One Man Fortresses

"One-man fortress" is the term Chuikov would use in 1963 to describe the defensive strategy of the men of 13th Guards Rifle Division (Rodimtsev) in Stalingrad-1 railway station.

Pedagogical Institute (4 4)

Autumn has been making the Stalingrad air steadily crisper, warning of the winter around the corner. Rain today turned the battle-churned streets to muck, and now that the sun is gone a damp cold leeches through wet and muddy clothing. The soldiers garrisoned in the Institute have been going in and out at all hours to face the Fascists in the streets; all too often those that go out don't come back, replaced by another face that barely has time to give his or her name before yet another face replaces that one. The Luftwaffe has at least ceased for the night but Stalingrad is far from quiet, gunfire echoing constantly in the streets.

Elise stands watch near one of the windows, rifle held loosely in her hands. She leans against the wall beside the window, trying to keep the weight off her bandaged leg.

Mikhail stands near one of the other windows, leaning against the wall next to the window those moments that he doesn't keep watch out there. Once in a while glancing around the room, before he turns his gaze to the streets outside again.

Yevgenich keeps a watch on a set of stairs, hugging his knees and staring rather forlornly at those going up and down them. His coat is wrapped around him like a blanket. His rifle is propped up against the wall behind him. There's still a makeshift bandage round the back of his head. All in all he's not looking happy.

Liliya, too, is at one of the windows, her rifle propped between her and the wall. One hand rests upon the bullet-chipped windowsill, the other lightly resting on her rifle's barrel, keeping track of its position.

Vladmir sits atop the institute, shivering as he watches the area. He sneezes, rubbing his already red nose with the sleeve of his tattered jacket. He peers around the area, frowning into the cold, damp darkness.

Tikhon moves back onto the second floor from a patrol of the building. He stretches while still in full cover before he hefts his rifle back up and moves to help with the watch. "Not a calm night since this started." he says in much lowered tones. The young man remains quiet though keeping watch.

Novikovas, when damp, are like wet puppies. They just look kind of sad. She comes up the stairs looking a bit bleary-eyed from the cold. "Stick a fork in me, I'm not sure if I've thawed," She jokes dryly as she comes up. She smiles, seeing at least a few spaces. She's quiet though, and hesitates, debating who to sit near. Or if she should too take up a window. Regardless, she's peering around.

Footsteps tromp their way up the stairs to the second floor. Not a strange occurrence by themselves voices speaking Russian outside with them. One set stops at the doorway to where this group is, a mud-crusted soldier wearing Sergeant rank breezing into the room. His rifle's slung over his shoulder, and he brushes off his hands. "Comrades. Listen up."

Elise glances over, nodding to Tikhon. "Nor likely to be," she agrees dismally. She pulls her coat a little tighter, a slight smirk at Novikova's remark. "Perhaps the Fascists will be driven off by the cold." Yeah, not likely. She quiets when the sergeant comes up, listening.

Yevgenich smirks a little at Novi, "You'll warm up inside." Well maybe not, the wind whistles through a broken window. He stands up, shrugging his coat and picking up his rifle as soon as the Sergeant speaks.

Yulia followed Novikova up the stairs, with a weary "Comrades" to the others. She brushed some smeary wet hair out of her eyes, ready to sit, when the Sergeant appeared. Oh well. She does her best to look alive, alert, awake, but can't bring herself to be enthusiastic.

Liliya turns her head as the sergeant speaks, studying him a moment. She moves a step away from the window, leaning back against the wall with her arms folded across her chest.

Mikhail looks over at the Sergeant, staying silent for now as he keeps his attention on that man for now. Keeping the rifle ready in his hands just in case someone decides to use this moment to try taking the building.

"Would be nice though all that hot air." the young man turns towards the door as another enters he stands straight out of the window and waits to here the possible new orders. Tikhon's eyes take in all of the others around him as well.

A smile over her shoulder to Yulia and a look to Yev at his comment. She grins at his smirk. But Novikova goes quiet at hearing the Sergeant before she sees him. He has her attention at least.

The Sergeant waits a moment to take stock of the humanity in the room, counting each head. Apparently that'll do. He nods curtly. "Some Fascists have themselves holed up at Stalingrad-1." One of the major railway stations in the city, close to the contested Mamayev Kurgan hill. "Lt Chervyakov's requested backup units for the 1st Battalion. We're sending you comrades up there to help reinforce. You're to head out to the station and take the east road in (5 5). Your liaison is Senior Sergeant Pavel Liadov."

Mikhail nods a little bit as he hears that. "Senior Sergeant Liadov…" he mutters to himself, before he looks back towards the Sergeant. "Yes, Sergeant." Spoken quietly, yet loud enough to be heard.

"What, right now?" Liliya's voice, a little scratchy from disuse; she clears her throat and gains a bit of volume. "In the morning?"

Vladmir is pulled off of guard duty by another man, and makes his way down to the Second floor. He climbs down just to see the Sergeant. He hurries over, catching the briefing. He listens carefully, nodding his head after the briefing finishes.

Yevgenich nods along. He doesn't bother taking a look around, he just finishes putting his coat on and slings his rifle over his shoulder. "Comrade." He acknowledges the task. Then waits for this Sergeant to appear, or the current Sergeant to lead them away.

"Right now." The Sergeant answers Liliya. "Get a move-on while you've got the night to cover you. We've got the back way off Mira Road barricaded. Just go quickly."

No arguing with that. Yulia follows Yev's lead and quickly scans her medical bag, then her rifle. Both are good. Her boots could use a little bolstering against the cold damp outside, but they'll have to do for now.

Tikhon looks back listening to the orders he nods to them. He grabs the few things he has left here to be ready to move looking to the others perhaps seeing if the are in need of help.

Sokolof stands and listens up with the others from the corner he was sitting in. He frowns when he hears they are moving. Looking a little sorry for it. But he keeps his mouth shut, of course, and looks ready to trudge on like a good little conscript.

"The night to cover us." Liliya's mouth twists sourly as she echoes it back. It's done so well for them so far, after all. "As you command, Comrade." She turns back to the wall, picking up her rifle and giving it its once-over before slinging it over her shoulder.

Novikova blinks. But nods obediently. Mercifully, Liliya asks the question first. She scoots to fetch something from where she normally rests. Got it! Is it a book? It's wrapped in her old civilian jacket. Once a very fine brown fur lined jacket, the weather and being kept for wrapping things, it's - not quite so fine, but still sturdy for use as an improvised bag. Novikova is quiet and moves to be nearer her cousin and offer some support if needed.

Yevgenich assumes that's an order. He heads down towards the stairs. "Good luck comrade." He mutters as he walks past the Sergeant. Then he's off with a pat of his satchel and without a look back. He does stop at the bottom of the stairs though, waiting for the rest of the group.

The Sergeant nods, pulling his rifle back off his shoulder. He's got more Fascists to hunt. "Good luck, comrades." And with that he's out, returning to his own men and the blood on the streets.

Mikhail nods a little bit, making sure he's got all his things with him as he moves, hurrying down the stairs.

"Farewell." Novikova nods back at the Sergeant and shuffles along with the others. She waits for Elise though.

Tikhon moves along with the group weapon in hand eyes scanning the surroundings as they move. He is still quiet other than his breath in the night though.

Splitch. Liliya glances down with wearied irritation as she steps into a puddle she hadn't spotted in the darkness. She sidesteps the puddle and heads forward, staying near the edge of the group.

Elise likewise moves over to join her cousin, having paused briefly to pick up the sack with her meager belongings. It's slung over her shoulder. "I wonder if we'll come back here after," she muses quietly to Novi and anyone else who happens to be nearby. She's still limping a little but seems to be moving okay.

Mikhail moves outside, and hurries to the nearest shadow, doing his best to make himself harder to see. "Carefully, my friends…" he offers quietly. As if nobody knew that already.

Sokolof slips out of the archway, slouching so his angular form won't cast such long shadows as he moves out into the street. A wry nod at the sergeant's wish of luck. No waving from him.

Yevgenich gets out of the building. "Comrades, shall we keep to the cover of built up areas?" Seems like a good idea to head out east before waltzing onto the street. He keeps his head down as he looks back. His hands find pockets to hide in for now.

Maschenko is with the group albeit quietly. He's trailing, having had to grab his medical supplies to transport. But he's here.

Yulia moves with the group, a little forlorn at having to leave the institute. The cold is nothing new, but at least her boots before the war kept out the biting wind. She nods at Yevgenich. "Seems like a good idea."

Novikova shrugs at Elise's comment, "Would be nice." Her voice is soft. She smiles. Her civilian jacket protects some precious cargo and acts as an improvised sack for now. She slows a bit to keep even with Elise. Four eyes better than two. She will politely smile at those she passes. A nod at Yev. She hunkers as she moves. Small target, small target.

Sokolof nods his agreement with Yevgenich's words as well. Whatever that's worth. He also has a general air of melancholy about him as they leave the institute. But it's not all that different from the cloak of mild pessimism he generally wears. "That sounds wise, Comrade. Best keep near as much cover as we can."

"Please," is Liliya's vote on Yevgenich's suggestion. She glances around to those nearby, mouth pressed into a thin line, before moving eastward.

Mikhail nods in agreement with the suggestion, looking around before he starts moving.

Stalingrad - City Center

Night is an eerie time in war-torn Stalingrad. The ruins of buildings, skeletal and burnt, loom over the group as they pass through the once-bustling city center. The ground is soft and tough to march through, threatening to suck the very boots off feet. Every few steps there seems to be a body or parts or one, strewn haphazardly around in a mix of wet dirt and blood. The moonlight gives little help in finding the way, and who knows whether the tiny patches of light around are Soviet or Fascist.

Yevgenich waits for a few affirmative replies before hurrying east, his hands coming out of his pockets so he can use his rifle as a walking stick. He's shivering, but it may just be the brisk wind. "Keep your eyes about you Comrades." He mutters, taking a long squint onto the eastern road. It saves looking down at the ruins after all, he doesn't have to look at what he's stepping in.

Mikhail frowns as he looks around, still making sure to stay in the visual cover that the shadows provide.

Elise walks along slowly beside her cousin, watching the buildings. "Could be anything out there," she mumbles with a frown. She nearly trips over something, realizes it's someone's leg. Eeew. Also, ouch. Elise gulps and continues on.

Tikhon moves keeping as quiet as possible he nods and scans the area both on there level and up. He is concentrating on this task knowing that the small groups danger has just multiplied.

Liliya's steps slow to drop her back beside Novikova and Elise. "Let me carry that for you," she says to the latter, with a point of her chin at the satchel. It's surely meant to be an offer, not an order, though weariness has flattened her voice. "You'll walk easier."

Novikova is moving along. Alas, Novi is one of the unfortunates who sinks in the mud abruptly. She looks startled and tries not to flail. She succeeds at least and with a soft *thuck* pulls her foot and boot free. She walks alongside Elise despite her adventure in the mud. She winces at what Elise nearly trips on. She does offer a smile at Liliya's offer.

This is not a quiet walk. To the south especially, rifle shots echo in the inky night, a constant reminder that there is nowhere safe in this city. The ratatatatat of a machine gun sounds off in the distance.

Sokolof keeps the the shadows as well, head still slightly ducked. A nod at Yevgenich's words about keeping his eyes. His, in fact, try to look everywhere at once. As if he fully expects Germans to materialize out of the paving stones. But his gaze avoids lingering too long as the wreckage that is now their home city. The sound of gunfire in the distance still makes him twitch

Despite the shadows, Yulia feels as bare as a skinned rabbit as they hurry through the ruins. She listens to the bits of conversation here and there, preferring to stay silent, focusing on getting there without being sucked into the mud like poor Novi. The tattoo of the gun puts a bit more urgency in her step.

Yevgenich does his best not to bother with the sound of guns. He makes himself take a look around at the rest, a sharp nod and he's off onto the street, out of the dark shadows of the rubble, and onto dangerously empty street, yay.

Mira Street

Elise hesitates just a moment before handing over her sack to Liliya. "Thank you, Comrade." It's not heavy, mostly just containing her fiddle and a few bits of clothing. She holds her rifle more tightly as they reach the railway station.

Mira Street is firmly entrenched with Soviet soldiers. The barricade the Sergeant mentioned is dug in deep, a massive trench spanning the width of the road and past the larger building wreckage here. Shadows move all around, mumbles of Russian and the clicks of rifles at ready all over the place. A few pilotka-wearing shapes spot the caravan and wave them on, quickly.

Vladmir keeps his rifle close to himself as he marches. His eyes scan the area, eyes widening as he and the rest of his squad stumble upon the barricade. "The Fascists are doomed!" He bolsters in a loud whisper. He follows the rest of his squad.

Yevgenich takes comfort in the mass of Russian, still he huries on no sense in making the Germans wait. Which way was it, down the road towards the railway station. A hand runs down the barrel of his rifle. "The time comes again my friend." He mutters. Time to move to where the Russians aren't.

Liliya's own satchel looks like it could be empty except for her spare ammunition. She takes Elise's bundle of possessions and gently shoulders it. She's seen the other woman with her fiddle before, perhaps. "It's no problem. Watch your footing." She looks between Elise and Novikova for a moment before turning and moving forward again, off to the edge of the group.

Tikhon looks about as they continue on. So far so good minus the gun shots and such throughout the town. "We can hope." he mutters in the same low whisper moving along with the others.

Sokolof gets less twitchy as they approach the firmly entrenched Soviet area. A bit less. He still keeps his head stooped, however.

Mikhail smiles as he sees the barricade. "Good work, Comrades," he offers to them quietly, before he heads onwards with the rest, unable to hold back a sad half-smile as he overhears Yevgenich and Vladmir.

Novikova doesn't twitch, she fidgets. Some folks grow up faster than others and while Novi's a bonafide uni student, she has catching up in other ways to do. Fidgetfidget. She nods, "Thank you." at Liliya. She nods at her barricade building comrades. Right. Fidget. Walk Fidget.

Beyond the Station

Though the road has been shelled numerous times, large craters dotting it in uneven intervals, it's still a road that can be used if you don't mind some crisscrossing. The shelled vehicles or heaps of rubble is more of a trouble since they make visibility harder.

To the west, in the shadow of the beleaguered Mamayev Kurgan hill, one can see one of the Stalingrad-1 Railway Station's main platforms. Beyond that, the shadows of the station grounds proper. The sounds of gunfire and artillery are harrowingly unrelenting at all hours of the day and night.

The road to the railway station is a long one, and as they draw closer, the sounds of fighting get ever louder to the west. Finally, a ways out from the station itself, is a huge trench made from the hole left by an exploded shell, widened and deepened. The Soviet 1st Battalion prowls this area, armed and alert.

"Stop!" A voice calls. Not too loudly, but sharply. "Identify yourselves!"

Elise watches the barricade for a moment, curious at all the activity. She follows the others into the railway station. Her limp is worse by the time they get to the end of the road, but she marches on without complaint. She stops at the shout, but lets someone else answer.

Yevgenich grows more agitated as they approach the fighting, he often pauses to sweep his eyes across the group in the dark. He stops with a sharp intake of breath, takes a couple of looks around and calls back their platoon and company number adding, "From the hospital Comrade."

Liliya halts when the voice calls for it, her boots skidding a little in the muck. Her arms come out just slightly to the sides to re-balance herself. "What's the name of our Sergeant?" she mutters, eyes widening a little at the realization she doesn't remember. Shot by your own side while trying to reinforce them. O irony.

Novikova blinks as they halt. Whoops. She looks to Elise, but says nothing for now. "You don't think they'd buy that we're the dancing vodka delivery service?" She offers in a soft whisper. She goes silent after and looks forward, peering around.

Sokolof hangs back as Yevgenich identifies them, waiting until that's received to move any further.

As Yevgenich follows through, the shadowy shape that had accosted them turns around to mutter to another, who then hurries off into the trench. "Oh, yeah. Senior Sergeant's been waiting for you."

The second soldier's come back, with a tall man in tow who stops at the trench's edge. "Comrades. My name's Liadov. Come in the trench, shelling's been heavy here."

Mikhail stops as the voice calls out, and looks about to reply when Yevgenich saves him from that job. Listening to what's being said now. "Senior Sergeant Liadov," he whispers in Lilya's direction as he hears that muttering, before he glances over towards Novikova. "I think it's the 'dancing' part they don't agree with," he whispers in return. Then, when he hears said Liadov introducing himself and instructing them to get into the trench, he moves in that direction.

The group's stopped, but Yulia would have kept walking straight into a comrade's back had the question for their identification not come up. She's got an extremely intent expression, eyebrows low and eyes dark. Trying to not get jitters from the noise of the artillery pounding her ears. Sounds like they're going to move into the trench now.

Tikhon moves quickly to be in line with the group. He stops as the loud voice is heard but it's a short pause it'd seem as he continues on in the direction he is pointed to.

Yevgenich lets out a long breath as he hears a vaguely familiar name. He moves forward, this time with a look back to the rest. "Comrade senior Sergeant." He greets once he's in the trench, trying to look alert and ready. Not time to take in the new surroundings, it's just a hole after all. That bit wasn't to bad, now what was that about the constant fighting?

Vladmir follows the group, watching as they are challenged. He stops, then breathes easily when a fellow Comrade appears. He moves into the trench behind the rest of the Squad; for some reason, a Turkish peninsula flashes into his mind…He shakes his head, clearing it of thought. He rubs his eyes, adrenaline starting to pump.

A polite smile at the first and second soldiers. Comrades. Novikova bobs her head. Did he say shelling? She does a comical double take looking to the others. She follows though, acutely aware of what happens to those not in all the cover they can get.

Liadov steps back as the group of soldiers make themselves comfy in the cold, cold mud. "I wish I could offer you some tea, but the Fascists bombed the warehouse yesterday." He spits lightly into the dirt and jerks his head westwards. "We've been fighting over this place for days. Had a foothold and gained and lost it twice yesterday. Got half the battalion on the north side working them over with snipers, and this half's going to assault from the south. We're getting reinforcements from all over. Come. You can see the map of what we're looking at." He motions them further into the trench, where shadowed candlelight illuminates a hand-drawn scribbled map stuck to a piece of wood with a knife.

"Hopefully you're a better dancer than me," Elise whispers back to her cousin. She listens quietly to the sergeant, peering at the map.

Just a hole or not, Sokolof is grateful to have it to crawl into. Though, as the sergeant describes the situation, he doesn't take the opportunity to relax. And looks, perhaps, just a bit more mournful at the lack of tea to greet them. He sticks his long nose forward for a look at this map.

Liliya follows after Liadov when a map is mentioned, (mostly-)gently shouldering her way between the taller menfolk to get a peek at it.

Novikova adds quietly with a grin to Mikhail, "But we cut such a rug." She goes quiet to listen to Liadov. A frown. No tea? Curses. She grins at Elise, then goes quiet to peer at the map. "Kind of you to offer though Comrade." She finally offers to Liadov before shutting up.

Yulia crowds around with the others, taking a quick study of the map. Though any time they get will not be enough. Her mind, right now, is just in the mood to absorb pictures. But she eventually makes sense of it enough to sweep her eyes across the faces of the others lit by the candlelight. Tea would have been nice to wake all these tired faces up a bit.

Nowakowski has disconnected.

Yevgenich wasn't really tea, still he's disappointed. A nod along to the little speech. He hangs back from the map for now, vaguely remembering the station from a couple of trips… he sighs, nostalgia. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts, watching the press of backs.

Mikhail shakes his head a bit lightly at Novikova's reply, before moving closer to the map. Watching said map a bit intently, expression a bit sadder, as it's had a tendency to be once in a while now.

"Directly to the west of us is the main departure platform," Liadov explains briskly, tapping the space on the map. "We have a small bunker there. North of that (2 1) is the main arrival platform. Also in our hands for the moment. To the west of both of those (1 1 and 1 0) are train yards. Open ground, contested. Be very careful out there." He moves his finger again. "Now, the station. This…" He moves fingertip north to (1 2) is where we need to get to. Control this and we control everything. If you notice, the problem is that we can't get to it directly from the train yard. We'll have to go in through the bottom left corner of the station and fight our way through. Now." His eyes turn to each face. "This is where it'll get interesting."

"/Now/ the interesting part," Liliya mutters under her breath, mouth twisting with black humour. She stares at the map a moment longer before turning her attention back to Liadov.

Tikhon looks back and forth between the map and the man speaking. He looks the way that is mentioned to get a better idea of the layout before anything happens.

Yevgenich closes his eyes but doesn't remember the train yards, so the mental image is a little useless. There's some recollection of the station though. He steps a little closer as the Sergeant mentions interesting. Fortunately he doesn't trip on anything or anyone.

Liadov smirks at Liliya. He's not unsympathetic. He taps that bottom left corner (0 0). "Main concourse. Used to be we could cross the train yard and assault directly. Germans got wise and built themselves a nice wall out of the rubble. Can't see us to pick us off well, but we can't get in either." Bitch, right? "Our engineers have been hauling in a universal gun piecemeal to here." He points at the south trainyard (1 0). "We've been putting it together out there behind some of the freight cars. We're going to use it to blast our way in, and take out as many of the bastards as we can in the process. One of those sergeants said you had a gunner or two with you?" His dark eyes look up again, skimming the faces questioningly.

Vladmir steps forward, presenting himself. "Comrade Vladimir Ilyich Appo." He introduces himself, "I have the proper training to operate the weapon." He slings his rifle, looking at the man.

Elise smirks slightly to Novi, but mostly just listens to the sergeant's briefing. It's been a long time since she came through the train station, so the map is hard to judge by. A nod to the sergeant's question. "Da, Sergeant." She lifts a hand slightly.

Novikova pauses. She can listen at least. Nod. She blinks. A big gun. She looks to her cousin at the mention of Gunners. And Vlad too! Beam.

Mikhail stays silent for the moment, looking towards the west now. As if trying to picture how it looks out there to himself.

Yevgenich keeps quiet. Watching the others raise their hands, biting his lip thoughtfully. The Sergeant did say they couldn't be shot from there.

"Good. We'll need you." Liadov's dark eyes search Elise's face and then Vladmir's. "Rest of you will be helping our engineers put that gun together while it's dark." He taps the concourse (0 0) again. "Entry point. We fight northwards through the ticket lobby (0 1) and the luggage docks (0 2). Then hit the admin control office (1 2) and clean it out. There we'll have backup from our boys coming from the north, if they've made it through." Big 'if', there. "We take that, comrades, and we've taken the station." He turns around, picking up two guns sitting nearby. Mosin-Nagants, with a small addition — precious scopes. "Any of you have sniper training?"

Vladmir raises his hand this time. "I also have training in sniping Comrade." He shrugs. He spits into a nearby puddle, then scratches his chin. All-Purpose Commie ftw!

Sokolof gives Liadov a nod, as to putting the gun together. He even adds a soft, "Da, Sergeant" on affirmation. Though a shake of his head as to the sniper question. He's just figuring out the basic use of his rifle.

Novikova umms. "Yes, kind of…" Assuming Novikova doesn't get impatient, give up and just pick off the Germans oldfashioned. "But others are probably better." She shakes her head. "I'm good at pretending to be a houseplant." Perhaps she seems to be good at being sneaky?

"Six years with the Stalingrad Shooting Club," Liliya says, looking from the guns Liadov holds to his face. There's a slight sound of challenge to it. You tell me if that's sniper training, Comrade.

Yulia briefly closes her eyes and reopens them slowly, trying to internalize what the sergeant is explaining. A bit of a stretch, but she gets it. Gunners? That would be Elise, for sure, and Vlad too. An honor certainly. Now for a sniper…. Vlad, too? He's like a swiss army knife! Yulia herself stays quiet, a hand gripping the strap of her medical bag. Looks like she will be Sokolof, assembling the gun.

Liadov eyes Vladmir and smirks. "Whatever factory turned you out, comrade, we need to hit that up next." He holds out one of the scoped rifles to Vladmir. Novikova gets an unamused look at the houseplants comment, and he turns his attention to Liliya instead. She gets the second one. "That's enough for me. Use it well." That done, he looks around. "There is one last thing, but do you have any questions so far?"

«Game» Vladmir unwields his Mosin-Nagant!
«Game» Vladmir wields his Scoped Mosin-Nagant!

Yevgenich just listens along. Looking at the other's speak up. Novi gets the usual frown. But he's slightly distracted with the idea of having to fight through a whole train station of Fascists. A little head shake at the questions, he can't think of any.

Mikhail shakes his head as he listens, keeping silent for now. Keeping his attention on the Sergeant for the moment.

Vladmir grins, taking the scoped Mosin-Nagant. Finally! A Real Sniper Rifle!(sorta) Vladimir looks into the scope with pride, checking it out. "Thank you very kindly Comrade.." He checks the chamber, reloading if needed.

"We attack tonight?" Elise asks, watching as the scoped rifles are doled out.

Owch. Tough audience. Novikova looks briefly crestfallen. Such is a hazard of comedy. She rubs the back of her head. Well. She does seem to fare better just picking things off so that suits her just fine. She offers a faint congratulatory smile to those who get the scoped rifles. "Neat," A nod to the two.

"How long until the universal gun is assembled?" Liliya asks, glancing up from inspecting the new rifle.

«Game» Liliya unwields her Mosin-Nagant!
«Game» Liliya wields her Scoped Mosin-Nagant!

Liadov shakes his head at Elise. "42nd regiment in the north will be shooting and shelling them all tomorrow during the daylight hours. We have tonight and tomorrow night to get that gun finished. Then Chervyakov wants us in." Ready or not.

Yevgenich nods at that. "Looks like we'll have some work building that gun." He doesn't even know how to load the thing without breaking it. He hefts his rifle, "There's no rest." He smiles, at least the Germans can't shoot him when he's working on the big gun.

"Last thing," Liadov says, pointing to the luggage dock area (0 2). "Last time we held the station, they dug a small tunnel from here…to the admin office (1 2). You can get a good jump on them through there, but you can't see anything until you're back out. Makes it a tradeoff."

Novikova is listening but nods. She seems content to be a grunt then. Hmmm. She listens and peers.

Sokolof nods to Yevgenich. "Rest? I have forgotten what that is, I think." A joke, if a characteristically dour one.

"You weren't kidding about the interesting," Liliya mutters, twisting her way out of the crowd near Liadov to make her way back over toward Elise. She de-shoulders the woman's satchel, again with care, before offering it back to her.

Mikhail pauses as he hears about the tunnel, unable to hold back a half-grin. Keeping silent for the moment, as he moves himself a little to get into a good position in the trench.

Yevgenich grunts, "We wont have our training course in it any time soon." It's a grim half joke. "Well we'll get to work Sergeant." There is still some night left, maybe they can sleep when the sun's up, damn short days.

Liadov just grunts at Liliya. Nobody said war was easy. He rips the map off the table, handing it to the nearest person — Yevgenich. "Keep that, we have more. Now, comrades." He nods west. "The pillbox on the platform is the best place to be if they shell us, so keep your heads down. Direct questions to myself or one of the junior sergeants. The engineers in the yard can fill you in on what to do with the gun. I'll see you on the front." This is dry, the front being only a few feet away.

Elise nods slightly, listening. She takes the satchel back from Liliya. "Thank you." Another nod to the sergeant. She looks around, taking stock of the surrounding area.

Novikova smiles apologetically to Liadov. "Thank you. Be safe." She nods and turns to go help although she seems to be waiting for Elise more than anyone else it seems.

Yulia gravitates towards her gun building buddies, snorting at Sokolof's remark. Rest, what a concept. She's ready to work as much as her injured arm allows. Oddly, she's looking forward to it.

Yevgenich takes a quick glance at the map before folding it up neatly and putting it in his bag. "Thank you." He murmurs, he's as amused by Liadov as the Sergeant was about the potted plant comment. "If I remember anything the bunker will be crowded, could do to stake a place." A frown, "Though there may not be much time to find an engineer and get to work." Things to do, so tired.

"It's no problem," says Liliya to Elise, before moving off a short distance from the others. Crouching down, she lays her new rifle across her thighs to give it a more thorough and uninterrupted inspection.

"To work, da," Sokolof agrees with Yevgenich. Sounding more resigned than anything else, but also willing enough. It keeps one busy, which keeps the dread at bay. He shoulders his regular rifle with a still-awkward shrug.

Elise doesn't move off to the gun-building duties right away, taking a moment to sit down with a heavy sigh. She stretches out her leg, leaning against the back of the trench. "This will be a different kind of fighting," she notes, looking up at Novi.

Yevgenich grins to Sokolof. "Something constructive to do with our hands." Better than what he's been doing recently. Though he's not horribly happy. "And a safe bunker to sleep in." Sounds good to him, he's off.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.5 License.