He quickly blinked a few times and shook his head slightly. What came into focus now was the Praporschik walking towards the men who had been brewing the coffee. The man walked quickly as if he was on some sort of mission. He made his way to the pot and gave it a kick tipping it over halfway. Nikolai did not care to watch the rest. He turned his back and took out his canteen. He raised it to his lips, but was greeted with air. He needed to refill his canteen somewhere, maybe even splash some cold water on his face to wake himself up.

Nikolai spotted a house that a few soldiers had gone in and out. If there was any place that would have water, it would be there. He walked at a normal pace towards the house with canteen in hand. As he made his way closer to the house he heard a voice. "Better now, hun?" The voice said teasingly. Nikolai didn't even look in the direction of the voice. He ruled it as one man making fun at another for showing some type of feminism. Nikolai brushed shoulders with a bigger person. He didn't bother to look at the face, but he recognized the voice. It was that of the woman he had helped up earlier. "Yeah, yeah..." The voice said uninterestedly.

Nikolai heard shuffling. He saw a man scavenging for valuables. "Have you nothing better to do?" Nikolai said disgustedly. The man stood to full height and looked at Nikolai. He stood a head and shoulders over Nikolai. "I could always scavenge through your things, comrade." The man said in a gravelly voice. Nikolai purposely moved him arm to show his sleeve marking him as a Mladshii Serzhant. The man just looked at him with hate and walked out the door. Nikolai walked over to a bucked full of water. It had fresh mud swirling around in it. Lucky me.

[Aleksei Vassiliev]

(OOC: I hope it's still okay for me to rejoin and post? Otherwise let me know and I'll delete it.)

Aleksei woke up from his thoughts when he heared the laughter from the men around the scout car, followed by the loud and unmistakeably angry voice of praporschik Anatkin.

"Have all of you gone completely crazy or what? You're sitting around here, relaxing and drinking, just as if you where any old women, sitting in a bar in Moscow. Have you retards forgotten about that war outside this godforsaken village? You all will momentarily pack your shit and ready to move on, or you'll be wishing, there would be some German SS- guys facing you instead of me!"

Aleksei sighed. "I guess war waits for no one..." He slung his rifle around his shoulder, blew out some smoke and threw his cigarette on the muddy ground. "Come on back in line comrades...if we're lucky we'll be in Berlin soon ready to break some führers bones before killing him." He said to lighten the mood again. Some chuckled a bit their eyes still on the praporschik who was now talking to a huge efreitor. "...And I thought Petrovic was scary..."

The wind seemed colder than before. "How typical..."
"At least it's not raining..." Said the man next to him.
Aleksei grunted. He thought about grabbing his flask from under his coat but his hands were too frozen even with his gloves.
How he longed to get warm again, to dry his soaked and mud stained clothes and get a decent hot meal. But then again so did every other poor soul who were marching all around him.
He noticed praporschik Anatkin kicking a boiling pot over of what seemed coffee and waited for the outbreak of angry yells at the soldiers standing in front of the scout car. "Sorry Comrades...no coffee for you..." He chuckled as he went by the scared and disappointed faces.

Suddenly he saw someone coming from one of the damaged houses. The Mladshii Serzhant who had once saved his life. "How are you feeling Laya?" He smiled friendly. "Enjoying the walk like the rest of us? I've heared it's another 10 miles of strolling at least." He grinned to underline his feelings about the march were likely the same as hers.

[Sergey Anatkin]

Hot steam sprout into the cold air, when the boiling coffee slowly drained away into the partly frozen, brown earth. Still not saying a single word, Sergey stood aside the armored scout car and angrily stared at the soldiers in front of him. None of them showed any signs of having enough courage to gainsay the wildly glancing Praporschik. Inside the faces of the men, one could easily read that they did just exactly know what they had done wrong. After another moment of silence, the crewmen of the small scouting vehicle hastily started to throw their belongings into the car and to affix all kinds of equipment outside the armored plates of it. While doing so, the Russians strained tried to keep their eyes away from Sergey, in the sheer hope not to meet his view for even a short second. Just very few moments later, the other soldiers around the BA- 64 also started to get themselves ready for marching on. Two of them had to tow one of the, very heavy Maxim- MGs and were now also beginning to slowly move on again, speaking out rather violent curses meanwhile.

Efreitor Chaschbaataryn carefully grabbed Sergey's shoulder to catch his attention and pulled him a bit off the rest of the soldiers, before he started speaking to the Praporschik in a rather calm manner: "As I said before, the men are awfully tired, what makes them stupid and lazy of course. I guess you could shout at them, just as loud as you wish, without being able to change anything." Slowly nodding his head, Sergey turned around to the huge Mongolian and replied with his hard, guttural sounding voice: "Do you really think, I wouldn't prefer a warm, dry snuggery, having a big bottle of vodka and a nice, Russian girl already preheating my soft bed for me. But this nightmare of a war won't let us return to Natascha's lap, before our troops haven't reached this bloody hell of Berlin. And hell yes, I would do a whole lot of things, just to make them arrive there a bit faster, if possible."

Before turning around to the men again, that still stood at the BA- 64, Sergey threw a deep, scanning view at the gigantic soldier standing besides him. Relaxed, Chaschbaataryn scratched with his big hands through his beard. In the expressionless face of the Mongolian man, Sergey couldn't read any answer for now. But in the moment he actually didn't care all too much about the opinions of his subordinates anyways. All he cared for, was making his men orderly leaving this dead, German city and vastly move on to the next one within today.

Just in the moment, Sergey wanted to start the usual dressing down of his soldiers, that this situation just did afford from him, a group of Soviets came out of the cellar- entrance of a single standing house directly nearby. The soldiers were loudly screaming something to each other, the Praporschik wasn't able to understand for now and in front of them, the Russians seemed to hastily jostle two civilians forward. Of course, Sergey's interest got caught immediately and straightly he turned towards the big, three storied building. The Mongolian used to follow directly behind again, as the situation did seemingly appear to have woken his interest as well. When Sergey was only a few more steps away from the building, he finally could understand at least parts of the loud screaming: "... SS? You German whore, ... and you wanted to hide him from us. We'll ... you Fascist bastard."

It took Sergey only seconds, to recognize the two civilians as each one woman and one very young man, who merely equaled a boy actually. Right now, the two Germans were scared looking at the Soviet soldiers standing around, who still had their MPs and rifles aimed at them. Only a short, questioning view at one of the man behind the two Germans was enough, to make him instantly report in a very proud manner: "Efreitor Rasptaschin reporting sir, these two Germans have desperately tried to hide from us inside the cellar of this destroyed building over here. The man possibly is a deserted, Fascist soldier, maybe even from the SS."

Slowly nodding his head in some kind of agreement, Sergey took some seconds to angrily stare at the two, captured Germans. They wore some old, shabby appearing, grey coats with holes all over. Their faces were pale and looked very haggard. The thin and insubstantial appearing woman had some obvious, grey strokes of hair, only partly hidden under her dirty head cloth. Most possibly, the older lady had been the mother of the boy, distressed trying to save her son from his bloody destination. None of the two did momentarily mean any real danger to Sergey and his men, but actually he just neither had the time nor the nerves left to reconsider this situation for a very long time. In the corner of his eyes, he discovered two Russian soldiers, that seemed to be lost in chatting and absolutely uninterested in the whole situation at all. At a closer look, he discovered one of the soldiers to be the female, that just stultified herself by falling over her own legs only several minutes before. Within some seconds only, Sergey used to make up a rather simple and fast decision, loudly screaming over to the two Mladshi Sershants:

"You two over there, you better hurry up getting over here to me. As you seem to just don't care about what your comrades are doing here, I'll make you damned care for sure. Get your rifles ready and vastly solve this problem here, I'm awaiting your reports within the next five minutes!"

[Laya Eteric]

As Laya walked, she heard someone say, "How are you feeling Laya? Enjoying the walk like the rest of us? I've heard it's another 10 miles of strolling at least." She turned to see Aleksei, smiling at her. "Oh, hello! Didn't expect to see you here, Aleksei. Eh, I'm a bit better than a few moments ago...and yeah, you are probably right about there being at least ten miles left to walk...oh, I can't wait til we finally get there and we can rest." She stopped for a moment when she heard all the yelling about the nearby civilians.

And then, she heard Sergey's voice yet again, and he was yelling. "You two over there, you better hurry up getting over here to me. As you seem to just don't care about what your comrades are doing here, I'll make you damned care for sure. Get your rifles ready and vastly solve this problem here, I'm awaiting your reports within the next five minutes!" Laya immediately went wide eyed and was blushing madly. What had I done...? she thought to herself. Was it the way I stopped? Or how I didn't react to the commotion over there...? She slowly turned and started to approach Sergey..."Yes, sir...c'mon, Aleksei..."

Laya glanced around as she walked back to Sergey. Oh god, I am not going to enjoy this... she thought. She continued towards him, being careful to avoid the mud puddle from earlier, and after a few more steps had finally reached Sergey. "Y-yes sir...? What is it...that you want me to do...?" She stood up strait, ignoring even a slight itch on her leg. She thought to herself, Ugh, this just isn't my day...

[Nikolai Boryenko]

Nikolai's ears pricked to the sound of whimpering and yelling. He put away his canteen without filling it and moved towards the door. Once into the dirt road he could hear everything clearly and loudly. "... SS? You German whore, ... and you wanted to hide him from us. We'll ... you Fascist bastard." The yells said with violent pushes and shoves in between. Nikolai could see an elderly woman and younger boy, maybe seventeen, being pushed towards the Praporschik. Nikolai moved slowly and deliberately as not to be noticed by anyone, one of his better skills.

Nikolai took his place leaning up against a brick wall with his cloak type coat laying over his arms not to expose his patch showing his rank. He then started to assess the situation. The woman was obviously too old to be of any use to the Nazi regime and her face showed genuine fear. The boy was old enough to be in the Nazi regime, but did not look to have ever seen a battle. His look was not of the fear that soldiers showed. It was fear that young boys show when their mother leaves them behind or when they get lost in the woods.

"You two over there, you better hurry up getting over here to me. As you seem to just don't care about what your comrades are doing here, I'll make you damned care for sure. Get your rifles ready and vastly solve this problem here, I'm awaiting your reports within the next five minutes!" The Praporschik yelled at two others Mladshii Serzhants that were exchanging words. Nikolai crossed his arms and stood. He didn't feel right about something. He knew how much he hated the Nazis, even the German people, but he didn't feel the hate he normally would have for the two Germans.

One of the two Mladshii Serzhants slowly turned to the Praporschik and spoke to him, studdering over her words. Nikolai yawned and covered his mouth very subtly. He felt something tug at him, telling him to go over there and do something, but Nikolai wanted to let the situation go as far as he could before he needed to step in.

[Aleksei Vassiliev]

"Oh, hello!" Laya greeted. "Didn't expect to see you here, Aleksei. Eh, I'm a bit better than a few moments ago...and yeah, you are probably right about there being at least ten miles left to walk...oh, I can't wait till we finally get there and we can rest."
"I feel the same way." his smile grew wider. "Some soup or a hot meal waiting at the end of the march would be nice too..." He could see himself sitting at the head of a table, a steamy pot of stew in the middle. His stomach growled and he closed his eyes for an instant. Patience....

Nearby yelling made Laya and Aleksei stop abruptly. It seemed the fuss was about two captured Germans: An older lady and a young boy, fit to join the Hitler youth.

"You two over there, you better hurry up getting over here to me. As you seem to just don't care about what your comrades are doing here, I'll make you damned care for sure. Get your rifles ready and vastly solve this problem here, I'm awaiting your reports within the next five minutes!"
Praporschik Anatkin shouted at them. His anger not quite cooled down since a few minutes before.
"Yes, sir...c'mon, Aleksei..." Laya made her way to the praporschik and Aleksei sighed as he followed her. "Efreitor Aleksei Vassiliev reporting sir." He stood up straight next to the tall woman and gazed from the praporschik to the older woman and boy.
They both looked at the ground in fear.
"So...Afraid are you? Afraid of the mighty Red army you German swines!" Said one of the soldiers mockingly, tightening the grip on his rifle.
"Who wouldn't be scared when guns are pointed at you..." Aleksei took a small step towards the woman. God...She looks just like my mother...
"Who are you? What's your name?...Wer sind sie? Was ist Ihr Name?" He tried to smile and sound friendly to her, if it was even possible with his rough and unwashed face and dirty clothes.
She shook her head and shivered. "Your son? Ihr sohn? How old? Wie alt?"
Still no answer. Instead she started to sob a little.
Christ...

[Sergey Anatkin]

Loudly, Sergey's angry yells echoed through the cold evening air, causing some of the by standing soldiers to even frightened turn around to the young Praporschik. The two Russians, that he had shouted at to come over, slowly started moving while staring at the whole scenery in a mix of fear and disbelief. Both of the Soviets stopped right in front of him, standing straight and expectantly awaiting, what would be happening in the next few moments. "Y-yes sir...? What is it...that you want me to do...?", the chubby, female Mladshii Serzhant stutteringly addressed to Sergey. While speaking, she strained tried to appear somehow soldiery, what actually wasn't a very successful attempt. The anger was still flaming in the Praporschik's eyes, when he now threw a devastating view at the tall, plumb female as an answer to her just asked question.

Just before Sergey could react anymore, the soldier standing besides her, opened his mouth and spoke in a way more confident voice: "Efreitor Aleksei Vassiliev reporting sir." The Efreitor in front of him was in a miserable shape, wearing an unwashed, partly shredded uniform and a totally worn out, pale- grey face. But honestly, Sergey hadn't had the possibility to afford the luxury of having a look into any mirror and he actually wasn't all too interested in his own appearance throughout those days anyway.

The two Germans were still gazing from one Russian to the next with a nearly hopeless expression in their view, obviously avoiding to look at Sergey all the time. In pure fear, the elderly woman tried to somehow hide her son behind her own body, when the young Efreitor made a few steps toward the two civilians. Some of the Russians used to instantly answer that gesture with loudly mocking the two Germans. The young Efreitor was mumbling something to himself, what Sergey wasn't able to understand at all, before he carefully took another step toward the old woman. Trying to calm her down a bit, the young man started speaking to the elderly woman now, using both Russian language and a very crude German. But neither the female nor the young boy used to answer to the Russian soldier, only acknowledging his words with shivering even harder. For a short moment silence set in, only broken by the scared female, who now wholeheartedly starting sobbing. Watching at that whole, awful picture, actually only caused Sergey to heavily wonder, why he still wasn't able to feel any compassionateness for these two, pitiable figures at all. It somehow scared himself, how much all the death and fighting had changed the young Praporschik, who now bailed his right hand to a hard fist again.

"Soldier, are you completely insane? Immediately stop talking to those Germans or I will just give you the same treatment, as those two Fascists will receive right now.", Sergey yelled at the Efreitor, who had just introduced himself as Vassiliev. The view of the Praporschik couldn't leave any doubts, in him being absolutely resolute in letting actions follow up his words. Speaking in a serious and hard tone, Sergey continued his words: "And you, woman, what do you think I want you to do now? Are you really stupid enough, to still not having understood? You two are going to take the prisoners over to the wall of that house there and quickly dispose them, this is an order! We don't have any time to care anymore, as our superiors need us to continue following the retreating, broken enemy forces just as quick as possible. And dare to shoot your rifles off target, as any of you two, who does so, can just place himself next to the Fascists."

Instantly after Sergey had finished his words, Efreitor Tsagaanbaatar stepped over to the two prisoners and forcefully lifted the woman off the cold, cobbled road. Except a loud scream, the elderly female didn't show any signs of resistance anymore. Still fearfully glancing at the surrounding Russian soldiers, the young boy slowly stood off the ground too, appearing to have already accepted the destiny, that was waiting for him. But than suddenly, events used to follow up each other all too fast to realize.

First, Sergey saw the woman in front of the huge Mongolian turning around toward her son for a second again, fearfully widening her eyes while loudly screaming: "Siegfried, nein!" Following next was a fast movement of the boy's right arm reaching behind his back and instantly, the Praporschik could discover a short, metallic glance in the right hand of the young boy. Obviously he had managed to hide something behind his back all the time and now, just before any Russian could possibly react to that threat, his hopelessness had driven him to a last act of madness. "Stirb, du Russisches Schwein!", the boy screamed while he moved his whole body forward in a zestful attack against Tsagaanbaatar. Completely surprised, the gigantic Mongolian could only half repel the German's desperate move and loudly screamed in agony, when the large knife in the hand of the boy got stabbed right into his shoulder and deeply slit down his upper arm. In a forceful movement, the Russian Efreitor somehow managed, to push the small attacker aside, who suspirious landed on the hard bricks of the village's main road. The knife was still sticking out of the Mongolian's right arm and dark- red blood slowly started flowing out the wound, when Tsagaanbaatar grimly smiled at Sergey now, after he had stared at his wounded arm for a short moment by himself.

Translations:

"Siegfried, nein!"
"Siegfried, no!"

"Stirb, du Russisches Schwein!"
"Die, you Russian pig!"

[Laya Eteric]

Laya gulped slightly at the hard glare she received from Sergey. She then noticed Aleksie's more confident greeting a few moments later. I must have sounded pathetic, she thought. She paused as she heard the commotion behind her. Yet Aleksie walked over to the Germans, and tried to talk with them. What is he doing...? I doubt this guy is going to like that... And it turns out that she was right, as after a few moments, she heard Sergey yell, "Soldier, are you completely insane? Immediately stop talking to those Germans or I will just give you the same treatment, as those two Fascists will receive right now."

Laya shifted a bit, waiting for what he would say next. "And you, woman, what do you think I want you to do now? Are you really stupid enough, to still not having understood?" She nodded submissively, now blushing even more than when she had fallen in the mud not five minutes ago. she listened as he continued. She may have been physically large, but in her mind, she felt very small. "You two are going to take the prisoners over to the wall of that house there and quickly dispose them, this is an order! We don't have any time to care anymore, as our superiors need us to continue following the retreating, broken enemy forces just as quick as possible. And dare to shoot your rifles off target, as any of you two, who does so, can just place himself next to the Fascists." She nodded. "Yes sir..." She turned around, and walked to the Germans. "Hmmm?" she said as she watched what was happening. The, the boy yelled "Stirb, du Russisches Schwein!" and stabbed Tsaganbataar. She was surprised at how it stayed in his arm.

As the boy and woman were positioned, Laya walked in front on one, the boy. She waited for Aleksie, before unslinging her rifle. Goddamn, I never expected to be executing civilians! she thought. Laya opened the bolt of her Nagant part way, making sure the shell was loaded. She closed it, and raised the rifle, followed by Aleksie. "I'll try to make it quick," she very softly mumbled, in German. She trembled slightly as she put the sights between his eyes...after pausing a few minutes, she slowly squeezed the trigger.

As the gunshot echoed, Laya looked at the boy, sliding against the wall, a clean hole in his forehead. She worked the bolt, the empty cartridge wringing on the road. "It is finished..."