Finally, his ears registered a sound that didn’t belong. Off to his right he could faintly hear the sound of boots crunching in the snow, The sniper.
Hale, slowly used his right hand to reach the holster on his right hip. He unsnapped the flap and drew out his pistol. If I remain still and silent, I can surprise him.
The sounds of the crunching snow disappeared for a time as Hale sat wondering. Was I hearing things?
Hale’s doubts slipped away, as the sniper began slowly moving forward again. The sound of the crunching snow under the man’s boots grew ever closer. Every few minutes the sniper would pause and listen. When the man was satisfied, he would start moving forward again.
As the Soviet Sniper drew closer, the passage of time seemed to slow to a crawl in Hale’s mind, Where is he? Hale thought for the hundredth time in the last twenty minutes. The sniper paused again, and grew silent. By Hale’s reckoning he was maybe twenty feet off to the right.
Hale began to sweat despite the bitter cold. Did the bastard see me somehow?
Finally, after what had felt like an eternity to Hale, the man started moving forward again. Careful to not make a sound, Hale unbuckled the strap of leather that secured his knife to his left hip. The knife sheathe, like the pistol holster, rested on his hip. Step by step the man drew closer, until he was just on the other side of the large tree trunk that concealed Hale from his sight.
The sniper chose that moment to stop and listen, Oh come on! Just one more step and I’ll have you. Hale lamented.
The seconds slowly ticked by as Hale did his upmost to remain still and not make a sound that would give away his position. He wrapped the fingers of his right hand around his knife, planning to stand up and stick it in the man’s chest as soon as he rounded the tree in front of Hale.
The Soviet Sniper satisfied that no one was near, finally took that step. Unfortunately for Hale, the man chose to walk around the back side of the tree, and immediately spotted Hale’s legs laying in the snow. As the Russian brought his rifle up to put a bullet in Hale’s posterior, Hale released his hold on the holstered knife, rolled over, and slapped the sniper’s rifle away with his free hand.
The enemy soldier’s rifle thundered in Hale’s ear as the man put a bullet into the ground a mere inch from Hale’s right knee. If I hadn’t of let go of the knife and spoiled his aim, I’d be dead now. Hale thought.
Hale stepped forward and moved around the front side of the tree, pistol in hand. The man took a step back and frantically worked the bolt on his rifle to chamber another round so he could take another shot. Before the Soviet Sniper could finish, Hale emerged from the other side of the tree with his pistol raised.
The sniper met Hale’s eyes with his own, they were hazel, and gave him a faint smile. He dropped his rifle and raised his hands up and said, “Sdacha.”
What am I supposed to do with him? They never told us anything about prisoners. Hale thought. A shot rang out, it must have come from the other two Soviets nearby to the north. A moment later the Soviet sniper clutched his chest, and collapsed to the ground.
Hale threw himself to the earth, as a second shot rang out, The other Russians. I forgot about them! A moment later the bullet slammed into the tree that Hale had been hiding behind earlier. Was I seen, or was the second rifleman just taking a guess? Hale asked himself.
Fueled by a shot of adrenaline from his near death, the sound of his heart thundered in his ears as his blood pressure increased. Trying to calm his frayed nerves, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Quieting the drum in his ears, he sat perfectly still for a minute and listened intently for the Soviets. The only thing he heard was the sound of silence.
Satisfied that the two men weren’t rushing him, he crawled over to the twitching corpse of the sniper. Searching him, he found a small bottle of vodka, a grenade, and a picture of the man’s sweetheart. Hale placed the bottle and grenade into his pack. With this much vodka, I’ll be very warm tonight.
He took another moment to listen for the other two Russians. Once again, his ears were greeted with silence. Satisfied, he looked down at the picture. The woman, slender in appearance, with high cheekbones, and a small nose looked back at him from whatever moment in time the photograph was taken. She wore a floral printed dress, that showed off her figure, which bulged and curved in all the right places. I guess you’ll be in the market for a new man soon.
The picture reminded him of a happier moment and Hale’s thoughts slipped away from the present back to his last day at home. Germany had invaded Poland and thanks to the Molotov-Ribbentrop pact the Soviet Union was given a free hand in Eastern Europe to include Finland. To prepare, Finland had mobilized the army and called for volunteers. Hale had heeded the call.
It was a bright and warm early September afternoon. His last full day at home before he boarded the train that took him to the army. Looking up he saw his beloved Nea walk into the barn, “What are you doing?” She asked.
He put down the shovel he was using to muck out the cow’s stall, and met the gaze of her green eyes, A man could get lost in those eyes forever. “Mucking out the barn.” Hale replied.
“This is your last day before you have to leave for the army. Shouldn’t you be doing something a bit more fun than shoveling cow dung?” Nea asked.
Hale took his gloves off and turned to face her, “Probably. Did you have something in mind?”
“How about a walk? The leaves are starting to turn.” Nea replied.
Hale nodded and took her hand. They walked out of the barn and quickly found their way onto a nearby path that led into the forest. Hale marveled at how closely Nea’s red hair matched the color of many of the turning leaves. As they walked, his eyes slowly traced the lines of her creamy colored neck as her skin disappeared into the folds of her dress.
As his eyes continued to trace the lines of her body beneath her dress, she stopped walking, and turned to face him. Surprised by her sudden stop, he jerked his eyes upward as she met his gaze. Too late. He thought.
“Getting an eyeful?” Nea asked.
Hale smiled down at her sheepishly and nodded feeling dumb. Still holding his hand, she tugged him to her. She looked up into his eyes as Hale used his left hand to brush away her crimson bangs. Oh God, there’s those eyes again! A man could swim forever in those emerald orbs, and she smells so good.
He heard the sound of his heart pounding in his ears as he desperately thought, What do I say?
Nea, ended his conundrum by tilting her head upward and pressing forward with her lips. He lowered his own chin, and their lips met. They kissed briefly, and both of their cheeks took on a scarlet hue as the two stepped back and averted their eyes from each other.
Recovering quickly, Nea met his gaze, and said, “Hale, it’s ok.”
She took a step forward and without hesitation he wrapped his arms around her slender frame and pulled her close. His lips sought hers and they kissed. This time the kiss was more insistent. It seemed to go on forever as they explored each other with their tongues. Breathless, they finally broke the contact.
Nea, threw him a smile and dropped her eyes to his waistline and took in the growing bulge beneath his pants. Smiling, she took him by the hand and led him into the trees. Hale’s thoughts snapped back into reality. He was still holding the picture of the unknown woman in his hands. Sighing he looked down at it. Unable to gaze upon the woman anymore he flipped the picture over, on the back was a name and an address. I can tell her what happened. He thought.
Hale slipped the picture into a coat pocket just as his ears registered the sound of snow crunching. Listening he was able to discern two sets of boots as they made their way through the snow toward him, They think I’m shot. He surmised.
The edges of his lips turned up slightly as he thought, They are going to pay dearly for their mistake. He crawled around the base of the tree until he was positive that the trunk was between him and the two approaching men. He then stood slowly to maintain his sile
nce.
He peeked out from behind the tree and spotted the two Russians. They were perhaps thirty feet away from him. They kept walking toward him without breaking stride, They didn’t see me.
Hale brought his rifle up and rounded the tree opposite to the Russians. As the two Soviets registered his presence, he put a bullet in the face of the soldier on his right. Horrified, the other man stood there with a dumb look on his face as Hale worked the bolt on his rifle.
Snapping out of his shock, the man started to raise his own rifle up to take aim at Hale. He never got the chance. The silence of the forest was pierced for a second time as Hale pulled the trigger on his rifle. At this range Hale couldn’t miss, and the unfortunate dropped to his knees and then toppled sideways over onto the body of his slain comrade.
Hale approached the two men and quickly searched them. Unfortunately, they lacked both grenades and vodka. Poor bastards. Quickly forgetting about his victims, he started walking quickly toward the truck, I hope it won’t take to long to change that tire. . .
Chapter 3
Karelia Istumus Afternoon November 30th 1939
Hale awoke. His head throbbed as he rolled over and wondered. Where am I?
Steeling himself for reality he opened his eyes. His vision filled with a brown padded bench seat overhead. Groaning, he closed his eyes as a wave of nausea passed over him. Fighting the urge to vomit, he steeled himself and opened his eyes again. The first thing he noticed was the light. It was dim. The sun must be setting for the light to be so low.
A shiver ran through his body from the intense cold. As he struggled to keep his eyes open, his vision blurred and another wave of nausea hit him. He clinched his eyes shut and tried to will the demon in his gut to remain silent. This time he failed and narrowly avoided making a mess of his white overcoat. As he leaned forward, the contents of his stomach burst forth from his mouth. Finished, he sighed in relief as the nausea dissipated.
Seeing spots, Hale blinked his eyes several times trying to clear the stubborn dots from his vision as he removed a glove. He reached up with his hand and rubbed his temple trying to relieve the pain he felt in his head. Despite the pain, he was finally able to focus enough his mind enough to once again ask, Where am I?
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Opening them, his vision finally sharpened enough to register where he was, the cab of a truck. Looking down at his chest, which was covered in shattered glass, he asked himself, How did I get here? I don’t remember what happened.
Before he could search his mind for an answer to his question, he heard the roar of an engine. The noise, drew his eyes to the back window of the truck. Spots danced in his eyes as he was blinded by the dull yellow glow of twin beams. The dull yellow glow caused his vision to swim and his mind drifted. Losing consciousness again, the next thing he remembers is looking up into the barrel of an SVT-38, “Pokazhi mne svoi ruki.” A voice barked.
Hale’s addled mind raced as he drifted back to his brief lesson in the Russian language given to him by the Army. “Repeat after me.” Oda, his instructor, a stern looking woman of around thirty-five said, “Ya podchinyauys. I surrender.”
Along with the rest of the class, Hale’s tongue stumbled over the unfamiliar syllables of the Russian language. The strange words were so very different from his native Finnish.
From the back of the classroom Sergeant Kivi roared, “You sound like a bunch of drooling simpletons!”
Oda, their Russian language instructor, cast the class a stern look from behind her horn-rimmed glasses, slapped a ruler onto her desk and said, “Focus! Again, repeat after me. Ya pochinyauys. I surrender.”
Hale dutifully repeated the words. When they finished Sergeant Kivi nodded, “Better, but you still sound like a donkey with a tree branch up your ass.”
Oda’s forehead creased as she cast an irritated glare at Sergeant Kivi. “Repeat after me, Ya pochinyauys, I surrender.”
This time the class uttered the phrase in near unison, “That’s better. Maybe you fools aren’t as stupid as you look.” Sergeant Kivi said.
From somewhere in front of Hale a voice said, “No sir. We are plenty stupid. Otherwise we wouldn’t be here training to fight a foe that out numbers us ten to one.”
Oda snorted, trying to stifle a laugh at the words. Sergeant Kivi’s cheeks turned a deep crimson as he leaped to his feet and roared, “Who said that?”
The enraged Sergeant was met with silence as he stormed up and down the aisles of the simple classroom. Stopping next to Hale, he pulled on his shoulder, spun him around in his chair to face him, and bellowed, “Was it you?”
Hale, barely succeeded in fighting down the urge to urinate upon himself at the sight of the enraged Sergeant. It was his second day of training and he hadn’t figured out if the Sergeant was God Almighty or a Demon sent from the foulest bits of hell to torment him. He looked up at Sergeant Kivi’s with wide eyed fear etched on his face as the big man loomed over him. The Sergeant’s scarlet hued face crinkled in rage as his blue eyes bored into Hale’s hazel orbs. It’s as if he is looking into my very soul. Sweat began to glisten on the Sergeant’s forehead as he roared, “I asked you a question soldier. Was it you?”
Hale wiped the Kivi’s saliva from his face with his left sleeve as he replied, “No sir!”
Sergeant Kivi’s eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared as he glared at Hale. The younger man could almost see puffs of flame emerging from the Sergeant’s nostrils. After several long moments, the Sergeant turned and walked up the aisle. Finding another victim, he bellowed the same question. Hale took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Relieved that the Sergeant was gone, and that he didn’t piss himself before he turned his attention elsewhere.
Oda, met Hale’s relieved gaze and gave him a faint smile of encouragement before she turned back to the class and said, “One more time, repeat after me, Ya pochinyauys, I surrender.”
The class dutifully repeated the words as Sergeant Kivi spun another hapless victim around and yelled, “Was it you?”
The older man, his faded blond locks turning to gray and his face etched by many years of exposure to the sun and the wind smiled up at Sergeant Kivi and said, “Yes it was me.”
Sergeant Kivi glanced down at the nametag on the man’s uniform and said, “Corporal Pekka, I trust that you will stop disrupting the class so that my privates can focus on their lessons.”
Corporal Pekka reared back in laughter and said, “If you’d stop being such an ass from the back of the room, perhaps they could focus.”
Sergeant Kivi, grabbed Corporal Pekka by his uniform shirt and pulled him up out of the chair as a voice from the doorway barked, “That’s enough Sergeant, Corporal Pekka with me.” Lieutenant Riku said.
Corporal Pekka threw Sergeant Kivi another smile and gently removed the Sergeant’s hands from his uniform. The Sergeant’s hands dropped wistfully to his sides as Corporal Pekka made eye contact with Lieutenant Riku and said, “At once sir.”
“Class, I think you have this one. Let’s move on to the next phrase.” Oda said.
The remaining members of the class, all privates under the guiding hand of Sergeant Kivi said in unison, “Yes ma’am.”
Oda smiled, “Good, now repeat after me, “Pokazhi mne svoi ruki. Put your hands up.”
Hale’s mind slipped back into the present as the voice on the other side of the gun yelled again, “Pokazhi mne svoi ruki!”
Obeying the command, Hale slowly raised his hands up. The man holding the gun took a step back and another set of hands reached in and unceremoniously pulled Hale from the cab. The man with the SVT-38 gestured upward with the gun barrel as he said, “Vstavat.”
Getting the message, Hale nodded and slowly came to his feet. As he reached his full height, his head swam, causing him to stagger. The same arms that had pulled him from the truck reached out and steadied him.
“Nazovite sebya!” Barked the Russian with the two triangles on his coat collar that indicated his r
ank of Sergeant.
I guess angry and loud sergeants are universal. Hale thought.
The Soviet Sergeant took a step forward and punched Hale in the gut with his right hand and yelled, “Nazovite sebya!”
Hale, surprised by the blow, crumpled and dropped to his knees. What does he want? Hale desperately wondered. His mind tried to go back to his brief half day lesson in Russian, but before he could. The Sergeant slapped Hale in the side of the face with his open palm. The blow caused stars to explode into Hale’s vision and he toppled sideways striking the ground.
As the cold embrace of the frozen snow greeted him his foggy mind thought, The cold feels good.
The Sergeant took another step forward. He loomed over Hale, leaned down over him, while placing his hands on his knees and once again yelled, “Nazovite sebya!”
The Russian raised his gloved hand to strike Hale again. Bracing himself for the blow, Hale closed his eyes. Before the enraged Sergeant could land the blow, another voice barked, “Dovol’no”
After several seconds and no blow came, Hale opened his eyes to see what was happening. A hand was wrapped around the Sergeant’s raised arm. Like the Sergeant, the newcomer wore an olive drab green overcoat with a fur lined cap. The cap was emblazoned with the red star of the Soviet Union. The Soviet caps Hale had seen thus far sported a Red Star of varying size, made out of cheap red thread. This man’s cap, had a shiny red star fashioned out of metal and painted a bright cheerful red. In addition to the difference in the Red Star, instead of an enlisted man’s triangles, the man’s collar sported three red squares, An officer! Hale thought, I’m really in the shit now.
Surprisingly the newcomer addressed Hale in his own language, “You’ll have to forgive the Sergeant’s enthusiasm. Like most of the men of the Soviet Union, he is a simple peasant who doesn’t understand any language other than force. What’s your name?”
The Winter Sniper Page 4