| abstract
| - It was a cold morning in the dreaded city as my fellow soldiers and I were being transported to our destination. The transport we were sitting in was an old truck from the looks of it, with the paint peeling and the engine coughing after every few rotations of the wheels. It was becoming this way as the shortage on the more modern trucks was happening. The bombing from the Krout's could see to that. I am a soldier of the Soviet Union and I am dreading every minute of it. Although I am a passionate patriot, with the love of my country; I would rather be in the safety of my home than in this dreadful place they call "Stalingrad". We are the new soldiers just out of basic training, which seemed to make war look fun. I am ready to shoot the German Bastards who have taken our Cities and land away from us. It is this passion that will lead us to victory, and I know deep in my heart that it will be happening in the time that I am here in the city of our ruler. It is I, Ivan Khrushchev, that is going to banish the Nazi invaders from our homeland and bring a time of peace and prosperity to the world. The truck stopped suddenly, so I asked the driver from the back of the truck "What's wrong?", only to see a dead man. With all the loud sounds of the world around him no one had heard the shot. All of the people and I jumped over the side rails of the truck and dove for cover. I scrambled behind a large peice of fallen concrete. I checked to make sure my gun was loaded, turned the safety off, and waited to for the sound of another shot. I heard the crack of gunfire, which seemed to hit the ground around my feet. Because the opposition had fired a shot, it had give away there position and the other soldiers from my truck fire a few shots back in their direction before moving in the direction to get more cover. I stood up and moved forward as well with my rifle at the ready. As I was about half way towards the cover that I had chosen to run to I saw a German soldier come out from cover twenty yards or so away, and shot a pot shot at him. I heard a scream of pain as I dived for cover meaning that I had successfully hit a soldier, probably saving my life in the process. The feeling of finally doing something for my country made me feel proud as I was ducking for cover behind the steel drum I was now behind. Although I was hoping that it wouldn't be on my conscious, as that would be a horrible thing to remember; because hurting a man purposely is only a distasteful thing in peacetime's. As I was the first to get something done for the squad, I decided to take some initiative and I told my squad to move forward so we could take the German position. By bunny-hopping from cover to cover and laying down suppressive fire we were able to squander the Germans in a matter of minutes. We counted the bodies off the injured, and it turned out that there were 12 German losses and only 3 of ours. That brought the size of our squad down from a height of 14 to only 11 men. I told my men to eat some rations as to not have us hungry.
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