The German siege of Stalingrad had all but destroyed the historic city. The attack was to last six weeks but it had been dragged out by the ferocious Russian defence. Six months of bombing and shelling yet the soviets passion for mother Russia was as strong as ever! Winter had stalled their bombardments it was too cold for the Germans to even man their machine guns posts because they had come prepared for a summer battle. They just lay in their filthy fox holes praying that the Russians didn’t slit their throats.
Lay in the old tank factory where the Russians had set up a temporary base of operations. The sound of the raging fires was sweet compared to the overwhelming odour of rotten flesh that greeted them as they trudged to battle every morning. The sounds of songs and dance echoed through the factories and the embers of the fires rose up to the rafters evry night as the soldiers celebrated having stayed alive through the day. During the day squadrons of bomber planes drowned out all sounds as they flew over head. Bombs dropped every half hour or so, but rarely did much damage. The sounds of the explosions echoed through the sad, empty shells of buildings in the fallen city. Bodies and bullet casings lined the cobble streets. Fires still burning in the residential areas of the c ity. Stalingrad had all but been destroyed yet both sides still fought for it. Why?
Yuri scanned through the people around the fire. He caught the eye of his life long Vladimir Petrenko (Vlad for short) vlad was a simple Russian farmer weith whom yuri had grown up with. He wore the standard issue uniform : worn black boots thick woollen trousers; yellow jacket with the red army hammer and scythe stitched to it and an Ushanka adorned his head. The only thing that stood out was the small tattoo inscribed on his hand. “RIP Natasha” it read. A memorial to his lover who had passed away three winters ago. Before the war... Yuri was in...