Alongside those who are sinful.

Chapter 1

Inhale.

I inhaled slowly and smoothly. My main goal in shooting the highest ranking soldier is to sow confusion upon the subordinates. It was always hit or miss, as some people work well under pressure. I just hoped that this squad was not one that did that.

Align the crosshair.

I put the middle of the crosshair directly on the chest of the high ranking individual. His fate was sealed and he was not even aware.

Squeeze.

The metal buttplate of my K98 punches into my shoulder. I blink involuntarily as the rifle deafens me and just for a split second, I can see a fine spray of red mist linger in the air as my target falls to the ground.

Exhale.

The Soviet squad is in disarray as a torrent of machine gun fire cuts the rest of them to ribbons. With a leather gloved hand, I pull my bolt handle up and slowly back, careful to collect my brass.

"A good hunter leaves no trace." Is what my father had told me.

My name is Dietrich Fischer, and I am a hunter.

XXX

I had often wondered about the end of the war. I have taken part in it for so long that I no longer recognize anything else. This is my life. The fact that there was a possibility that it would end had briefly scared me. Not because we were on the losing side but because I know nothing else beyond it.

But, as the war dragged on and as I survived it, I learned that there will always be a need for people like me. There will always be a war to fight in. My only concern right now is staying alive to see the next one.

"Man is the wolf of Man."

A Polish soldier told me that before I shot him in a firing squad. His words were, and are, true. I had spent more than an hour talking to him after he had surrendered. He told me had fought in The Great War, many years ago. He said that his quote was true back then, and even before. I thought about it then and realized he was right. Our entire history is a bloodbath. He said that this war is no different from the countless ones in our past.

Surprisingly, when I told him of his fate, he seemed unfazed. He said he wanted to meet his wife and daughter in heaven and that was proud to have died in the defense of his country. I never thought I would respect an enemy so much. I relayed that to him and he smiled warmly. I made sure to have a picture taken of me next to him.

He smiled for it, and so did I. I still keep that picture in the inside of my helmet, alongside many others. I knew that he could see regret in my eyes the day of his execution. He put a hand to my shoulder and told me not to worry; to just make sure it was quick and painless. I did as he asked and on that day, whatever shred of humanity I had, died with that Polish soldier.

XXX

I currently find myself behind the front lines once more. The air is tense around here, with the cover of night doing little to ease the foreboding feeling of dread. We've lost the war already. I know it, and so do my leaders. They are in denial about it. They believe we can still win.

But the more seasoned of us know we can't. There is nothing we could ever do to stop the onslaught of Soviet manufacturing. Skill is all that matters until the enemy can send more people, guns, and vehicles than you have bullets. And the Soviets are no longer unskilled, too.