Saturn

[Fragony]

If you are going for the 'god' narrative (being the observer)I would go for " As the silver-haired man addressed the audience, their gazes focused on him" Think John Hurt telling the story with that awesome deep voice.

[Rhyfelwyr]

Nice work, looking forward to the rest of it.

[Prussian to the Iron]

If you are going for the 'god' narrative (being the observer)I would go for " As the silver-haired man addressed the audience, their gazes focused on him" Think John Hurt telling the story with that awesome deep voice.

actually, only the fist chapter is 3rd person. the rest is being narrated solely by Alexandre. the first chapter is narrated is narrated by a cameraman, just saying what was happening.

[desert]

You should know about these sites; you might be able to upload other stories there.

http://www.fanfiction.net/
http://www.storyteller.net/
http://www.novelmaker.com/index/

[Beefy187]

Good stuff so far

[Crazed Rabbit]

Nice introduction. Looking forward to more!

CR

[Monk]

A very good start John-117!

A note to improve your formatting, however. When someone new begins to speak you should begin a new paragraph. An example of which would be the first part of the first paragraph:

“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.

I really like the descriptive words you throw in, and even better you use them correctly. Off to a great start.

[Prussian to the Iron]

heres chapter 2:

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.