Daughters of the Resistance

by Lana Kortchik

  And all Lisa could think of was: who was next? She was afraid for her family, whom she thought about all the time, despite everything. For her older brother, standing up to the Nazis on the Eastern Front. For her younger brother, too cheeky and honest for his own good, and her sister, who was quick to give her heart away and never listened to reason. For her father, the strongest man she knew, lost and broken by war. For Maxim, who left the settlement every morning to fight the greatest evil the world had ever known, fight at any price, even that of his life, and for Masha, who was her closest friend, even though they had met only weeks ago and didn’t have much in common. But most of all, she was afraid for herself.

  Since Lisa had joined the battalion in January, the partisans had completed over a hundred missions. While she cooked and cleaned and sewed, complaining bitterly about the cold and the hunger, they left the woods to detonate, mine and destroy. Three villages had been freed from the Nazi clutches. Hundreds of German soldiers had been killed, and a dozen high-ranking officers. But the partisans had suffered losses too. In the first week of March alone, when the sun shone spring-bright and the snow thawed into small rivulets that ran cheerfully among the trees, three men were shot by the Nazis as they tried to defend the city hall in the village of Belichi. Two more died from their wounds at the hospital under Masha’s caring supervision, following an ambuscade gone wrong. These were the men Lisa had seen in the settlement almost every day but had never spoken to, the men who had eaten her food and waved a friendly greeting as she collected their empty plates.

  The sense of loss she experienced at the deaths of these almost-strangers took even her by surprise. She felt numb and hollow inside, as if she had lost a friend or a loved one. She never asked Masha how she was coping. She didn’t need to. Her friend’s grim face and red-rimmed eyes with dark circles underneath spoke for themselves.

  Now that Anton had left the hospital and resumed his daily partisan activities, going on life-threatening missions with a crutch and a bandage, Anna returned to the dugout and spent her evenings sewing and chatting with the girls under the light of a kerosene lamp. Tonight, however, she looked like she would rather be anywhere else but here because Masha and Lisa were quizzing her about Anton and teasing her mercilessly.

  ‘I’ve known him my whole life. As long as I remember, he was always there. We were childhood sweethearts,’ she finally admitted.

  ‘That’s what I call true love,’ said Masha, patiently stitching a patch over someone’s sleeve.

  ‘Anton says when the war is over we’ll get married. We’ll get a little house in Buki, which is where we grew up, and have children of our own. Doesn’t it sound wonderful? To live somewhere quietly and not have to worry about the enemy bullets or the hunger or anything. I feel a little dizzy every time I think about him. Like I drank a bottle of wine on an empty stomach or something.’

  ‘Have you ever drunk a bottle of wine on an empty stomach?’ asked Lisa. When she thought about Maxim, she felt a little bit like that too. She was dying to share her feelings for him with her two friends. She felt she might burst if she had to keep them to herself a moment longer. But she knew the timing wasn’t right. Sooner or later, everyone would know. She was certain of it.

  ‘I’ve never even tried wine.’

  ‘I’ve never met anyone who’s never tried wine. Even my brother Nikolai had some on New Year’s and he’s a baby.’

  ‘Before the war I was so protected. Mama and Papa never let me go anywhere by myself. All I did was study and practise my piano for hours. All I knew was musical scores and books.’

  ‘What about Anton? Did your parents know about him?’

  ‘They found out eventually but didn’t approve. They thought we were too young to be seeing each other. I had to sneak away in the evenings to meet him. One day Papa caught me. I would have felt better if he shouted and punished me but he just looked at me with disappointment. I’ve never been so ashamed in my life.’

  ‘Did you stop seeing Anton?’

  ‘Of course not. But there were no more lies after that. I would tell Mama and Papa I was going to see him. And they would wait for me in the dining room. No matter what time I returned, they would still be up.’ She sighed sadly and looked down into her hands. ‘At first, we were waiting till we were older to get married. Now we are waiting for the war to end. Don’t you feel like your whole life is on hold?’

  ‘This is our life too. And we must make the most of it. We must find a way to live,’ said Masha.

  ‘How do we do that? I feel so miserable all the time. Cold, hungry, afraid. What kind of life is this?’ demanded Lisa.

  ‘It’s not great. But it might be all we have.’

  *

  When it was time for their next shooting lesson, Lisa waited for Maxim eagerly, like a schoolgirl on her first date. Her red hair was blowing in the wind, free and wild with no kerchief or an ugly hat to hide it from the world. This morning she had begged Anna to let her borrow her jacket and it hugged her figure fetchingly. The snow was finally melting, running in cheerful rivulets among the trees. The mild weather and the promise of summer in the air filled Lisa’s heart with joy. Despite the dirt in her hair that she could never fully get rid of, and the ache of hunger in her stomach, despite the Nazis only a few kilometres away and the rumours of destruction and death that filled her with horror, on this beautiful day Lisa felt reborn, like the forest and the trees and the flowers were reborn in the first flush of spring.

  Her eyes were searching for Maxim but it wasn’t him she saw walking towards their meeting place outside the cafeteria. It was Alex. Lisa’s stomach dropped in disappointment. There had been no more lessons since Maxim had given her the rifle. He was hardly ever at the battalion, and what little time he had he spent at the headquarters, buried in maps with Azamat. This once, she was hoping to be alone with him again.

  Alex waved to Lisa and smiled. She didn’t smile back. He said hello. She mumbled something in return.

  ‘You look nice today. Going somewhere special? A cinema perhaps, or for an ice cream with friends?’ Alex laughed at his own joke while Lisa glared at him. ‘How about after this lesson is over, you and I take a walk in the woods, just the two of us? It’s a lovely day for it. The first day we’ve had this year that isn’t brutally cold. Let’s make the most of it.’ He looked Lisa up and down, unashamedly appraising her slim body. It was as if he was seeing her for the first time.

  Aghast, Lisa opened her mouth to say something sharp in reply. Fortunately, at that moment Maxim stepped out of the headquarters and she forgot all about Alex. She wondered if Maxim noticed her the way Alex did. Did his eyes linger on her? He was cheerful and friendly and shook both their hands. As they set off towards the clearing, Alex walked two steps ahead and seemed to pay no attention to the conversation, which was just as well because Lisa was flirting shamelessly with Maxim. She wanted to believe he was flirting back because his smile was wide on his face when he spoke to her and his eyes sparkled. But he had the same smile and the same sparkle for Masha and for Alex and for Sergei too. If only she could ask him how he felt about her.

  ‘Maxim, such a good Russian name. And yet, you don’t look Russian at all.’

  ‘My father is Mongolian.’

  ‘Like Genghis Khan?’

  He chuckled and nodded, visibly amused. ‘Like Genghis Khan.’

  ‘That explains it. In your veins runs the blood of one of the greatest warriors who has ever lived. No wonder the Nazis are afraid of you. That’s what I’m going to call you from now on. The great Mongolian warrior.’

  ‘You, on the other hand, couldn’t look more Russian. Who do you get your red hair from?’

  ‘My grandmother.’ She blushed and brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes.

  ‘Your green eyes?’

  ‘My grandmother too. When she was young, she was quite the beauty. My grandfather had to fight every man in town for her hand.’

  ‘You must miss your family so muc
h. What do your parents do?’

  ‘Papa was a captain in the militia. He was arrested and taken to a prison camp by the Nazis. We don’t know where he is now or if he’s all right.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

  She shrugged, terrified she would cry in front of him. Was it because she missed her father or because it had been a while since she had talked about her family? ‘Mama is a piano teacher.’

  ‘They must be beside themselves with worry, knowing you are with the partisans.’

  ‘They have no idea I’m here. I haven’t spoken to them in months.’

  ‘What happened?’

  Even though it was the last thing she wanted to talk about, she had to say something because Maxim was watching her with a genuine interest that warmed her heart. ‘I did something terrible and they will never forgive me.’

  ‘Terrible? Why do I find it so hard to believe?’

  ‘My sister and I had a disagreement and my whole family turned against me. They never tried to understand, never even listened to my side of the story …’

  Suddenly she really was crying, and Maxim had his hand around her shoulders, comforting her. ‘They are your family,’ he said. ‘And there’s nothing more important in the world than family. Whatever differences you’ve had in the past don’t matter anymore. Especially now that it’s war.’ She leant into him and inhaled, trying to catch his scent. More than anything she wanted to lift her face and kiss him. ‘My family means the world to me,’ he continued. ‘My parents, my wi—’

  ‘Hey, boss,’ said Alex, turning around. ‘Do you have any tobacco? I’m all out.’

  ‘Sorry. I don’t smoke.’ Maxim moved away from Lisa.

  ‘Who should I ask? I’m desperate.’

  ‘For all the gold in the world you won’t find tobacco at the battalion right now. The men are ready to sell their souls for a few grams.’

  ‘That’s too bad. I can fight on an empty stomach but I can’t live without my smokes. I’d rather chop my hands off.’

  ‘Can’t hold that rifle without your hands, soldier,’ said Maxim, winking at Lisa, who was still wiping her tears but whose heart was soaring with hope. She didn’t care if Alex knew how she felt about Maxim. She didn’t care if the whole battalion knew. She wanted to climb to the top of the highest pine tree and shout his name for the whole world to hear.

  *

  It was late and the work in the kitchen was done. Sore and exhausted, her back and neck aching, her eyes red from the smoke, Lisa fell into a chair, relishing a rare moment of stillness. Since she had joined the partisan battalion, she hardly ever got a chance to be still. She was always moving, her feet trudging, her hands scrubbing, peeling, cutting or stirring. No wonder she always felt faint and out of breath.

  The cafeteria filled with people, mostly men, but she could see a few women here and there, laughing and chatting. The partisans were carefree like only those who risked their lives and made it safely through the day could be carefree. Lisa tried to look relaxed, waving to Masha, motioning for her to join her, pouring some of her tea into another cup and offering it to her, while her gaze searched the room for Maxim. He wasn’t difficult to spot. In a room full of people, he was a head taller than everybody else, his shoulders broader, his hair darker, his laughter louder. The others were nothing but greyscale figures on an old and faded black-and-white photograph, while he was vivid and bright. Lisa couldn’t possibly continue staring at him or Masha was bound to notice. Reluctantly she turned away but every now and then she glanced in his direction and her heart melted at the sight of him.

  As his friends nudged him on, Maxim picked up a guitar and everyone fell silent. Now all eyes were on him and Lisa didn’t have to hide anymore; she could watch him openly. He touched the chords gently, lovingly, and when he sang, his voice was deep and sensual, unlike any Lisa had ever heard before.

  I loved you, and I probably still do,

  And for a while the feeling may remain …

  But let my love no longer trouble you,

  I do not wish to cause you any pain.

  As he sang the popular war tune, Lisa felt tears fill her eyes. It was as if Maxim serenaded her and her alone. She no longer felt like an outsider. She knew that she was right where she needed to be, that for better or worse this partisan battalion was where she belonged. Her fingers found the rifle she kept under the table. She touched the cold metal of the barrel and smiled. His present was like a special link between them, a secret the two of them shared.

  ‘What are you grinning about?’ asked Masha, her eyes focusing on her friend.

  ‘I’m not grinning,’ replied Lisa, still smiling but making a conscious effort to avoid glancing in Maxim’s direction.

  ‘You are lit up like a kerosene lamp. What is going on?’

  ‘Nothing. Just remembered something.’

  ‘What? Come on, tell me. I could do with some cheering up.’

  Lisa was thinking of a suitable lie to tell her friend when the woods shook with an explosion. Startled, she dropped her cup and it rolled under the table, the tea spilling over her trousers. ‘What was that?’ she cried. Before anyone had a chance to reply, another explosion burst overhead.

  ‘It’s only the Germans,’ said Yulya, who was sitting next to Danilo at a nearby table. ‘Don’t worry, it’s nowhere near us. It just sounds close because it’s so loud.’

  ‘Only the Germans?’ repeated Lisa, dumbstruck and shaking. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been through bombings before. Kiev had been bombed for three months before the Nazis entered the city. With the amount of shelling it had endured, it was surprising any of it was left standing. But here in the woods, she thought she was safe, from bombings at least. The whole point of being here was that the Germans didn’t know where they were. The explosion felt intrusive, threatening the order of things.

  ‘We are at war – or did you forget?’ said Yulya.

  How Lisa wished she could forget. And in these woods, hidden from the world, sometimes it was an easy thing to do. Except, wounded partisans kept coming back from their missions and Masha was run off her feet in her makeshift hospital. Except, the hunger never went away. Except, Maxim left every morning and Lisa watched the road all day long, praying he would come back safely. ‘Why are they firing? Who are they firing at?’

  ‘They are firing at the woods because they know that’s where we are hiding. They don’t know our exact location or they would be here in an instant. And you know what they say. When a dog can’t bite, it barks.’

  ‘That’s one dog whose bite is as bad as its bark.’

  ‘Only if they find us.’

  Lisa wondered whether it was a question of when, not if. How deep were the woods around Kiev? Deep enough to hide a large group of people indefinitely? Even a broken clock was right twice a day. What if the Nazis stumbled upon them?

  The other partisans didn’t seem concerned. When the shelling quietened down, the laughter and the cheerful voices resumed. Maxim strummed his guitar. Someone else started singing, as if what had happened was nothing out of the ordinary. And perhaps for them it wasn’t. Perhaps if they worried about every bullet and every bomb, they would never leave their dugouts, and so they had become desensitised to it. They must have been cut from a different cloth because, even if Lisa lived in the woods for a hundred years, even if she spent a thousand years under the German fire, she would still be afraid.

  She wished the man who was singing would stop. One, he was extremely bad at it. Her ears were hurting as much from his singing as from the sudden explosions. And two, she wanted to hear Maxim’s breath-taking voice again. But when the man fell quiet, she heard shouting outside. Two gunshots followed.

  Grabbing their weapons, everyone rushed towards the exit. When Lisa stepped out, she saw a group of partisans led by Azamat, surrounding a man with his hands bound behind his back. He was short and square, dressed in a German uniform, with the face of a pig – pink, round, with tiny eyes and a large sno
ut of a nose. Alex and Sergei were holding him up by his shoulders. Danilo was waving a torch over the man’s head, as if determined to set him on fire.

  ‘If you try to run one more time, I will shoot,’ said Azamat. ‘And this time I will be aiming for you, not the trees behind you.’

  The man cowered away from him. If two pairs of hands weren’t gripping him tight, he would have slumped to the ground.

  ‘German?’ demanded Maxim, approaching the little group.

  ‘Ukrainian,’ replied Azamat.

  ‘A policeman!’ exclaimed Danilo. ‘Tie him to a tree and kill him.’

  ‘No, please. I’ll do anything. I know things. I know the Nazis’ movements. Please, comrades. I’ll tell you everything,’ pleaded the man, abruptly springing to life.

  ‘We are no comrades to you,’ barked Danilo.

  Azamat gave the traitor a push and he fell into a puddle of melting snow, looking up at them with his pig eyes and pressing his bound hands to his chest. ‘Comrades, I swear, I can be useful to you. I will wash away the shame of what I’ve done by helping you fight the enemy. Please, allow me to join you.’

  ‘Nothing will wash away the shame of what you’ve done,’ someone shouted.

  ‘Please, believe me! I’m prepared to give my life for the motherland.’

  ‘You don’t know the meaning of the word. First chance you get, you’ll be running off to the Germans.’ Maxim spat on the ground in anger and turned away from the traitor, as if merely looking at his face offended him.

  ‘I swear I won’t. Please, can I have some water? I’m dying of thirst. And something to eat.’