Saturn
Hey everyone, this is where i will be posting my new story, Saturn. it is not a sci-fi.
SaturnChapter 1: Alexandre
“Ladies and gentlemen, for our next guest I am proud to introduce a great man,” The silver-haired man addressed the audience, their gazes focused on him, “Mr. Alexandre Kamarov!” Alexandre pushed forward on a lever and his wheelchair moved forward, up the ramp and onto the stage. He just now began to notice he looked a little out of shape, though he struggled just to keep under 225 lb. “So, Mr. Kamarov, how are you doing today?” “I’m fine, thanks.” He rasped, his old voice crackling. “Well then, let’s get on with the interview, as soon as I give some background information.” The crowd cheered for more information about this stranger. “Mr. Kamarov was a Russian soldier in the Battle of Stalingrad, and performed many heroic actions. This man led his comrades through the battle and saved them from gruesome deaths-“ he stopped as Alexandre shook his head, a look of disgust on his face, “I didn’t save them. We did our job, and I got lucky.” He argued with a deep Russian accent, “Humph. Some luck.” He added, looking down at where his legs used to be. “Well Mr. Kamarov, I suppose that’s what you are here to do. Explain to us what happened, tell us your story. We are all listening.” Alexandre took a deep breath, and began to remember his experiences. He moved center-stage as the lights dimmed slightly and a spotlight was put behind him.
“If the people want to hear about my experiences, then they will be told. But please be, erm… understanding of what you hear today.”
Chapter 2: The March
Back then I was a sergeant with the 51st Army, 1st Guards Rifle Corps, 91st Rifle Division. It was July 16th, 1942. We had heard rumors that the Fascists were advancing toward Stalingrad, but no one believed them. I remember that night like yesterday.
My closest friends, Boris Steinberg and Dmitri Kardron, and I were up in our quarters drinking, celebrating the recent escape from Crimea. We drank heavily, as we lost nearly 57,000 men in the defense of those lands. Some army we were, only 3,000 strong. We stayed up late into the night, Telling stories of humor, love, despair, war. We talked and drank for hours, until we finally ran out of vodka, stumbling into our beds. I awoke in the middle of the night, with Boris throwing up out the window. I punched him in the stomach, for he could not keep down his drink, a weak quality among us. We both went back to our beds and fell asleep almost immediately.
The next morning, we received a rude awakening from our Starshina, SgtMaj. Polski. We were beaten for oversleeping, and were given extra work deconstructing parts of the camp, wondering the reason for this. I, uh, I remember I had a splitting headache until dinner that day, moving heavy pieces of lumber with the dogs barking next to us. I showed no weakness, for the weak are the dead. During dinner, I noticed that General Batov was waiting behind a curtain talking to his advisors. After finishing our cold dinners, the curtains opened and General Batov stepped forward to the edge of the stage. He began to speak. “Brave soldiers! You have all endured our year in Crimea, WE have all endured Crimea. Now we may have to endure more before we earn the right to rest. Stalingrad, our glorious city, has been besieged by the treacherous Nazi scum! We begin marching in 3 days, everyone will contribute to the deconstruction of the camp. Am I understood?” Every soldier in the room stood, saluted, and in unison replied “Affirmative General!”
After the General’s speech we marched off to bed, allowing his words to sink in. We had just been nearly annihilated in Crimea, and we were about to march off to the largest battle of the Eastern Front.
The next 2 days were tedious work, packing up weapons, uniforms, rations, boots, everything. I was stuck with 2 weak would-be merchantmen, forcing me to work twice as hard. Without them knowing, I slipped dog food into their pillowcases, and led the dogs to their window. They received no sleep that night, and packed up their pillows without knowing of the dog food. I later regretted that decision.
On the third day, we began marching, only a day’s trip from Stalingrad. Boris and Dmitri were marching on my sides, and we were all kept warm by the tank exhaust in front of us, even through the snowstorm.
When the snowstorm arrived, we were still about 10 hours from Stalingrad. Several men simply dropped dead, and even more suffered frostbite on their hands and feet. Once we arrived at Stalingrad, there were 69 frozen Russians behind us.
Chapter 3: Landing
The 51st Army entered Stalingrad on July 21st, 1942. Even though the Red Army had occupied the city a week earlier, the ammunition was still in short supply, and had to be shipped in across the river. Being one of the last forces to arrive, and the one with the least men, the rear of our column was given naught but knives. The division in the back of the column....it...was mine.
As we boarded a boat to cross the Volga,we could hear the metallic clings of Katyusha's being loaded with rockets, and driving back to the shore to get a clear arc into the German positions. Approaching nearer, the fog began to lift and the sun rose, shining off the Katyusha artillery. Unloading from the boats, there was the song 'Katyusha' playing from a radio at the small harbor. Oh, that song kept us cheery even as we disembarked and were handed knives. I enthusiastically grabbed the one issued to me, smiling back at Boris. Boris grabbed the knife, shifted it in his hands, and looked grimly back at me. I could tell he was scared. Grabbing him, I tried to cheer him up. 'Come Boris!' I told him, 'Look inside yourself! You can drive back theses German bastards! Just think about your family. Think about the day you kill the last German here, and we march on and free your family. We will save them Boris, it is only a matter of time. Now let's go kill some Germans.' He faintly smiled at me, and we headed up to our division headquarters.
Upon reaching the building, a tank factory, we headed up to the control room, where Starshina Polski awaited us.
Chapter 4: Smoke and Fire
"Welcome Comrades," Polski addressed us, "to Stalingrad. The center of Fascist destruction in the Motherland. I heard that some of you were given only knives, and I cannot do anything. Now maybe you will be more eager to kill, eh?" several of us chuckled a little, "We'll get right to it then. The Germans are using a nearby foundry as a base to harass our troops coming across the Volga. I am the leader for this operation, and all who disobey will be shot. Turn in all knives and rifles to me, for re-distribution as I see fit. Dismissed."
After everyone left, I approached Polski, "Sir, exactly how many are occupying the foundry?" his eyes darkened, and he turned away, "I understand, sir." I saluted, and walked away quickly.
I spent the rest of the night skulking, and avoiding my friends. I had trouble eating as well, and went to sleep sick, thinking of all the men I knew who might die tomorrow. This was not to be the first time that dream would make me twist and turn in my sleep.
The next morning, I awoke early; I had only slept about an hour. Boris, Dmitri and I were some of the first in the line at the barracks. Dmitri and I received rifles. Boris was given a blunt knife, and 2 clips of Mosin-Nagant ammunition. Once we had all received weapons, each man with a rifle was paired with 2 men with knives, in case the riflemen should die. I watched as Boris marched off with 2 of the weaker men of the division, looking at me with a look in his face, one that I shall never forget, one that showed his readiness to die, and his complete loss of all hope.
We began to move towards the foundry in 2 groups: the first group, Boris', would be the distraction; a head-on assault, guaranteed to fail. My group was to go around several buildings, leaving half the men in a building adjacent to keep up fire on the foundry. As we separated, I solemnly waved to Boris, knowing it was not proper for a final farewell.
As we rounded the final corner to the adjacent building, I could hear the gunshots and blood-curdling screams nearby. Starshina Polski warned us not to run, or we would surely be dead. He rounded the corner, leveled his PPSH-41, and fired. "Alexandre! lead your half to the building! Go now!" He yelled, over the sounds of grinding treads as a Panzer started coming down the street.
Dmitri yelled to us, "Get Down now!!!!", as he fired an RPG-2 over our heads, right into the barrel of the Panzer. The grenade exploded, disabling the main gun as it peeled back over itself. After another shot to the underside, several men rushed the tank and opened the hatch, dropping a grenade inside. As it exploded, I turned back to Dmitri. "Hey, where did you get that?" I called back, a wide smile on my face, "Polski!" He yelled back. I could tell he had been designated the platoon tankovyygrenadiere, the explosives expert.
We moved around the corner, and Dmitri and half the other men garrisoned the adjacent building. Polski led us, stacking up on the right side of the foundry, ready to sandwich the Germans between us. I hoped Boris was still alive to find.
As the sound of Polski's PPSH erupted into the street, we could hear men dying on the other side of the door. Another man kicked open the door, and was horrified to see 4 of our own men riddled with bullets on the other side. Boris, leaning against a smelting pot, was also mortified by the friendly fire. As we filed in, Boris quickly waved his hand down, with a worried look on his face. No one who noticed understood him, and waved 'hello' back at him.
An MG42 opened fire as soon as 6 men had wandered between the pots, right into its line of fire. They were torn to pieces, as Boris' face turned pale, only to be splattered with their blood. All the men had trouble lining up behind the pot, listening to the boots of Germans quietly moving to get ready for an attack. Boris called me over, and I jumped as far as I could, waiting for the sting. It never came. "Alexandre, again it seems we're in a tight situation. But not as bad as Crimea. Now listen, I have a plan drawn already."
After relaying the plan to Polski, he chose 5 men to draw fire. Boris looked at me, and I nodded back to him. He brandished the controls to the smelting pots, and made ready. Everyone with a rifle fired into the air, and the germans peeked out to shoot the decoys. Boris hesiated a moment, then pressed the green button. Tons of molten metal poured onto the now-exposed Germans, instantly burying them in soon-to-be rock. The plan had worked. the man on the MG42 almost immediately got up and surrendered. So did his comrades, all dropping their guns onto the metal grating.
Polski yelled something to Dmitri, through a window. Rifles opened fire from the building, killing most of the Germans. However, the surviving 12 returned fire immediately, and took cover behind the nearest overturned smelting pot. I leaned out, my Mosin-Nagant centered just around the corner, right at the only man who could shoot me. He exposed his head for less than a second, and I fired. His helmet shot off, as the bullet flew out his other ear. I moved up with Polski, waiting for his order. All of a sudden, I heard many metallic clings, and the subsequent landings of cloth and metal. I grabbed Boris and Polski, sprinting for the other side of the foundry as 10 explosions went off where we had just been. Polski dropped his PPSH as we took cover, and I instinctively grabbed it and aimed. Blood splattered everywhere as 10 men dropped, and Polski angrily grabbed his gun back.
As the sounds of battle began to die out, we could hear a door opening, and German reinforcements flooding in through the back. They yelled something, then began to set off smoke grenades. Dmitri called to me, "Alexandre! 2 in front of you! 17 hiding in the smoke! Get ready to charge!" He fired again from his RPG-2, and I watched as several arms flew past us. One of them landed on Boris' head, and his face became ghostly white as his throat began to convulse. He vomited into the smelting pot, and could barely stand.
I fixed my bayonet, and moved to the next pot. I rounded the corner, firing a round into the first one, and moving my arm upwards to bayonet the second man. But it didn't go how I hoped. He met my rifle with his own, and a pushing match ensued. As we danced around, I ended up pinned to the wall, his rifle inches away from my throat. I pushed as hard as I could, struggling to force him off me. I let out a loud grunt as I straightened out my arms and knocked him back several feet. I pointed the Mosin-Nagant, readied, and lunged at him, shoving the bayoneted rifle between his ribs, forcing it up as I did. He spat out some blood, then fell and died.
I chambered another round into the rifle, and picked up his Gewehr 43. I checked the magazine, then opened up into the smoke. The sounds that came back were metallic clings, rebounding my bullets. I tossed the Gewehr back to one of my men with no gun, and ran straight up the stairs. No Germans had come up there yet, and I yanked the MG42 off the window, and moved down the stairs on the other side.
As the smoke cleared, I spotted a German pressing a button to drop water on the remaining smelting pots. Now steam concealed their position, and I pulled the trigger. Bullets screamed out as the MG42 wildly fired and kicked in my hands, and I began to fire in bursts. I spotted several Germans about to throw more grenades, and shot off their legs, blood and gore splattering everywhere. More explosions rocked the building, and a German could be heard talking on a radio. We could all hear far-off explosions, and then silence. "RUN!!!!" I screamed, as whistling began to echo through the streets. The Germans moved up onto the roof, as mortar rounds tore through our positions and exploded, wiping out all but 5 men. "Starshina! Boris! are you still alive?" I called out, with no response.
I went back to grab Polski's PPSH, and found Boris standing solemnly, looking over his dead comrades, with Polski crouching next to him. "So much death, so much destruction. All for what, I wonder?" Boris thought aloud, "Boris, your family is what. Your country is what. Yourself, is for what we fight. Come. Let's go wipe out the remaining Germans."
We moved up to the stairs, and I took point. I could hear heavy gunfire from the rooftop, and Dmitri's RPG-2 firing, with the subsequent explosion. Leveling my MG, I kicked open the door, firing from behind the German's, and hitting an officer. Once I ran out of ammunition, I brought out my rifle and took cover, firing from behind cover. Polski and Boris were on either side of me as we destroyed the German opposition. I peeked up and fired repeatedly, until so many men were on the ground, there was no telling who was really dead. So Polski shot them all.
We gathered up our dead, and went back to the tank factory. The mood was mostly melancholy, with the exception of Dmitri of course. He paraded in, happy and celebrating the victory, almost annoying at times. But he was always like that: the cheery optimist. Or, he was then at least.
Chapter 5: The Perch
Two days later, we redeployed out into the city. Polski led myself, Boris, Dmitri, the two merchantmen, and 10 others on a patrol through the streets. "Boris, are you feeling the joy of war yet?" I asked. "I am! I love the screams of dying Krauts as my grenades rip off their limbs!" exclaimed Dmitri. Boris stood silent, keeping his rifle shouldered as he walked. "Stop! Stay quiet, I think I hear something." he told us. As we crouched next to the street, the sound of German Shepherds became louder and louder as they closed. the 2 merchantmen began to run, their pillows still strapped inside of their bags. I tried to yell to them to drop the bags, but they just continued running. They were killed, and the dogs stayed to feast on their corpses. Dmitri and I went and took their weapons and rations, and continued on.
As we were walking down the street, a shot rang out and echoed for several seconds. one of the men with us dropped to the ground, a hole where his left eye used to be. We dispersed into buildings on the side, searching for the sniper. There were mannequins in a shop I ran into, so I set them up on wheels to push across the street.
The sniper took the bait and shot the mannequin, revealing himself to be on the east side of the street. Again, we pushed a mannequin across, making him trip over a sewer grate. He was in one of the two office buildings to the north-east side. Our final decoy went out as we pinpointed the snipers position. The farther of the two buildings, 8th floor, left window.
Boris and I went to dispose of him, while our patrol sent mannequins to their deaths to keep him busy. We made our way behind the line of shops, moving to the back of the building.
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Re: Saturn
Originally Posted by Fragony
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