Reinforcements at Stalingrad

By Efe Sarinalbant

Private Vasili Koslov sat at the back of the jeep wondering that each and every step he would make on the battlefield would make the difference between life and death. He examined his gun. It was a grey colored Tompson with a few scratches on it. He felt the smoothness on its exterior. He closed his eyes and just imagined home. He saw his mom making his favorite dish, apple pie. He could almost taste the crispy, outer crust. Suddenly a loud, echoing gunshot interrupted his fantasy. He saw the comrade to his right fall on to the ground as if he lost control of his whole body. The jeep swerved on the muddy ground and feel to its side. Private Koslov thought it was all over.

When he came to he saw himself behind a group of men. He couldn’t tell who they were. He squinted his eyes, trying to make the small symbol on their uniform. He saw an “X” like shape. It was bright red with a black and white design on it. They were Nazis! Private Koslov almost choked. He covered his mouth to make no sound. He tried to relax and played dead. Leaning his head towards his right, he saw the Tompson he had in his hands earlier. It was about two meters away from his hand. He could feel the heavy grasp of it in his hand. He glanced back at the soldiers. They were concentrated on something else. He silently and slowly got up. He tiptoed toward the handsome machine gun. He picked it up and opened the cartridge. He saw that there was a whole round of bullets. He closed the cartridge up and aimed at one of the soldiers heads. Trembling he said
“God forgive me.” and pulled the trigger.