Words to Live By - A Countryhumans SovAme Story

Act II, Chapter I - Water the Earth

Act II - Safe in War, Where All is Fair. Dangerous in Love, Where War Seems Small.

July 1941

Near Minsk, Belarus, USSR

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Korzh. Korzh. Korzh. Korzh. Lyudmila. Lyudmila. Lyudmila. Andreyivna. Andreyivna. Lyudmila Andreyivna Korzh.

This was the name given to me in that dusty old recruitment office, the one my close friend had fabricated on the spot in order to get me into the ranks of her army. This was the name I'd hesitated on when we boarded the train, and she'd cut in with Korzh. Her name is Lyudmila Korzh. This was the name that, unknowingly to me at the time, would take me all the way to Berlin.

But as of now, private L. A. Korzh, nothing but a bag of essentials and a book in hand, was on her way directly to the front. Where? She did not even know.

I stared out the window of the freight car we'd been packed into, tight as sardines. The Russian countryside flew past at astonishing speed, and the sense of farmland that I got from the view of gently rolling hills and vast farmfields was only matched by the smell of the fresh hay beneath our feet. The other soldiers were a cheerful cargo, a mix of men and women, tankmen and foot soldiers and other snipers. They laughed, full of cocky jokes and remarks about beating Germany in mere months, as they assumed we would. In truth, I don't even know if I thought the same.

I repeated the name given to me in my head over and over, mentally reciting each letter that went into those three words. I knew it must be memorized, become routine, truly become my new name. And so over and over I recited it, mouthing each syllable with my face turned from those who would become my comrades.

Lyudmila Andreyivna Korzh. Lyudmila Andreyivna Korzh. Lyudmila Andreyivna-

I was jolted sharply out of my practice by the sound of singing. For a second I was extremely confused, whipping my head around to try and get a sense of what was going on. It was only after a moment that I realized the other soldiers were all singing a song. I did not recognize the tune; I'd overheard Soviet humming multiple songs that I assumed were patriotic melodies, but not this one. I tried to pay close attention to the words, but with their mixed-up voices and near-oppressive volume, this proved difficult. The song was lovely, though, and I found myself humming along once I got a sense of the tune. I could just pick out Soviet's voice in the crowd, a bit higher than the others'. The song came to an end after about two minutes, and someone in the car launched into another ballad of the Motherland, the rest joining in. I turned back out to the window, gently brushing my hands along the boxcar's red steel sides. It wasn't a window, really, more just the boxcar's door having been left open so it would be airy inside. The other side's door was the same, I could see. As the other soldier's voices melded into the background, forming into the same noise as the train's low, rumbling engines, I returned to my reciting.

Lyudmila Andreyivna Korzh. Lyudmila Andreyivna Korzh. Lyudmila Andreyivna Korzh.

Over and over, all the way to Belarus.

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"Back on the train, back on the train!"

I could barely hear the words of Ilya, the sergeant, over the sound of gunfire and the rumbling engines of our red train. I sprinted across the plain, desperate to not be left behind as the train moved out.

If only we had been successful, I thought, I wouldn't even be in this damn situation.

But in the end, I guessed it was the Germans I should blame.