My dear Marina,
All my friends have died, I have a week's worth of food left, and no one to talk to. The bunker was destroyed in another bombing campaign. Bear was killed when a working bomb hit the top of the dugout, and not even a day later, Sergi was killed by the cold. It's just me here now. I'm getting kind of lonely here. This war's taken a huge toll on everyone, it's now only about half a million Germans, the others either died to exposure, starvation, or gone south. For us, it's hardly 20,000 here, the city is all but rubble, nothing is standing except for the central spire of Saint Basil's cathedral.
I've spent most of my days sitting by the fire, using whatever I could find to feed it. I've made a small house type area, in a desperate attempt to keep myself warm. The only thing I can look towards in this horrid time is the prospect that I can possibly make it back to you. The center dome reminds me of that. Giving me some hope that I can see the shining lights of Stalingrad with you.
There doesn't seem to be an alive human around here, it's all just corpses, snow, mud, and blood. The days have begun to blend into each other, time seems meaningless now, I often catch myself dreaming about you, dreaming of hearing your voice, and seeing you and I getting married at the church on spilled blood, seeing your beautiful smile just one, last, time.
Pray for me to escape this hellhole,
Alexei