—— Red Army Sniper ——166by a woollen scarf tied crossways across her back. Her eyes were
sad and her face wrinkled and grey. Suddenly she stopped, and,
taking a close look at us, asked: ‘What are those pretty decorations
of yours for, sons?’
‘We’re snipers. We knock out Nazis, granny,’ I answered.
‘And have you wiped out many of them?’
‘We would like it to be more. He’s accounted for 152 and I’ve
got 124.’
On hearing this, the old dear wailed almost at a chant: ‘Thank
you to you, my lovely boys! If only every soldier was like that! Then
my Victor would still be alive.. .’
‘We’ll avenge your Victor, absolutely, granny!’
‘And you must have mothers waiting for you at home?’ she
asked.
‘Too true – they’re waiting for us, of course! But excuse us,
we’re running late.’
‘Well, a pleasant journey and good luck!’ And, waving us good
bye, she went on her way. We slung our snipers’ rifles onto our
backs and hurried to the entrance.
The room our escort led us into was crowded. Knowing that
the works were continuously shelled by the enemy, I asked: ‘Isn’t it
dangerous for you to have so many people gathered in one place?’
I received the calm reply: ‘A little bit! But we’re used to it – like you,
we’ve learned not to be afraid of shelling. We’ve got shelters and
we’ve dug burrows, but the Kirov staff don’t always use them – the
work can’t wait! If we sat it out in bomb shelters, who would make
the shells and repair the tanks?’
We were seated at the presidium table, which was covered by a
calico cloth. We looked around. Sitting before us were the delegates
from the factory’s workshops, who had come straight from their
lathes clad in their greasy padded jackets, gasmasks over their
shoulders and rifles in their hands. Thin, grey and emaciated, their
faces remained stern even on this festive day.
The meeting commenced as soon as Ivan and I sat down. As if
they were just waiting for us.