The New Order: First Days of New

An Evening at the Lake - Barnaul, Russia. '87

It had been just a year ever since Shukshin returned to Barnaul to have a picnic with his good pal, Kerzhakov. He saw the Russian tricolour wave above buildings, and many Russians finally living their ordinary lives after the warlord era and years of war. It only took Shukshin just a few seconds to realise that he was being talked to.

"Vasily, you 'oughta to snap out of your daydreaming." said Kerzhakov. "Stop focusing on the river. Let's talk about something. Besides, you invite me here once a year, yes?"

"Of course." Vasily replied in a shaky voice, "I'm just admiring how far we've gone."

"You mean how far you've gone?" Kerzhakov took a sip of his opened bottle of Vodka, before taking a bite of a lightly salted cracker. The birds were heard chirping, something that Shukshin and his Russian people had never heard for a while since the Nazis reigned over Russia. Shukshin snapped a smile towards Kerzhakov.

"I couldn't have gone further without your help and the help of Pokryshkin." Shukshin began to open up his lunch, a lightly toasted BLT and a new brand of Russian potato chips. "Damn, I forgot a beverage."

"You always forget a beverage, might as well sip out of the river, huh?" Kerzhakov cracked a joke, simutaneously chuckling and shooting out few pebbles of the cracker he had bit. "Man, ever since the Germans ruled the western side of Russia, nobody could even crack jokes like me these days. Bet they still think they're still under the watchful eye of Speer?"

Shukshin shrugged, raising his eyebrow, "I made sure that they were liberated. Our flag means something to them. Russia only for Russians." It had been only five years ever since the intense battle with Germany and her ridiculous allies. Many Russian lives had been lost, but also the lives of Belarusians, Ukrainians, and hell; the Germans.

"Do you think they'll get over the new culture shock since we liberated them?" Kerzhakov questioned Shukshin seriously, waiting for an answer to come out.

"Of course they will. They should've been already! The moment the army came into Moscow, all of the Moscow Russians immediately joined the force." Shukshin laughed, but Kerzhakov didn't. Shukshin continued his laughter before returning to his normal phase, allowing Kerzhakov to question again.

"Ever since we kicked the Germans out, we began a deportation of them from Russia. Are you sure that was a good idea? The people didn't seem to like it at all-" Shukshin interrupted Kerzhakov, "Are you serious? That's something a collaborator would say! The people did like it, the Germans don't belong in Russia."

Kerzhakov didn't continue, he got his answer. Despite Shukshin's friendly insult, he smiled as the sun beamed off his vision to his left, turning to Shukshin again with a smile.

"Did you ever regret it, Vasily?"

"Regret what?" Shukshin replied, looking a little confused.

"The war? The hundreds of thousands of Russian lives lost?"

"If I had the ability to resurrect the dead, I would award every single one of my men the highest medal to offer."

"Do you regret supporting the Polish? You may be pushing the Germans to escalate this further." Kerzhakov began to get serious, as Shukshin's straight face began to turn towards a smile.

"No, not at all."

"Do you regret transforming Russia into this way?"

"No."

"Do you regret all of...'it'?"

Shukshin clearly knew what Kerzhakov was saying, he thought about it for a second, then a second turned to seconds, seconds turned to minutes. Kerzhakov turned back to the river, taking a bite of another cracker or two, before Shukshin chuckled, forcing Kerzhakov to turn back towards him.

"No, not at all."