Austin Munroe

The Last Day of Stalingrad

The wind blew softly as the winter snow fell in light fakes. It is February first, the
day when all things start to end. The war is continuing past acceptable lengths, the
battle of Stalingrad must come to end, even if it means the death of many Russians.
This is the story of the last day of the battle of Stalingrad.
My name is Pavlov Belyakov, I am in my 20 years old and was drafted into the
Red Army. I opened my eyes to the sound of deep peaceful snores. Few men were
awake. Most were deep asleep, snoring and quietly shifting. I am used to this and laid
silently, knowing that shifting would only lead to the protest of those around me. I had
come to enjoy this routine in the early morning and enjoyed it more and more as the war
drew on. I was given little training on military customs, but merely how to aim, fire and
reload a rifle and all of this was during a train stop on the way to Stalingrad. I used the
morning time when all the other men were in a deep sleep to think over how my life had
changed from being a simple farm hand, with no family, to a soldier in the Red Army not
likely to come home with both legs. I knew that the conditions were bad when I came,
the talk about the war, how men came back with nothing but a empty and broken shell of
there former self. I could remember well the fear that overcame me when I stepped out
of the train car, it was overpowering and paralyzing. The blood that cover the ground,
the noise of guns, the planes and bombs over powered the yelling of the the men and
the crying of civilians. I watched in horror as men were forced into boats that crossed
the river Boira to the city of Stalingrad. Among the noise there was the smells of death.
The metallic scent of blood filled the air as doctors moved lifeless corpse away on
makeshift stretchers.
I stood watching, I was simply overwhelmed by what I was seeing in front of me.
As I stood there the men behind me began to run, away from the train that brought us
here and towards the boats that would deliver us to our death. I can remember looking
into the eyes of the men around me and seeing the fear that they felt. At first I thought,
Why are they running to their deaths? Then, I saw the the officers. Menacing their
rifles, forcing us to take up arms against an unseen enemy. I could remember it so
clearly, the guns, smoke and screams. I shifted back to the barracks. Some men slowly
began to shift and move, opening their eyes and gathering their thoughts. It had been
six weeks to the day that I had been drafted. In that entire time I had never taken the
time to try to make friends. I had never tried to make friends with the men in my
regimen, most seemed empty, without the spark of life. As I contemplated the war and

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how he had come to take his part in it, the officers from the regiment came in to the
barracks blowing whistles. This is how every morning starts for the men and soldiers of
Stalingrad. With the whistles blown, the men wake and the day begins. Many let out
moans of displeasure just to show that they do not want to be woken this early and in
the attempt to sleep more and fight less. I feel my back ache as I sit up. The barracks
were flooded with light as the small oddly shaped door held open by Sergeant Akim.
Sergeant Akim is a stout little man with few years in the army, and has scars to prove it,
he used little word to describe his feeling and keeps it at that. Within 6 weeks of service
under Sergeant Akim I had come to respect him. With the light drawing all my attention,
I stand on shaky legs feeling the effort in my knees and start walking through the small
sea of bodies to join Segment Akim at the door.
Neither Akim or I said anything as we walked off towards the mess. Akim and I
grabbed what we could find in the almost empty bins of butter and bread. I look down at
the bread, feeling the texture with my hands. The bread leaves something to be desired
in my mouth, and the everlasting desire for a warm meal creeps further into my gut,
amplifying my diastase for the simple, old bread. I look over to see a similar look on
Akims face. We both blow it off and leave to find the orders for the day. The ground
around us is flat, mostly worn with the boot tracks of their comrades and the scorch
marks of bombs. This section that there were stationed was mostly outside the city and
saw no real action any more, but was mostly the staging area for troops and supplies for
the more critical sections that were under fire from the Germans. As we approach the
war tents we hear the buzzing of motors. They get louder with each passing second. I
look up to find three planes bearing down on this section of the city. I look at Akim and
an invisible conversation takes places we both know what this means, the fronts are
weakening. The planes continue to bare down on us. Turning to Akim I yell, Run! We
both take off in the opposite direction of the planes hoping to find cover somewhere in
the ruins of city. There! About 200 yards away, closer to the city, is the remains of an
old home. The house was a small modest home which despite being only one story and
small would have made a quaint little house if it wasn't for the scorch marks and the
caved in roof. We bust through the burnt door and head for the cellar. All the while the
sounds of yelling men, the high pitched sound of bombs falling and the shots of guns
filled the air leaving no room for anything else on the harmonic scale. Akim and I dive
into the basement searching for cover. Only minutes later the bombs stop. The sounds
die away. I stand up from the floor of the cellar and feel for something in the dark. Its
completely dark inside with no windows. The door must have closed when the came in.
Listening I can hear my own heartbeat, beating like a drum, it felt as if it might burst.

Austin Munroe
Along with sound of my own beating heart was the slow haggard berating of Akim. His
breath came out in slow short gasp. Listening I try to locate Akim with in only my ears.
With slow short steps I walk towards the sound of Akims breathing. I yell his name but
there is no response. I found my way over to Akims head a started talking to him, trying
to get a reaction. Some sign of his condition. Bending over his chest, ever so carefully,
I listen for the sound of his beating heart. Akims heart is weak but steady, beating just
enough to keep the blood moving. Slowly I stand up extending my arms out to and
begin feeling for the wall, with the slow steps in front of me I find and brick wall worn
from the years and never plastered over, just left unfinished. With this new sense of
direction I find the threshold of the door that lead us to this dark room. Gasping for the
handle I find nothing but the mechanism in which the handle us to be. Doing the
sensible thing I kick the door in. The door gave a loud crack as the door broke into two
pieces that fell to the ground with a loud smack. Looking ahead the stairs that lead to
the seller, that Akim and I failed to take were covered with dust from the plaster wall
which shook from the German bombs. Bounding up the fight of stars and through the
front door and out side. The ground is filled with craters. With quick recovery I run to
the medical tent stationed close to the barracks. Back tracking the steps I had taken,
run knowing that finding help for Akim was the best thing I could do. After running for
the better part of 15 minutes I found the medical tent. Swarms of patents were being
helped bind wounds and other inflections.
Immediately I jump in trying to find someone with a stretcher to help me get Akim
out of the cellar. I spot the back end of a stretch moving in and out of the mass,
Running up I grab the end. It stops with a quick jerky stop and the head of a young boy
become visible in the constant jumble of of body parts. He looks at me with a desperate
glance and attempts to put the stretcher away from me. But, I hold tight. With the boy
looking more frightened with each passing moment, I yell so as to make my voice heard
over the crowd,
I need you, There is a man out there who need our help.
There is a moment of hesitation before the boy replays.
I have my orders and I plan to stick to them said the boy.
Please I need your help. my voice turning more desperate.
And why should I help you?
Because I need your help, my comrade is hurt badly and needs help
With that the boy became softer, releasing his grip on the stretcher. I garbed the it and
forced myself towards the the nearest exit. The boy and I meet up outside the tent, he
grabbed the rear and I the front and together we set off at a brisk pace, heading in the

Austin Munroe
most direct route towards the cellar that held Akim. We made it back it decent time. As
we were moving through the house towards the cellar. I thanked the boy for diverting
his time to save a dying man he did not know. The boy merely replied,
It was the right thing to do, I just hope that in the future you will help me.
Yes, of course, I said When the time comes I will repay the debt.
Walking into the cellar and stepping over the door I found Akim laying on his back. The
light from the upstairs provided enough light to see Akim and his surrounding. The floor
was also brick left rough never smoothed with plasters. The light from the doorway
made it look old dark, the dust dispersed the light everywhere making the edges soft.
each of us takes up positions on either sides Akim, standing over Akim we try to grip the
edge of his uniform. Slowly, pulling him up just a few inches we move him towards the
stretcher. With one quick movement we had him on the stretcher ready to get him back
to the medical tent. It took twice the time but with careful steps and consideration we
make it back. With Akim back in the safe hands of the medics, I headed for a small
patch of sun in the grass away from the confusion and death. With a comfortable
places I fell asleep in minutes. I escaped the outside world only to find my own hell
inside. I dreamt of my first real combat. The entire regiment was sent to reinforce one
of the small front where many of our own men need sleep and care before they could
fight again. We walked to our deaths. The Germans had redoubled their efforts to push
the front back and had succeeded. When we arrived there was nothing but rubble and
bodies lining the street. When we arrived the Germans pinned us down leaving escape
highly unlikely and death almost certain. With the Germans holding us down we could
not run. The street was littered with rubble and glass. The shops front windows had
been blown. Hiding behind the old cars and building, our own men started to return fire.
Many fell if they exposed to much of themselves. I can remember the fear, the blood
and the sweat. Each perching my heart as I lay trying to overcome the need to run in
the opposite direction. I felt a hand reach over and grab my uniform. It was the first
time had meet Sergeant Akim. He looked me in the eye and said, Don't worry, we'll
find a way out of this.
I just looked at him as if he were a crazy man. Akim being the experienced soldier,
raised his rifle and began to fire. Choosing his targets quickly, he picked off six German
soldiers before they realized. Once they saw Akim behind the overturned car the stayed
down. Then without warning, Akim grabbed my sleeve and pulled me into the air and
across the street to the remains of a store. The glass had been short and lay on the
ground in many small sharp fragment. With one moment we were on the floor of the
shop. The car he had used for cover was now in flames. The Germans had used
grenades set the car on fire.

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This man had saved my life without any thought to himself. Without him I would
have died there, my story would have ended. With that I woke up from the little sun
puddle which had moved a few feet away. I went to check in on Akim, feeling that no
matter what, I owe him everything. I found him siting up on his cot. The sun just
starting to pass noon. Akim looked at me, a new scar lined his face, right from his right
eyebrow, to his right side of his jaw. This new scare, the look in his eye and the look of
defeat and sadness. The effect that Akim had, the sadness he projected out has that of
defeat and embarrassment. I felt the need to start a conversation,
How you feeling after that fall of yours? I asked. hoping to get more than a two word
response.
I am feeling better, thanks to you, he said What ever happened?
You don`t remember? The Germans were bombing this section of the city. We dove
into that cellar.
I don't remember any of that said Akim, A look of confusion crossed his face.
Well it looks like you're doing fine now.
Yeah except for the headache and not remembering the last few hours of my life.
Did The doctors tell you anything?
No they just left me here.
Well I hope you remember.
As do I.
I left it at that as I walked around finding work and helping where needed before
wandering to the barracks. After leaving leaving Akim to his thought in the medical tent,
I went back to my simple blanket in the barracks. Looking to find some comfort in my
life. To retreat into the only place left untouched, my mind. I retreated into my mind. In
my mind I tried to recreate the what happened with Akim. Trying to see what I could
have done to keep Akim from getting hurt. I played everything over and over. Looking
for something I could I of done to save one of the few people that I had connected to. It
played it over and over till exhaustion finally took me.
The next day the alarms sounded. The sound pounded my ears and resonated
inside of me. Without thinking and as quick as a bird I was standing up. Acting quick
and with grace, I worked my way out of the mass of men and towards the door.
Everyone else had a similar experiences and was moving towards the door with as
much grace and speed as possible. The thing about being a soldier was that you were
never prepared for a fight, no matter how much time you spent in the war you were
never prepared. With the morning still in my eyes I run outside. The sound of gunfire

Austin Munroe
echoes throughout city and the ground shakes as bombs exploded overhead. Officers
guide the men to the armory, firing pistols into the air to evoke fear. At first we were
spread out but as we moved the towards the outfitter but the group became packed as
we moved forward. We were herded like dogs, without remorse and thought. Some
were given rifles other grenades. The value and expected life of a soldier was so low
that they would not finance weapons of both for all the men. Half the men that walked
out of the armory had a rifle and the other half a single grenade. As I walked through, a
SVT-40 rifle was briskly pushed into my open arms. I was pushed through the open
doorway at the rear by the flow of men. Seamed to be hundreds, pushing scraping and
clawing for a weapon, hoping to survive. I felt like a Ford model T through an assembly
line. Men I don't know forced me through, pushing and touching. I was pushed to the
side, out on to the open of a city street. There were buildings, but none were standing
like they use to. Window panes were broken. Doors collapsed in, walls as well. Bricks
were broken, blasted apart from the bombs that fell. It is a shame to see such a
beautiful city taken apart from this war. Those armed were formed into ranks of rows of
five. I was formed in with the ranks. Together we marched. As we marched, high
ranking officers yelled with horns, giving orders and guiding the column, You will not
turn back said the officers. You will fight for the Motherland and its people. We will
take back the city from the Germans! For the Motherland! The officers repeated this
as we marched on, simply restating what the superiors told them.
I marched, with men on either side, and together we moved. I felt like cattle,
herded to the chopping block. I tried to keep that image out of my mind as I walked on.
I could see the same look on every other face around me. But together we marched, as
one, knowing that death was a likely outcome for most of us. Thats just how it works in
war. After an hour of walking we can to a open square. The square was about 400
yards in each direction, with a single streets on each side. The Germans were lined out
on the other side of the square. At the far end 150 soldiers each lined up side by side.
Hiding around the corner from the square we wait. The officers wait remaining silent,
waiting for the entire column to come to a stop. I look around at the men around me.
Using basic math I add up how many of us there are. There are only 50 men including
me. This is not good, for the first time we are outnumbered and outgunned. I see
Sargent Akim half way down the column, his head has a single bandage wrapped
around it. As my eyes focused on Akim I was suddenly snapped back as the whole
group charged ahead to fight the Germans. I ran with them, in the middle of the pack.
As the group spread out, the sound of gun shots echoed around the square. On both
sides men fell but mostly on ours. The Germans remained standing without moving,

Austin Munroe
firing their rifles. As I ran, men fell on both sides of me. Blood gurgling form wounds in
their chest. The ground was filled with craters just big enough for men to crawl into.
Knowing that I would not survive much longer in the open, I dive for the nearest crater.
Landing on my stomach and sliding into the base of a crater. The crater was about 5
feet in across and deep enough to sit up in. My first reaction was to close my eyes as I
landed and as I opened up my eyes all my scenes came into focus, gun shots cracked
like lighting, smoke and blood covered up the scent of fear and sweat. I leaned up on
the side of the crater so I could see my fellow comrades faces as they ran to their
deaths. Within the group running was Akim, upon seeing each other we made eye
contact. Akim broke away from the group sliding like a home run into the crater and
landing on his chest. Letting out a grunt as he worked his way to a sitting position next
to me. Looking at me he said, Well isn't this a fine mess weve gotten ourselves into?
I nod, trying to keep my nerves from getting the better of me. The sound of gunshots
got louder. I eased myself up the side of the crater peaking over the side. The
Germans were advancing now, they had only lost a small portion of their men, while we
had lost most of ours . The soldiers of the Red Army lay in small pools of there own
blood, scattered out among the battle ground. The shouts of our own officers echoed
around the square and the sound of gunshots racked the air. My nerves were so raw
that very shot made me flinch. Akim began firing. Rising his rifle over his head firing
backwards, he hoped to hit something moving. Reaching over I slap Akims arm and yell
STOP, STOP. Thats doing no good and now they know we're here! As if on cue
shots were fired and bullets filled the ground around are hiding place. I ducked down
farther. Just praying that the germans miss. My mind flashes to the first time when
Akim saved my life, from a grenade and just for an instant I feared that this time I would
die.
Thoughts raced through my head, thoughts of dying, of the war and the countless
fears rushing through me. Without thinking, I grabbed Akims elbow and give it a yank.
Akim and I ran in the opposite direction of the Germans, fleeing with pure desperation to
survive. As we ran, bullets hit the ground on both sides of us leaving holes the size of
my thumb imprinted in the ground. The square was not just flat and empty. The
wreckage old tanks and timber frame was piled in clusters around the square. We
weaved around some of these clusters using them for cover from the bullets that
followed. It occurred to me that soldiers from earlier in the war had placed these here
when the front began. The distance from the street to us was closing only about 50
yards now. Then suddenly another gun shot rang out, piercing my ears like nothing
else. At the same time blood and gore sprang out from Akims chest spraying in a wide

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arc. Akim landed on his face on the hard ground, unmoving and motionless. A scream,
purely based on fear left my lips without my consent. And with that scream I came to
sudden stop beside the body of my comrade. Ducking down to avoid the Germans. I
looked at Akim, looking for any sign of life but he remained still. I turn him over, hoping
more than anything to find him still breathing. But he is not, for one of the first times in
my life tears rush down my face. Tears of complete sadness rush down my face and
landed on the soiled uniform of the one person that showed any interest or concern for
me, Sargent Akim. I weeped, and as I weeped, time slowed around me, the sounds
became hoarse whispers and my vision began to blur. I fell back on to my side, tears
rushing down my face and for the first time I remembered feeling, loss, regret and
desolation. And that was the last I remember, I woke up a day later in the medical tent,
my side was wrapped in bandages and my head had knot the size of a grape. The men
next to me told me that I was dragged off out of the square to safety. They also told me
that the war was over, the Germans were surrounded and over powered. Stalingrad
was ours now and even from here you could hear the sound of cheering and laughter.
And even thought I was happy that I could go home to what little I had left, part of me
was still in that square, weeping over the dead body of a fine man, Sargent Akim.