Lyudmila Pavlichenko

The heat from the sun beats harshly down on the group of whispering soldiers marching in the woods. They pant, stopping occasionally to catch their breath then jog back up to find their place in the crowd. The thick trees were big enough to cast a shadow on the men but weren't strong enough to save them from the heat. Beads of sweat dotted each man's dirt-stained face. They had gotten up at dawn that morning after only sleeping for three or so hours. They had spent an hour packing up camp to move east toward Ukraine. For over seven hours they marched on. Their many shifting bags sounded foreign among the trees and rustling leaves. They were half drunk on whiskey, all suffering from a hangover but not showing it. Some quietly spoke of random things. Others only stayed quiet focusing on the pain in their heads and legs. A relatively short man close to the back of the line stopped and placed his large bag on the branch covered ground. He let out a grunt. The bag produced a large cracking sound as it snapped the twigs underneath. He placed his hands on his knees and fell into a squat in front of the carrier while letting a sigh escape his chapped lips. He unzipped a pocket on the side and pulled out an old leather padded canteen. He put it up to his lips and took a sizeable gulp letting the refreshing drink cool his dry throat. As he drank, a few of the soldiers passing would give a light pat on his shoulder, leaving him behind. He swished the water around in his mouth before swallowing it. He took off his fabric hat and ran his warn fingers through his wet hair. He shook his head side to side letting the small droplets fly off. He then fixed his cap back on snug making sure the swastika insignia was facing straight. He threw his bag over his shoulder with a huff, fixing the strap around his waist. He jogged forward past the men who had previously greeted him and found his place back behind the second tallest man among his squad. He walked with a heavy step, swinging side to side slightly after each stride. The rocking motion brought a hypnotizing state on to the man behind him.

As they continued to walk, he became lost in thought. He thought of his wife back when she would lay with him when he was exhausted from work. He loved when she would pet his head as he dozed off into a peaceful slumber. The way her walnut hair framed her face and the way her eyes sparkled like glass fish bowls, always catching him off guard. Every time she looked at him he would fall in love with her all over again. Suddenly his good memories were replaced with bad. He saw her delicate hand motionless, covered in a ruby-colored residue. Her silk nightgown stuck to her skin as it was wet from the blood spilling from her stomach. He saw the dark figure rummaging through cabinets and drawers as she laid on the floor, dead. He watched at the end of the hallway as the intruder stepped over her bleeding body to get to another shelf. He seethed with anger. He felt a force on his left.

"Wagner!" sir Hoffman said standing next to him with his palm placed on his shoulder.

Wagner snapped out of it. Only then realizing how tight he was clenching his fist. His fingers were buttermilk white.

"You ok? You're looking a bit heated" he questioned glancing down at his now relaxed fist.

Wagner let out a sigh, letting his anger fade from his mind. He shook his head slowly letting his hands find their way over his mouth.

"Yeah yeah," he mumbled. He swung his hands backward and brought them back again clasping them together on impact.

"Yeah, I'm good," he said with a little more confidence. Hoffman noticed his past discomfort and thought to change the subject. He adjusted his rifle slung across his dark uniform while going through his mind for a good conversation starter. Wagner didn't know him very well but he knew he was quite a bit younger than him. Around 18 he guessed. It was hard to tell for sure because of all the dirt that painted his face. His eyes were young though. You could see that he didn't have as much experience in the division.