Lovers in a Dangerous Time

Sasha’s arm ached from the lack of motion, but she knew that even the slightest movement could bring instant death from a German Karbiner 98k rifle. She hadn't yet spotted an enemy sniper, but she believed that he was near, hidden somewhere in the rubble of her beloved city.

A light snow fell, and Sasha recalled the childhood fun of catching the first winter snowflakes on her tongue until a series of muffled explosions and the chatter of machine gun fire quickly disrupted the cherished memory. Through the acrid smoke that had engulfed the city for months, Sasha scanned a scarred brick building, about 200 meters distant, that had once been a lively elementary school. Many walls and all the glass had given way to the relentless pounding of enemy mortars and aerial bombs; Sasha could see countless mangled small desks lying amongst crumbled and burned bricks.

Her scope desperately tried to fog up from the warmth of her hesitant breath, but it was no match for the bitter Stalingrad winter. The snow created a white blanket over Sasha which helped her blend into the wreckage of the building in which she lay. She found the accumulating snow comforting.

Sasha was on duty for about another hour. After dark, she would stealthily return to her unit’s basement headquarters for tea, hopefully some hot food and most importantly, the warm embrace of her Nikolay. Sasha had met Nikolay at the Komsomol TsK school in Naryan Mar and their mutual attraction was instant. Nikolay, six feet tall, handsome and steady, lean and hard. Yet, in his arms, Sasha easily molded her body to his; their shared warmth making them feel as one. She longed for his embrace and dreamed of marriage after the war was won.

Focus!

Sasha set aside the comforting thoughts of Nikolay and scanned the school building through her scope. She had twenty-nine confirmed kills, mostly hard-to-replace German officers recklessly taking a cigarette or coffee break. She relished the kills; gladly risking her life to free Mother Russia from this latest foreign invasion. 

A healthy human eye is excellent at detecting motion. Even though Sasha had once been a driver for a high-ranking Red Army officer, she never thought about how quickly she could focus on important movements while simultaneously filtering out less important visual noise. Humans do this every day, but snipers tend to be ‘visually’ better than most and Sasha was no exception; in fact, she ranked at the top of her class being one of approximately 2,000 female snipers in the Soviet army.

Sasha carefully scanned her surroundings for a target. She only had one shot, and that one shot must count.

A movement!

Sasha imperceptibly moved her rifle to the right and observed a barely visible man through the scope. He too was well hidden in a twisted jumble of deformed steel beams and fallen brick on the third floor of the school building. The snow cover helped hide him, but his slight movement had caused some of the accumulated snow to fall off the building in an unnatural way. His rag-wrapped rifle barrel was pointed towards the street, right eye pressed to the scope. 

He hasn't seen me! I have him!

Sasha captured the partially exposed upper-body of the sniper in the crosshairs of her scope, held her breath, hands, and arms steady, and pulled the trigger of the 7.62 mm Mosin-Nagant rifle. Before the sound of the gun shot had time to echo from the walls of surrounding buildings, Sasha’s target rolled slightly to his left and stopped, blank eyes staring out from a pale face. 

Thirty!

It was almost dark, and she needed to escape but not before verifying her latest kill. Sasha focused on the sniper’s face and her stomach felt as if it had dropped to the street.

Nikolay? NIKOLAY!!!

Tears streamed from her eyes, clearing narrow paths of dust from Sasha’s smooth face before instantly freezing where they fell on the worn stock of her ice-cold rifle.

After night fell, Sasha crawled out of her hiding position and slowly walked through the burned out building until she reached a manhole cover in the basement. Even though the temperature was -20 C, she felt nothing but the heavy burden of the death of her lover, her Nikolay. Sasha climbed down the ladder into the sewer, which was slightly warmer, and walked through the shallow, stagnant water towards a riser about 200 meters away. Up the ladder and into a safe place, although nothing could ever make her feel safe again but, she thought, how could anyone feel safe in Stalingrad under siege.

Sasha turned a corner and froze at the sight of a tall man standing in the sewer. His back was to Sasha, and she could see the barrel end of a rifle protruding from the left side of his silhouette. 

She pointed her rifle at the man.

“Who are you?” Sasha said in a firm voice. The man didn’t move. Sasha cycled the bolt action of her rifle loading a bullet into the chamber, the metal-on-metal sound echoed in the sewer.

“Who are you??” Sasha yelled.

The man didn’t move, but she heard him say: “I am you and you are me.”

The man turned and to Sasha’s shock, she saw Nikolay looking at her with dark eyes penetrating from his bloodied face.

“No more, Sasha. No more killing.”

He raised his rifle and pointed the gun’s site at Sasha’s chest.

“Join me, Sasha. You will never feel cold again,” he said as he cycled the bolt action of his rifle.

“But Nikolay… we kill to save Mother Russia,” said Sasha.

“No more killing Sasha. Come to me.”

“I can’t Nikolay. There is so much work to do.”

They held their rifles steady at each other. The silence of the sewer only broken by the rumble of distant mortar shells and the staccato bursts of machine gun fire.

“Now, Sasha.”

The snipers fired simultaneously; Sasha watched a bullet emerge from Nikolay’s rifle and approach her in slow motion. The loud report of the gun shot, and the acrid smell of burned gunpowder reached her immediately while the bullet slowly crawled towards her. She tried to move but could not. Sasha screamed as the bullet finally reached her overcoat.

She woke with a start. The cold of the steel gray day caused her arm to ache from the lack of motion, so Sasha looked through her scope and imperceptibly moved her rifle to the right.

She observed a barely visible man through the scope.