One Day at a Time

A brief hush….the silence is deafening and in this moment I am lost. And so I sit, my feet numb with pain, my torso too heavy for my legs to carry. There are twelve of us now, two groups of six. Two days ago, there were more than 50 sons and daughters of mother Russia garrisoning this heap of scorched earth, mortar and ash. Only the west and southern walls remain at the crossroads of Sovetskaya and Lenina on the banks of the River Volga. Our bombed out dwelling was once a large department store near Park Pobedy. I remember it as a child. I was twelve feet tall when Papa carried me on his shoulders as he and Mama strolled down the promenade in the mid day sun. Mama commenting on the lovely hat for sale in the window. Papa sifting through the rubles in his pocket as if he didn’t already know he only had exactly 21 left, but 17 was a small price to pay for his one true loves happiness. The thought warms my core. I catch myself smiling for the first time in what seems like days.

Crack! Snap! Hiss! A new German heavy machine gun rips through the air like paper being torn. It pops my mind quickly back to reality, and the warmth which washed over me quickly evaporates. A maxim stands watch where the motionless manikin once stood, and I’ve ordered the entrances barricaded. The aroma of wood lacquer and fresh flowers is replaced with the stench of death. Every city block gained or lost is paid for in lives. Mothers lose sons, sons lose fathers, and a generation dissolves as summer fades to fall.

The cellar is now filled with the dead and dying. A mixed squad remains, faces and hands black with ash, bandaged limbs soiled and soaked with blood, knuckles white from strangling their rifles…..I see no fear in their eyes. “Russians! Surrender! You will die all the same!” Echoes through a German megaphone; answered hastily with, “Howl, you wolves! We still have long to live!” I can’t help but wonder how long….