Daughters of the Resistance

by Lana Kortchik

  Still, what happened was between Zina and Irina. She shouldn’t have said anything to Maxim. He didn’t deserve it. Zina was his mother. Nothing could change that. What if the situation was reversed? What if Irina’s mother was still alive and Maxim said something bad about her? Irina would be devastated. She’d feel torn between her mother and the man she loved. Is that how he felt now? Like he had to make a choice?

  In the yellow light of the moon outside, she could see him clearly, lying on his back, his eyes closed. She didn’t care if he recoiled from her. She needed him. And she knew he needed her. Careful not to wake their daughter, she crawled over to him and cradled his head, kissing his forehead. By the way his breathing changed, she knew he was awake. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  His arms went around her and he pulled her to him. ‘I’m sorry too. Please, don’t cry.’ His lips were on her wet cheeks, on her trembling lips.

  ‘I didn’t mean anything I said.’

  ‘I know. You are just hurting. We all are. It’s all too much for one person to bear.’

  ‘I shouldn’t have said all those terrible things.’

  ‘It’s forgotten. I’m always here for you; you know that, don’t you? Even when I’m far away. I never stop thinking of you and Sonya.’

  ‘And I never stop thinking of you. I know Zina is your mother and you love her. I don’t want you to have to choose between us. I’ll do my best to get along with her. I’ll try harder, I promise.’

  ‘Mama can be harsh sometimes but she means well. I’ll have a word with her. It will be all right.’ He fell quiet for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. ‘About the other thing. I’m not like your father. You are the only one for me. I don’t want anyone else. You do know that, don’t you?’

  ‘I know. It’s so difficult here without you, day after day. And the baby …’

  ‘We’ll have another baby. As soon as the war is over, we’ll have another baby.’

  ‘It feels like it will never be over. Kharkov is in German hands again. I heard at work today.’ Kharkov was a beautiful green city five hundred kilometres from Kiev, where Irina’s mother had lived when she was younger. Having spent many summers visiting her maternal grandparents in Kharkov, Irina had many wonderful childhood memories of the place and loved it dearly. She rejoiced when the Soviets had retaken it from the Nazis only weeks previously. Unfortunately, they didn’t hold it for long.

  ‘It will be over sooner than you think.’

  Irina tried to imagine life after the war and couldn’t. The vision eluded her like an early-morning dream. ‘But what if …’ She hesitated.

  ‘What?’ He prodded her in the dark.

  ‘What if we don’t make it?’ Every day she saw death on the streets of Kiev. To survive another day, let alone months or years, however long it took for the war to end, would require a miracle.

  ‘We’ll make it. God has a plan for those who are good and who believe in Him. He will protect us.’

  Irina wanted to tell him that her mother had been a good person too. She had believed in God and loved everyone around her. She had been kind and helped those in need, whether it was a neighbour’s child who needed clothing or a stray cat that was cold and starving. If God couldn’t give Irina’s mother the strength to live after her husband had left, how could he protect Irina and Maxim in war?

  *

  Before he left the next morning, Maxim embraced Irina and said, ‘I don’t believe in many things in life. But I believe in you. And that’s what I’m fighting for. To give you and Sonya a better future.’

  Her heart aching, she watched him walk away from her again. She had never felt more ashamed. Maxim believed in her and yet, she couldn’t find it in her heart to believe in him. She’d allowed insensitive words from a gossipy old woman to sow distrust in her heart. Never again, she promised to herself. I know what we have. I will never doubt him again.

  All too soon, the truck arrived. Maxim hugged her goodbye, and then leapt inside. ‘Take care of yourself and Sonya.’ She heard his voice, muted by the noise of the engine, barely audible, as if he was already slipping away from her. The truck started moving and Irina wanted to shout, to wave her hands, to beg it to stop, so she could have another minute, another moment in time with her husband. But all too soon the truck was gone, disappearing around the corner, while she remained motionless on the spot, looking at the road, at the buildings destroyed by fire, at a group of grim-faced Soviets ambling past.

  At home she sat at the kitchen table and didn’t move, while Sonya played with building blocks by her feet. The front door opened and footsteps resounded in the corridor but Irina didn’t look up. Only when she heard Zina’s voice did she turn around.

  ‘Maxim told me what happened. I just wanted to say how sorry I am.’

  What a hypocrite, thought Irina. Zina had wanted this baby gone. She had made it clear from the start. And now she’d got her wish. She must be overjoyed.

  But Zina didn’t look overjoyed. She looked old and weary. There was none of the usual angry gleam in her eyes and no condescending smirk on her face. Irina could swear the woman had been crying. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen her strong and authoritative mother-in-law cry. It frightened her a little.

  ‘I was able to get some sour cream in the village,’ said Zina, placing her hand on Irina’s. Another anomaly. In all the years Irina had lived here, her mother-in-law had never reached out and touched her. Zina added, ‘It’s not much but enough for you and Sonya for dinner tonight.’

  Suddenly and inexplicably, the formidable foe Irina had come to fear and loathe so much had turned into a frail old woman, harmless and distressed. ‘Why don’t you have some?’ asked Irina. Zina looked like she needed some sour cream herself, so thin had she become in the recent months.

  ‘Absolutely not. I won’t hear of it. You are a nursing mother. You need it.’

  Irina couldn’t take the expression on Zina’s face. There was pity and heartbreak and something else, too, something Irina had never seen before. It almost looked like compassion. Quietly, affectionately, Zina said, ‘My mother, God rest her soul, had half a dozen miscarriages. It didn’t stop her from having five children. Don’t despair. You are still so young. Plenty of time to have another baby.’

  The knot of tension Irina had carried inside her for the last few weeks melted a little. ‘Why don’t we share the sour cream?’

  ‘All right,’ said Zina, producing the sour cream from a basket and scooping up a tiny bit on a teaspoon, just enough to place on the tip of her tongue. ‘That’s it. The rest is for you and Sonya. I insist.’

  ‘Thank you,’ whispered Irina. This unexpected act of kindness from someone who had never shown her any in the past affected her so much, she was afraid she would break down in front of the older woman. For the first time in her life, she felt something resembling warmth towards Zina. The feeling was so new and unfamiliar, she sat in silence for a moment, contemplating it.

  ‘Earlier this morning I saw you lifting Sonya by her arms and swinging her in the air. You shouldn’t do that again. She’s still so little, her joints are fragile. You can really hurt her, you know,’ said Zina, placing the dirty spoon in the sink.

  And just like that, the warmth was gone. But the hope remained that, one day, the two of them could learn to tolerate one another, if only for Maxim’s sake.

  April 1943

  Chapter 13

  Shivering under the rain, Lisa waited for the morning assembly to begin. She didn’t attend the assembly every day but today she had two reasons to be there. One, she needed a break from the kitchen. Yulya was in a particularly foul mood that morning. Lisa saw Danilo run for his life after a brief encounter with his wife, and decided to follow his lead.

  But the second and main reason Lisa stood with the rest of the partisans in the rain was because she was hoping to catch a glimpse of Maxim. He’d been away on an important mission and she hadn’t seen him for a few
days. She needed to lay her eyes on him to make sure he was safe.

  Next to her was Masha, who in the last few weeks had lost so much weight, she no longer reminded Lisa of a round, blonde, rosy-cheeked bun. She was waving her arms and talking a little too loudly for the public place. ‘Leo was brought in yesterday, with a gunshot wound. All I can do is change his bandage. I have nothing for the pain, nothing to control the infection. He keeps crying for something to take the pain away. I wish I had some vodka to give him but even that is gone.’ She pulled Lisa by the sleeve of her drab jacket. ‘Are you listening to me? You seem a million miles away. What are you looking at?’ She followed Lisa’s gaze. Maxim was walking towards the clearing.

  ‘I’m listening,’ said Lisa, regretfully tearing her gaze away from Maxim. ‘There isn’t any vodka at the battalion. Probably a good thing too. We don’t want the partisans getting drunk and making mistakes. Many men here had a problem with alcohol. Not anymore. This place cured them.’ Masha was still staring at her without saying a word. ‘What? Why are you looking at me like this? Maxim told me.’

  ‘Well, if Maxim told you …’ replied Masha slowly. Both girls watched Maxim for a moment as he stopped in front of the partisans and exchanged a few words with Azamat. ‘He’s quite handsome, isn’t he?’

  ‘I don’t know. I haven’t noticed.’ The lie slipped off Lisa’s tongue effortlessly. She didn’t even blush.

  ‘Of course you haven’t.’

  Through the streaks of rain Masha’s face looked mischievous and teasing. Did she suspect something? Did everyone suspect? Were people talking? Lisa didn’t have much time to contemplate how she felt about the battalion gossiping about her because the partisans fell quiet. Maxim was speaking. ‘The Nazis are bringing more troops into Kiev today. Thanks to Matvei, we know where and we know when.’ All eyes turned towards the traitor, who no longer wore the German uniform but a Red Army one, though he was still followed by two partisans at all times. Maxim continued, ‘Our goal is to stop them. We have identified ten locations perfect for an ambuscade. We will need all hands on deck for today’s mission.’

  Lisa felt a panic rise inside her, the likes of which she had never experienced before. This was what she had been preparing for all along when she was learning to shoot in the woods alone with Maxim. The rifle he had given her all those months ago was not a toy or a sentimental token of his affection. It had a purpose. It had meaning. Was she ready? Was she brave enough? Suddenly she wished she had stayed in the kitchen where she belonged, even if it meant enduring Yulya’s grumbling.

  To Lisa’s horror, Masha raised her hand and declared she wanted to join the partisans. ‘I’m sure my patients can spare me for a few hours.’

  ‘Are you out of your mind? Why are you volunteering for this?’ hissed Lisa, pinching her elbow as hard as she could.

  ‘I feel like I should be doing more. I want to make a difference.’

  ‘You’re already doing so much. Without you the wounded would have no chance. You want to go out and shoot the Germans? I thought you said you could never kill anyone. You don’t even know how to shoot.’

  ‘Not shoot the Germans, but help our people if they get wounded. By the time they bring them here, it’s too late. I should be out there with them, tending to them right away. The nurse before me went into battle with them, carried them from under the enemy fire, bandaged them on the snow.’

  ‘Yes, and where did it get her?’

  ‘I can’t sit here, doing nothing.’

  ‘You can hardly call what you do nothing. If you go with them, you could get yourself killed.’

  ‘This is not the time to think about myself.’

  ‘What’s gotten into you? I don’t understand you at all.’

  Masha leant closer to Lisa and whispered in her ear, ‘No, I don’t understand you. Why are you even learning how to shoot? Is it just so you can spend time with him?’

  Before Lisa had a chance to reply, Masha stormed back towards their dugout.

  As Lisa ambled after her friend, she looked at the beauty around her. The grass glistened in the rain, emerald green and abundant. The trees reached for the sky that was a particularly brilliant blue that morning. Would she ever see it again? The raindrops landed on her face, running under her clothes and sending shivers through her skin. Would she ever feel it again? If she picked up her rifle and followed the others to war, would she make it back alive?

  *

  Because Matvei had indicated ten locations where the Nazi troops would pass, Maxim divided the partisans into ten groups. Normally, Lisa would be overjoyed to find herself in the same group with him. But, as she sleepwalked after the men on unsteady legs, she had to hold her breath and squeeze her fists tight to stop the tears from coming. No one could see her cry. It would be mortifying, she thought as she wiped her damp cheeks with the back of her hand and tried hard not to fall down, her rifle dragging behind her like an unwelcome reminder that death was waiting for them at their destination. It felt like she was walking to her own execution. When she looked up, she saw Maxim marching ahead, grim, silent and determined. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t lose his footing, as if they were on a pleasure excursion and not a mission that could cost them their lives.

  While they were in the forest, the men spoke in soft voices.

  ‘We should be careful. The Germans patrol this area at all times.’

  ‘We need to be fast. In and out, or we’re in trouble.’

  ‘Are you sure you know where you’re going, boss?’ asked Alex. How did he always manage to position himself so close to Lisa? She was getting tired of his never-ending invitations for a walk in the woods together. Why couldn’t Maxim ask her instead?

  ‘I don’t, but he does.’ Maxim nodded at Bear, who was running in front of them and sniffing the ground.

  ‘After all this time in the woods, I still can’t find my way around,’ said Alex. ‘I feel like I’m in the ocean. Everything looks the same and no matter how hard I try I can’t see the land. It would be different in the open fields where you can stand up and see everything.’

  ‘Yes, and everyone can see you. Including the enemy.’

  Soon, Lisa stopped listening to them, the terrible thoughts inside her head becoming louder. She imagined German machine guns pointing at her and Maxim, bullets flying, the trees around them burning. Was it her fear talking? Or was it a premonition? The ground under her feet was wet and slippery. She concentrated on walking, on putting one foot in front of the other carefully and methodically, but the horrifying images didn’t go away.

  After an hour of walking, Maxim consulted his map and announced they were there. He told everyone to find a partner and climb one of the many tall trees overlooking the road. Lisa was glad she was close to him instead of at the tail of the procession. She pushed Alex out of the way and said to Maxim, ‘Can you be my partner? It’s my first time. I feel a little nervous. It would be good to have my teacher next to me.’

  ‘Of course,’ he replied. ‘And don’t worry. It’s not my first time but I’m nervous too. Everybody gets nervous.’

  When Lisa looked around, the clearing was already deserted, as if a large group of partisans hadn’t been there only moments ago. Even though she knew her comrades were hidden in the nearby trees, she couldn’t spot them, nor could she hear their voices. It was as if she and Maxim were alone in the woods once again. Cheeks burning and hands shaking, she followed Maxim to a tall pine tree and climbed after him. To make it easier for her, he carried both their rifles, leaving Lisa with her tiny rucksack. ‘Thank you,’ she said when she was perched next to him. ‘What do we do now?’ The evergreen branches hid them completely, while the road was in full view in front of them. Maxim was so close, if she reached out, she could touch his leg. She tried to keep her hands steady on her rifle instead.

  ‘Now we wait. I told you, that’s ninety per cent of what we do. And sometimes it’s the hardest part.’

  After half an hour of staring at the empt
y road, Lisa’s eyes watered from the wind and her back became stiff. She could feel sharp needles in her legs, a sure sign a cramp was coming. She moved her feet slightly and winced. Nothing could possibly be as bad as this – waiting for the lightning to strike. The anticipation of something horrible made her wish it would come sooner. The palms of her hands felt clammy and her throat was dry. ‘Do you ever get scared?’ she asked to break the silence.

  ‘Of course. I’m only human.’ He took a swig from his Thermos. ‘Want some tea?’

  At first she shook her head but then the thought of sharing a drink with him filled her with such warmth, she said, ‘Yes, please.’ Taking the Thermos from him, she sipped the tea slowly. ‘I don’t believe you. You seem unbelievably brave.’

  ‘Brave people get scared too. It’s how you deal with that fear that matters. Whether you turn around and run, or whether you keep going.’

  ‘How do you do it? How do you keep going, knowing the next bullet could kill you?’ Reluctantly she gave the Thermos back. The tea was warming her from the inside. She was no longer shivering in her wet clothes.

  ‘I like to imagine all the others before me who had to face something like this. Other warriors, fighting other wars. Sometimes …’ He hesitated as if he was too embarrassed to tell her. ‘Sometimes, I pretend I’m one of them. I imagine I am Napoleon, Caesar or Alexander on one of their many campaigns.’ He shrugged. ‘It helps when things get tough.’

  She laughed, and for a moment forgot all about her fears. ‘You’re lucky I am your tree companion today. I can tell you everything you ever wanted to know about Napoleon.’

  ‘Why is that?’

  ‘My grandfather is a history professor, specialising in Napoleonic history. He’s obsessed with the man. Napoleon was all he ever talked about. It was inspiring, really, seeing how passionate he was about his work. My grandfather, I mean. Not Napoleon.’ She felt herself blush and stopped talking.