When I came back home to Leningrad from the war there wasn’t any particular thought on my mind, I continued in the same daze I had since getting on the train.
Everywhere looked so different and I wondered why it felt so wrong even though I was sure it hadn’t changed.
The people felt like spectres as I passed them and they ignored each other.
And then there was the question on everyone’s lips-
“Oh you were in the army, where did you serve?”
“Brother what did you do in the army?”
“Boy where did you serve your time?”
And then there was the “God will judge you for what you have done.” To which was followed up by spitting on my face.
My answer was different for each time.
“Da sister I worked in communications.”
“In the headquarters as a clerk Mama.”
“As a tank mechanic my friend.”
But my words could never cover the way my hair had turned grey.
It wasn’t before long that I grew dissatisfied with how feeble and soft the people of the city were and I missed my comrades.
This led to where I was now, riding with a convoy back to the army headquarters.
“You- why is your hair grey?” one of the many men packed into the back of the truck asked me.
“It’s not your concern” I replied, returning my mind to a dull place as I inhaled my cigarette.
The truck rocked and bucked every so often as it drove through potholes in the road from the lack of repairs while the war raged, when the truck did bounce we all went up and came down with it. Those young who were unburdened with the reality of what they would see laughed and joked, pride in themselves and their duty to the motherland holding their spirits high.
Despite their bright faces and joyous tones they could not hope to comprehend the horrors ahead, but it was the only place I felt I had a purpose, on a battlefield shooting and taking orders to do that which seemed inhumane at first.
But now I see that what we did was nothing short of a mercy.
“Can I have one comrade?” A voice from my right asked, when I turned I saw a man just like me.
Worn and grey, but young, he motioned to my cigarettes and I nodded, tapping the carton flicking one out and passing it to him. Offering a light he accepted it and we smoked in silence.
Had I known then what I know now, I might just have smoked another cigarette with what time I had left.
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When I opened my eyes I stood in an open field that glimmered bright green and smelt of damp grass, my kit weighed heavily on my shoulders as I stood idly with my hand on the pistol grip of my gun as it hung from my shoulder.
The place was unlike anything I had seen back home, the temperature was warm, but not uncomfortable. My mind swam as it attempted to understand what had happened, but I failed to make it past the sound of an explosion- a mortar or rpg round it mattered little.
Breathing a sigh I reached into my jacket pocket and retrieved the packet of cigarettes and placed one in my mouth before lighting it, hoping the high of nicotine would clear my thoughts and help me see straight.
Blowing smoke into the wind I stepped forward, the soft sound of my combat boots squashing grass barely registering as I walked toward the direction I arrived looking in.
The click and clack of my magazines moving on my chest proved to still some of the wariness in my heart as I gazed around the plains, the bright sun overhead was intense as my march went on. I walked and walked for nearly three hours coming to a stop when my eyes laid upon the wretched slaughter of what seemed to be a village, there were blood soaked bodies of men, women and children strewn about with the care of beasts in feast.
The crest I stood on as I looked over the sight sloped down into a river between myself and the remains of the torched and tortured place, it didn’t look anything like the crumbled stone and blown out steel I was used to.
In the gore as I crossed the river with little effort I found silence, silence which sent a shiver down my spine.
There was dissonance within my vision, the great beautiful light of the sun and the twisted site of bloody battle.
The weapons thrown about were knives, pitchforks, buckets, shovels and swords that had been snapped.
For whatever reason I found no trace of their attackers.
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It was as though ghosts had taken the place apart and left.
Breathing a sigh of smoke I kept my hand on my rifle as I walked around the ruins looking for any sign of life that might have survived the attack, thankfully my years of stalking urban ruins gave me a leg up in this race allowing me to find something after a short while.
I found a trail of somewhat fresh blood trailing into a collapsed building, there were hand prints marked out where the owner of the blood struggled to drag themselves into it.
Standing outside the door frame of the building I knocked on it and called out “Hello? I’m a friend, the attackers are gone.”
Listening in I could make out the hitch of someone’s breath making me raise a brow.
“I am Illya, I mean no harm friend, I promise.” Kneeling down by the frame I attempted to look under the shattered roof blocking the way.
In the dark space tucked away was the form of a young girl, she was pale as snow and had hair the same colour, her eyes were a plum red. She wore a muddy white dress coated in muck and blood, fearful eyes sparking with terror as she caught sight of my visage.
“Zdravstvuyte Little one, we are alone, you are safe.” I said hoping she would get my point.
When she seemed too terrified to move I reached into my thigh pouch and pulled out one of the ration bars I’d stuffed in it when we went out on patrol, it wasn’t much in the way of taste, but it was food all the same.
Showing off the food almost completely changed her demeanour as she quickly struggled out from the dark into the light grabbing for the snack and ripping it from my hands with vicious ferocity and far more strength than I’d expected from such a thin girl. Though she barely came into the light before returning to the dark again to eat.
I took a seat laying my pack down and moving my rifle over my back.
“What is your name? As I said, my name is Illya.” I asked and the ghostly girl barely looked up from her meal going so far as to pick the crumbs up that dropped on the dirt and blood.
Silence permeated as she finished the food and stared at me for some time before finally speaking, her words sounded crude and harsh as though her throat had been crushed-
“Sv- Sveta…” She answered before coughing harshly, spitting a ball of blood onto the ground and wiping her mouth with her arm causing a red smear across her forearm.
“Sveta?” I repeated and the girl nodded her head. “Are there any other villages or towns near this one I could take you to?”
This place I’d ended up didn’t seem familiar but back home there were always villages close enough to each other you could imagine knowing about them.
That was, I suppose, before we moved to Leningrad before the war broke out.
In any case the girl shook her head and I felt a sigh leave me unconsciously.
“Do you know of any other places nearby, maybe where some other family are?” My question received the same response.
I can’t exactly drag a child along with me… for all I know my squad is around here somewhere as well, there were a lot of us caught in that explosion… wherever this is- they could be here with me.
My thoughts wandered for a moment as I watched the girl tentatively come out of the dark again only to wince in pain and return to it, this caused a frown to cover my face and I moved my pack to retrieve a camo coat and offered it to her.
The coat was Maksym’s though I doubt he would kick fuss about shielding a child from harm with it.
Sveta nearly leapt into the shadow of the clothing as the oversized garment covered her like a cloak when she stood with it casting a dark shadow around her pale body and hair.
I barked a sordid harsh laugh at the sight of the girl in my friends coat, images of my time in war with him lapping with the visage of her standing there. It was a harsh reminder of why I had gone back after finally coming home safe, if wounded at the time, so I knew my brothers and friends were not facing the horrors alone.
If there was one thing to be said, I hoped any of them who ended up here with me would find peace away from it all finally.
My eyes tracked the girl as she found a sense of freedom and energy now shaded from the light beginning to move around me in excitement almost completely unfazed by the sights of death and horror that decorated her home. The only indication I saw was the flicker in her red eyes that seemed to register the sight choosing to ignore it and she turned to me wearing a blood stained smile from the smudge on her face where she had wiped it.
“Sveta, you are still hungry yes?” I asked and the pale girl wordlessly nodded her head as she stopped moving about and quickly became part of my shadow as though she knew what I was about to say. “I will search for more to eat, and then we will find some place for you to live a better life.”
Her small hands tightly gripped on the fabric of my pants and she walked with me as I trudged back through the remains of the village stopping to make her wait away from the most gruesome of the murders when they blocked my entry into a home. She may have been scarred already, but I would not cause it further.
No child deserved to see such things, no man either, but we do not all understand the implications of our choices.