Pskov, Russia
No one had expected the Germans to come so soon .
No one knew the Germans would defeat Russia so easily.
Katja Kuznetsova is a nineteen year old girl whose brother enlisted in the Russian army. Surviving the cold Russian winter by h...
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"FIRE!"
A rally of gunshots went off in rhythm. The loud noise made me jolt awake from my deep slumber. The thick blankets and sheets that cocooned me were thrown onto the floor and my hair covered my face.
I couldn't even remember when I fell asleep last night.
A stream of light shone through the curtains, brightening up the room which I was assuming was the morning sunshine. The fire had gone out but the room was still warm. There was no sign of when Wilhelm had left.
"FIRE!" Again an angry German voice screamed and a rally of gunshots went off. The bullets were obviously stopped by something as the sound of the impact echoed throughout the buildings. Swinging my legs to the side of the bed, I lifted myself up with my arms trying to ignore the pain that ached throughout my legs.
Stiffly getting up and setting myself up on my feet, I used the bed to help support me as I shuffled my legs little by little to the window where I thought the sound was coming from.
Little gasps of pain left my mouth as I forced my legs to be used. The shirt fell down around my legs and I only then just realized that I had been wearing the same shirt for the last few days.
A shower or a bath would do nice.
The thought of a warm bath soon left my brain as I finally approached the window. Reaching out with my hand that was slightly shaking I moved the curtain away to just be blinded by the winter sun.
Letting my eyes adjust to the sunlight, I squinted and looked down to where I had a good view of the town square.
Then I had wished I never been so curious to see what the commotion had been about.
Three lines of Russian soldiers were standing on the outside of the square. Each line having about fifty or so men. All of them looking miserable and hopeless.
They looked like a pack of stray dogs just waiting to take their final breath.
My hand went up to my mouth to suppress a slight sob that was threatening to come out.
Three men at a time, one from each line were being brought against the fountain stone wall where they stood with their backs to the German soldiers who were in charge of executing all of the prisoners of war.
I winced and clenched my eyes shut once I heard another rally of shots go off. I opened them just in time to see the three men collapse to the ground, dead. Quickly three German soldiers ran towards the dead bodies and dragged them towards an army truck where they loaded the bodies on top of each other.
The prisoners stared helplessly down at their feet. Probably saying their last goodbyes to their families that would never be heard.
Shaggy beards, thin bodies, no boots, no gloves, and no sense of hope all explained these Russian soldiers who were once healthy and happy boys. They all looked young. Not much older then the mid thirties.
