Alekzandr draft

"Is that coffee?" Josef inquired, visibly shaking. "No, it is water and dirt." Nikolai said, staring at the dying embers in the middle of the foxhole. "Dirt in water does not steam, that is coffee." Josef countered. Nikolai turned his gaze to the moonless sky, taking in the incredible amount of stars in the sky. "Hurry up and drink the coffee, the steam will attract people to us." Josef said.

Josef had gotten more paranoid than he already was, Niko thought. Ever since the first battle of the Marusian Lakes, during a patrol in the forest, two weeks ago, just west of Sweita Lipka, Josef came back, went to his cot and just huddled there for hours, even missing dinner for the troops. Last week the whole battalion awoke to the sound of screaming and gunshots coming from nearby. Thinking it was the Germans storming across No-Man's land, the battalion took to the trenches, manned the machine guns and artillery, only to look out onto an empty, pockmarked 300 meter killing field.

"Josef is missing." Sergeant Boris muttered.

Boris and Nikolai sprinted to the cot that Josef sleeps at, only to find it completely deserted. His gun was gone, ammo crate open and contents gone; on the dirt floor was a stripper clip and 4 7.62x54 mmR shells still hot from recently being discharged.


Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License