Hale’s words of comfort had an immediate effect on the frightened animal and she began to calm. Satisfied that Liv would still be around to carry his family to safety, Hale pulled his rifle from the floor of the sleigh. As he emerged from the alleyway, he looked down the main street of the village and spotted a group of Finnish soldiers setting up defenses at the edge of town.
As he ran toward them, he heard something in the air above him shrieking. Looking up, he spotted a Russian fighter/bomber in a steep dive toward the village center. Strapped to the under carriage of the plunging aircraft was a large bomb.
Suddenly, the bomb was released from the aircraft which pulled up sharply. The bomb, painted a dull gray, whistled through the air as it plummeted toward the hospital. Hale, fearing the worst, stopped his run and watched as the five-hundred-pound instrument of destruction slowly fell toward the roof of the structure.
Perfectly aimed, the bomb burst through the center of the red cross painted on the hospital’s roof and exploded. The force of the blast blew out the windows of the structure. As flames began to billow out of the broken windows the walls collapsed and the roof crashed to the ground.
“Oh my God! That was the hospital you animal!” Hale raged and shook his fist at the retreating aircraft. Already out of range there was nothing he could do.
Hale’s attention was drawn to the gunfire that suddenly erupted on the edge of town. As he looked in that direction, he saw two platoons of Finnish soldiers, using overturned wagons as cover, firing into the forest. In addition to the riflemen, two groups of three men each worked quickly to set up heavy weapons. One a machine gun, the other, an anti-tank gun.
The roof of the southernmost building of the village suddenly exploded, That wasn’t a bomb, that was a high explosive tank round. The Russians are here! Hale turned back toward the church and ran inside.
The sanctuary was in chaos as both families stood around and argued, “Enough!” Hale bellowed.
Everyone in the church stopped and looked at Hale, “The Russians are attacking the village. Dad, get Mom, Aina and Nea into the sleigh and moving toward the farm now! You should be safe there for tonight. Turning to Nea’s parents he said, do you have transportation?”
Nea’s father Tarmo replied, “Our sleigh was parked out front.”
“Then you don’t have a sleigh anymore.” Turning to his father Hale said, “Can you take Nea’s family too?”
Hale’s father nodded, “Yes, they can ride on the rails.”
“Good that’s settled. The rest of you make your way out of the village to the north. I don’t know how many Russians are out there, but we have maybe two platoons trying to set up a defense on the southside of town. That isn’t going to hold the bastards for long, so get moving!”
Ignoring the tidal wave of questions that erupted from his friends and family, Hale turned and ran out of the church. He made his way back to the family sleigh, spent a moment comforting Liv, and then pulled his PPD 34 from the sleigh floor. I don’t have any ammunition for you, but you might come in handy if I can find some.
Hale left the alleyway and ran toward the south edge of the village. As he ran, he saw the Finnish defenders had finished setting up their heavy weapons. The anti-tank gun one of the precious few 37mm PstK/36’s Finland owned, fired a shot at a target in the forest. A moment later an explosion erupted at the edge of the tree line. They got one of the bastards! Hale thought.
As he approached the make shift barricade of overturned wagons, the defenders had hastily erected in the middle of the street, automatic weapons fire erupted, driving Hale to the ground. He dove to the muddy earth in his Sunday best, ruining the suit. Cursing, at the mud, the cold, and the bullets, he scrambled on all fours until he reached the thin line of soldiers defending Perkjavi.
One of the defenders, a sergeant judging by his stripes, looked down at Hale in disdain, “What good do you think you are going to accomplish boy? You’ll only get in the way of the real soldiers trying to save your ass.”
Hale glared up at the man and said, “I’m a sniper with Er.P3, I was getting married in the church.”
Hearing Hale’s retort the sergeant noticed Hale’s well cared for rifle for the first time. He gestured toward the forest and said, “Then by all means snipe. It’s not going to do much good, but another man might buy the villagers a few more seconds to escape. We’ve been ordered by 5th Division headquarters to fight a delaying action here to buy our people a little time before we continue our retreat toward the Mannerheim Line.”
Hale opened his mouth to ask another question, but the Sergeant, who had been reloading his rifle, stood and fired a shot. Hale, quickly followed suit. He gasped at the sheer number of Soviets charging toward them. Ignoring the bullets snapping around him he carefully took aim and put a bullet in one of the enemy soldiers. Shots fired, the two men were forced to duck back down as a hail of lead whistled around them.
Both men sat down on the muddy road, their backs to the overturned wagon, “Nice shot. I’m Taisto.”
“Hale.”
Taisto turned to a group of men working on setting up a heavy machine gun and yelled, “If you ladies don’t start firing now, we are fucked.”
Heeding Taisto’s words, a large man, Hale couldn’t see his name tag, grabbed the gun, and set it down on the top of a wagon. Using the overturned cart as a stand, he squeezed the trigger as he moved the gun back and forth.
Hale stole a quick glance over the edge of the wagon he hid behind to choose his next target. The targets were quickly disappearing as the heavy machine gun mowed down row after row of charging Russian soldiers. The air was filled with the sounds of screaming Russians and a mist of blood as they were cut to pieces by the dozens.
Hale quickly ducked back down and started to smile. He turned to Taisto to share the good news. As he did so, the heavy machine gunner was blown into messy bits as a high explosive tank round, penetrated the overturned wagon they were using as cover, and detonated on top of him. In an instant, the big man was torn to shreds, along with the crew feeding bullets to the gun, and the wagon they used as cover.
Almost immediately the 37mm PstK/36 anti-tank gun barked in response. The round slammed into the Soviet T-28 tank that had fired the shot, and penetrated the front armor. A fraction of a second later, the turret of the enemy tank was blown into the sky, as the round found the ammunition bunker inside the tank and detonated it.
Taisto, cursing at the loss of the machine gun, stood up to fire a shot. As soon as his head rose above the protection afforded by the wagon, it exploded into a bloody mess.
“Fuck!” Hale exclaimed as he was covered in blood.
He looked around to take stock of the situation. Nearly half of the defenders had been killed in the last sixty seconds. Gazing through the chaotic scene, the young sniper made eye contact with another man. The man, who shook violently as he worked to reload his rifle, had the two stripes of a Finnish corporal on his epaulettes. Hale took a deep breath and peeked around the edge of the wagon. He would not make the same mistake as the former Sergeant. I have no desire for my brains to join Taisto’s all over the ground.
Hale’s eyes widened as they filled with the sight of hundreds of Russians advancing toward them. The Red Army Soldiers were stepping over the corpses of their comrades recently slain by the efforts of the heavy machine gunner. The corporal, separated from Hale by the crater that used to be the unit’s heavy machine gun squad’s position fired a shot, slew a Russian, and yelled, “We can’t hold here, retreat further into town!”
The corporal’s statement was punctuated by the loud shot from the 37mm PstK/36 anti-tank gun. The projectile slammed into the armor of an advancing T-26 light tank causing it to explode. Flame shot out of the port holes of the tank as it rolled to a stop and the men inside screamed in agony as they boiled alive.
The gun crew worked quickly prepare the PstK/36 for the withdraw. As they did so, the remainder of the Finnish survivors stood and fled. Half o
f them were immediately shot in the back by the tidal wave of olive drab green advancing toward their collapsing position. Hale, desperate to buy the gun crew the time they needed to pull the precious weapon to safety looked about for a faster firing weapon.
Miraculously, a PPD 34 magazine, covered in gore and mud lay at his feet, “Where did you come from?” Hale said.
Placing his rifle on his left shoulder, he drew his PPD 34 from his right shoulder, ejected the empty magazine, and slammed the gory one home. The mess covered magazine, slid into place with a satisfying click. Hale smiled, Judging by the weight this magazine is full.
As the gun crew, staying low, began to pull their gun down the muddy street, Hale stood and hosed down the Russians with his PPD 34. Surprised by his attack, hundreds of Russians dove to the ground seeking cover. Two dozen of them would never rise again.
Ammunition expended; Hale ducked back down behind the wagon. Desperate for another weapon to help stem the tide, he looked around. His eyes landed on the legless torso of a dead Finn nearby. His gray uniform was covered in mud, blood, and guts. Hale ignored the horrific scene. Instead his eyes focused on the two grenades clipped to the man’s suspenders, he smiled.
He exposed himself for a moment as he reached over to pull the body close. Gunfire erupted. The bullets smacking into the mud all around him as he hauled the body back under cover. He quickly unclipped the two grenades, pulled the pins, and heaved them in the direction of the Russians.
As soon as they exploded, he stood, put a bullet into a Russian that was too stupid to dive for cover, and ran up the main street of the village northward. As he passed the raging fire that used to be the hospital, he ducked into the alleyway where Liv and the sleigh had been parked, it was empty.
Smiling, his eyes followed the trail caused by the sleigh as it had exited the alleyway to the east and then turned north, Good, they followed my instructions.
Hale ejected the clip from his rifle, and slammed a new one home. He peeked around the corner of the church. The Russians had reached the barricade and where pouring through the hole created by the tank shot that destroyed the heavy machine gun crew.
He took a deep breath and held it. Taking aim at a Russian he pulled the trigger. Before his first victim could hit the ground, he operated the bolt on his rifle and slew another. He repeated this move over and over until the Russians were able to pinpoint his position. A barrage of bullets slammed into the corner of the church forcing the young sniper to take cover.
His magazines empty, he looked around to see if any other Finnish soldiers were about, there were none. Father, I hope you have a good lead on these jackals, I don’t have anything left to buy you more time.
Hale turned and ran toward the tree line behind the church. As he ran, he noticed the tracks left by the family sleigh as they turned northward and followed the tree line. Heading right for the road out of town. Godspeed. Hale thought. As Hale ran, a few Russians caught sight of him, raised their rifles, and fired at the fleeing Finn. They missed.
As he reached the tree line, a thought occurred to him, My first magazine still has three bullets in it.
Smiling Hale dug the clip out of his pocket, ejected the empty magazine from his gun, and slammed the partially loaded one home. Now I wait for the right opportunity.
He withdrew into the tree line and waited. As the adrenaline left his body, he began to shiver. The mud and blood covered suit he wore did little to protect him from the oppressive cold of a Finnish December, I should have taken a moment to grab my coat.
After what felt like an eternity of shaking in the bitter cold, a pair of Russians appeared in the alleyway between the church and a house. The two men, appeared to be shirking their responsibility as they lit two cigarettes and began speaking with each other. Hale started to rub his hands together to return feeling to his frozen appendages.
The young sniper crept to the edge of the tree line and looked to his left and right. There were no other Russians in site, This might work, but I need them to come to me.
Hale decided to gamble, he set his rifle behind a tree so that the Russians wouldn’t be able to see it and stepped out into the open, “Hey Shitheads. I’m freezing, can I come back into the village?”
The two Russians immediately ceased their conversation and turned toward the sound of Hale’s voice. Fortunately for Hale, they didn’t understand Finnish. The Red Army Soldiers, neither over the age of twenty, raised their rifles. The one on the left barked, “Stoy!”
Hale raised his arms and showed the enemy soldiers his palms, “Whatever you say.”
He waited patiently as the two Russians ran toward him, their rifles pointed his chest. He coyly began stepping back toward the tree line, “Stoy!” The Russian barked again.
Ignoring the order, Hale took a large step back, snatched up his rifle, and put a bullet into the vocal Russian. As he fired, he smiled and said, “Stoy this you swine.”
Hale’s un-aimed shot crashed into the chest of the man knocking him off his feet. The other soldier stopped running and fired off a shot at Hale as the young sniper dove for cover behind a tree. Rolling back to his feet, he emerged from the protection of the trunk on the other side of it, raised his rifle, and put a bullet right into the shocked open mouth of the remaining Russian.
Wasting no time, Hale ran to the first Russian corpse. He quickly removed the man’s olive drab greatcoat and red star emblazoned hat. Next, he snatched up the man’s pack and ammo satchel, and then turned and ran for the tree line. Finding cover behind a large oak tree, he quickly put the coat and hat on.
Next, he plunged his hands into the ammo satchel. He felt the cold metal of dozens of bullets with his fingertips. Smiling at his good fortune he set about reloading all three of his magazines. Finishing, he counted up the bullets he had left, Thirty, just enough to load my PPD 34 magazine.
As Hale worked to place bullets into his sub-machine gun’s gore encrusted magazine, a group of Russians arrived to investigate the gun fire. Seeing the slain corpses of their comrades, the squad’s Sergeant, immediately began barking orders. The squad, quickly fanned out and began advancing toward the tree line, as the Soviet Sergeant, bent down to investigate the coatless corpse.
Hale, ignoring the Russians, continued loading the magazine of his PPD 34. Finishing, he stole a quick glance to see where the advancing Russians were. The nearest one, saw Hale, raised his rifle and put a bullet into the tree, about two inches from Hale’s head as he yelled, “Vot.” Repeatedly.
Hale, exhaled, ejecting a large cloud of steam from his mouth. Snatching up a rock from the ground, he heaved it to his right. The movement and noise of the rock hitting the ground, caused all seven of the advancing Russians to turn and fire in the direction of the rock. Hale emerged from behind the oak in the opposite direction that he had thrown the rock.
Yelling, he hosed down the squad of Russians with his PPD 34. As the last Soviet toppled over, the Sergeant stood and took aim at Hale. His weapon, empty, Hale dove for cover as the Sergeant squeezed the trigger. The rifle roared sending the bullet into the space that Hale had just occupied a moment before. Like before, he rolled into a crouching position, on the other side of the tree trunk, drew his pistol and put a shot into the Sergeant’s head.
Before the Sergeant’s corpse hit the ground, Hale was running toward the nearest Russian body. He snatched up the man’s ammo satchel, the three grenades clipped to his belt, and the man’s backpack. The sound of whistles and shouts filled the air, as Hale, took a moment to remove the man’s gloves.
Before any Russians could arrive on the grisly scene of carnage, Hale disappeared into the forest. He ran for ten minutes, trying to put some distance between himself and the Red Army Soldiers he had slain. As he ran, he spotted a fallen log that would afford him good cover while he regrouped. He stopped running and listened for sixty seconds to determine if there was anyone pursuing him. Satisfied there wasn’t, he slipped behind the log to hide and went to work.
He counted out fifty rounds as he removed the bullets one by one from the satchel. Satisfied that he had more than enough, he worked to quickly reload the PPD 34 magazine as the first sounds of the pursuit drew closer. He paused for a moment to listen to the shouting and whistles. I wonder how many of the bastards they sent after me? Not much sense in hanging around and giving them a chance to find me. Thanks to Stalin’s war machine, I’m now nicely armed. Time to head to the farm, collect my family, and lead them to safety behind the Mannerheim line.
Dressed like a Russian, Hale set off in the direction of his family’s farm. With these clothes I took, I look like a Russian now. I sure hope there aren’t any Finnish snipers lurking in these woods. Hale chuckled out loud at the thought, Thank God it’s getting dark.
He set a brisk pace, not wanting to waste the remaining hour of daylight. As he ran, his thoughts drifted back to the ceremony earlier in the day, I never realized Nea could be so beautiful! I’m a lucky man.
Despite the cold, thoughts of his new wife warmed his nether regions. As he ran, his mind filled with the pleasures of the night to come. He dwelled on these happy thoughts as the shouting Russians, and the miles fell away. Once the Sun set, he was forced to slow his pace. As soon as the last of the fading rays of the yellow orb disappeared, the forest was cloaked in a sea of blackness. With no moon on this night, Hale could hardly see his hand if he held it out two feet in front of his eyes. Fortunately for the young sniper, he knew these woods like the back of his hand.
About a mile out, no longer fearing losing his way in the sea of murky darkness, he quickened his pace to a brisk walk. I’ll be home in time for dinner. He smiled at the thought as his stomach voiced its agreement with a dull growl. An owl hooted to his right, startling him back into the present. He caught a hint of wood smoke smell with his nose and smiled, Not long now. I wonder what mom is making tonight?
The Winter Sniper Page 20