A Short Stroy

[beanmachine43]

 

I decided to share this with you guys, as I had some spare time tonight. Please tell me what you think of it. It's based on a Russian sniper in the German invasion of Stalingrad. I originally intended to write the ending first, then write the rest of the story later. But since I do have a fanfic already underway,  I just felt I didn't have the time to finish this. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it enough to comment on it.

 

 

I lay under the mask of the night sky, concealed from enemy sharpshooters as a mere silhouette in the shadows. The city of Stalingrad is under siege, and I, Nikolai Naberezhnyi, have been selected as recon man for any advances of German forces.

 

It’s sometime in June, but I’ve been away from home so long that I’ve lost track of the date and only know it’s 1941. I was handpicked by Simo Häyhä from a Finnish village and trained by the man himself. When the war broke out, however, I was captured by Russian troops and thrown into Red Army training. Finland and Russia had declared war and we were on opposing sides. Then through the peace, I finally met him one last time before he was brought to a hospital to treat his wounds. I will never forget the adrenaline rushing through my veins as I knew that Simo was somewhere out there, waiting for me to make a single mistake. Now I was left, with a count of thirty seven Nazis.

 

Hidden on top of a single story building, I shiver as a chilly wind blows in from the west, careful not to give away my position by my steaming breath. Then, the tiniest clatter is heard down the street. I grab my Mosin-Nagant, positioning the barrel through a brick that I removed specifically for this purpose.

 

I search through my iron scope, heart racing as I frantically try to find the source of the noise. Down the road I do find it; three German soldiers are sprinting down the road, probably rushing back to HQ.

 

Lining up my sights, I calmly select my first target. The straggler is always the first to die in war, and now was no different. After satisfied with selecting the bottom of his skull, I squeeze off a single round. He instantly drops, lifelessly falling to the ground.

 

“One.”

 

Again, I line up my sights and take a deep breath.

 

“Two.”

 

The German does not fall immediately. Instead, he staggers, clutching his shoulder; I missed. Tightening my grip on the rifle, I squeeze the trigger again, this time the soldier drops silently.

 

The final Nazi remains, giving off a bloody howl for help. As I take the final shot, another noise is heard across the street, on the rooftop.

 

I roll onto my back, barely avoiding a ricocheting bullet that hits the street lamp above. It’s clear that I was not the sole snipe on this battlefield. Gripping my shoulder, I realize that I was in fact hit, if only the slightest grazing. Instead of reaching for my medical supplies, I decide to tough it out. The opposing sniper is clearly determine to end my life. I slowly reach for my rifle, which was now leaning against the metal railing above the small brick wall.

 

I knew it was going to happen, and it did. The rifle’s frame is shattered as it comes back to its owner; the German destroyed my Nagant. Taking deep breaths, I try to come up with a plan. Eying the railing above me, I’m finally able to execute my plan.

 

Grabbing the butt of my rifle, I take my helmet that fell off from the dodging of the bullet. Placing it on the end of the butt, I slowly raise it over the railing in an attempt to lure the sniper.

 

It works.

 

A loud ping rings through air, the helmet spinning several times before slowing to a stop. I cautiously let the rifle slip from my hands, trying to make my death believable as possible. After hanging on my the last thread of the strap, I let go, letting it fall to the street.

 

The enemy sniper rises from his position, knowing he was the victor. As he leans over the railing to confirm the kill, I pull out a submachine gun stashed in my backpack. I aim over the railing, not able or willing to poke my head out to aim. I fire and fire, until the clip is empty.

 

I take the risk and see if I got the kill. The limp body of the German hangs over the railing, inches from falling to the sidewalk. I try to let off a small cheer, but hear nothing. I look over to the wound on my shoulder, only to find that it wasn’t my shoulder that was hit. I run my gloved hand over the side of my neck and skull; my cerebellum was hit.

 

Feeling the control of my body being lost, I grasp the edge of the metal railing. My vision blurs, the sharp edges of Stalingrad slowly blurring and fading from view.

 

Then a shot pierces the night sky. I take a look down at my chest; through the heart. I inhale one last time; not even with Simo watching am I invincible. I can feel his scorn through the shapeless clouds, ashamed that a student of his of being so blind. My body crumbles to the ground, leaving an empty shell of a soldier who once knew of what honor, pride, and loyalty. Instead, left with Red Army propaganda and false patriotism.

 

[silvermanblue]

Cool

[discovery97]

I LOVE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No really I'm a huge fan of world war 2. I like the americans of course but now I'm starting to like the germans so I can't rate it 100% unless the sniper was german but I give it 98% because I like the russians as well. I'm not much of a writer and more of a want-to-be movie film-maker and I want to make a movie about a german infantry unit but all these books talk about the Americans and their japanese victory. I'm also gonna get the Medal of Honor airborne which would show how much I love world war two.

 

 

Anyways can you or somebody else write a story about a german in world war 2?

Please and a huge thanks.