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#1 12 years ago

For all the writers out there, feel free to share your work. Poetry and stories apply. Here is something I started writing a year ago. A few notes on it first.

-Many of the places and times are placeholders in the sense that they might not really be located where I say they are. This is because it is still a work in progress and the locations themselves arn't all that important. -Other historical information may be a bit off. I don't claim this is a historical work, but I don't try to go way out there or anything. -Feel free to correct any spelling errors or anythng of that kind.

Also a general note for writers. If your story is particularly long(your discretion) I please ask that you put it in spoiler tags.

Red Soldier Part 1: Uncertainty
Spoiler: Show
[INDENT]

It was a warm summer afternoon. The day had an air of peace about it. I was working outside bringing in some wood I had just chopped so my mother could begin dinner; she was already plucking the feathers out of a chicken. My father was sitting in a chair outside the house carving something. “Your brother is going to be coming home tomorrow you know” He began “We should go out hunting to bring in a real meal for him.” My brother was a pilot during the attack on Poland and he was to be returning tomorrow after more training with some new aircraft. Just then we heard the hum of engines coming up the road to the village. A cloud of dust was being kicked up by some trucks. “It looks like someone from Ponyri is coming for a visit.” My father figured “Maybe brother is coming home early?” I wondered. At that my father laughed “Like the military ever does anything early, this government moves slower then a frozen stream.” As the trucks drove up my father slowly silenced his laugh. The drivers were all soldiers and a commissar hopped out of one of the trucks. He began to speak. “Mother Russia has been attacked by the Fascist Germans!” We could hear gasps escape from everyone “Any men from this village who can walk must come with me immediately!” I heard one of my friends from down the road, Peter Antonov, call out to me. “Vassilli, it looks like we are going off to war together!” “I guess so Peter.” I turned to my mother and father and gave each of them a hug “It looks like my boy is going off to battle.” My father looked me dead in the eyes. I looked at my mother and she was close to tears. “Do not worry about me mother, I will come back alive.” I only wish I had been so sure of it. “I know my son, I know.” I walked away from that hut not knowing when, or if, I would ever see it and my family again. I headed towards the commissar who seemed to be recording people’s names as they filed past. A shorter man with brown hair was in front of me. “Name?” The commissar asked “Joseph Kamarov” The man responded “Follow the rest of them to the trucks and get on.” Now it was my turn. “Name?” The commissar asked “Vassilli Sobolov.” “All right move along and get on the trucks.” I walked a little ways down the road and came to the truck with my friend Peter on it. I hopped on. There were five other men already on the trucks. One was Joseph, the man who had been in front of me, the others included a very large man already in military clothing, I assumed he was a soldier, there were also two brothers from the village, Alex and Viktor Vonotov, and a young man who lived outside the village named Grigor Sanotov. The soldier began to speak.

“You men will soon be fighting the German bastards who have soiled the Motherland.” He looked at each of us “We must not let them reach our families; we must kill as many of them as we can. I will be your commander for the time being. We will be moving by truck to a train station three or so kilometers north of here, I’m sure many of you know the town of Ponyri. From there we will be sent by train to as close to the front was we can get you men.” I couldn’t have cared less about how many I killed; I just wanted to get back to my family, and not in a wooden box. I heard the engine of the truck turn on. We were on our way to Ponyri and the front. I had often gone with my father when he traveled to the town to deliver our crop. Unfortunately much of our crop went to the government and we could barely feed ourselves with what was left, maybe it would be better to let the Germans in. Ponyri wasn’t a huge town but compared to our village it was a metropolis. It would be good to see some of my friends who had moved out of the village when they were assigned to work on the railroad. I just hoped they hadn’t already been sent to the front or else I may never have seen them again. About an hour later we were at Ponyri. For its small size it was completely packed with men from all the nearby villages who were being sent out to the front. There were more people there then I had ever seen before. I looked around and spotted one of my friends, Pavel Warchov, he was pushing a cart loaded with guns near the train. I ran over to him “Pavel! It’s me, Vassilli.” I called to him “Vassilli! I can’t believe it. Are you being sent to the front?” He ran over and gave me a hug. “Yes some commissar came to our village and ordered us to report for war. Are they keeping you here on the rail or are you being sent to the front?” “They decided that I’m to valuable here to be sent to war so I’m going to stay on the rail line, making sure that the trains are loaded as quickly as possible. I’ll be getting training later as loadmaster for the entire station and will be in charge of each and every train that rolls in.” “That’s great Pavel, when I come back we are going to celebrate my friend!” The Sergeant called out. “Get moving! Load up the trains!” “Well it seems you must be leaving Vassili, you better come back alive.” He smiled. “Of course, because you still owe me for helping you with your father’s barn last summer. Good luck on the trains.”

I walked over to where the sergeant was standing. There were already hundreds of soldiers crammed in the train cars. “This doesn’t look like it will be comfortable Vassili.” Said Peter with a smile. Somehow, even when we were going to war, he always managed to smile. It was contagious too. “Well is war supposed to be comfortable?” I smiled back. We got onto one of the train cars that had about 70 men already on it. And more were coming on behind us. They smashed almost 100 men on that car before they slid the door close. Then the train began to rumble to life. It was a long ride to the front and there was no way we could lie down to rest. People had to move to the ends of the car to relieve themselves and by the end of the trip the car smelled worse then the barns back home. We reached the station at Minsk; we could hear loud noises going off in the distance. “Everyone off the train, now!” called out some commissar. We all tossed ourselves out the door and headed towards trucks that were parked nearby. I managed to get aboard a truck with Peter and the Sergeant, the man who had been in front of me at the village, Joseph Kamarov also was aboard this truck. The Sergeant began to hand out weapons to us. He gave Peter a rifle which he referred to as the Mosin-Nagant, I also received a rifle. The Sergeant carried a smaller weapon, I didn’t know what it was, but he gave his pistol to Joseph. “I’m sorry comrade, this is all that you will have until we receive more rifles.” the sergeant told him. “But do not worry for we will have no trouble defeating the Germans.” The trucks stopped a few hours outside the city. Again we heard the commissars yelling “Everyone get out and grab a shovel. We must dig our defenses.” I followed the sergeant and the others to an unoccupied part of the line and grabbed a shovel. “How long will it be till the Germans arrive Sergeant?” I asked “I do not know comrade, but we must dig as quickly as possible for it seems they move quite fast across the land. They have already reached Brest-Litovsk and are only a few miles away right now.” We kept digging in, knowing that the Germans will reach us very soon. In about an hour we had a full trench, along with pits for large guns and we were just starting to bring up logs to add for protection. Then we heard a loud noise overhead, I looked up and saw figures moving in the sky. I had seen aircraft before but these were beyond my wildest imagination. They had only one wing that seemed bent near the body of the plane, it moved faster then the biplanes I had seen as a child and under it was what looked like a large steel drum. “Stukas!” a few of the commissars yelled out. “Everyone get down now!” I didn’t know what a Stuka was but it didn’t sound friendly so I dove into the trench we had just dug and listened as the planes dove in at us. Then there was fire, the entire sky seemed to have lit up with a terrible burning light and I could hear a terrifying roar come from all around. Mixed in the roar were the screams of men. The planes then came in again and began firing guns at us. The bullets slammed into dirt, wood, and flesh. A round hit right next to me in the trench wall. Then they turned and left as a few men began to fire back with their rifles, to no effect. The men were dazed and confused by what had just happened. For most it was the first taste of war they had ever had, and unfortunately for many it was the last taste they would ever have. A dead body lay at my feet; it was missing a head which I found a few feet away. I had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last body I would see.

“Everyone get up and get ready, the Germans should be attacking soon.” It was the Sergeant. He and Peter made it through without a scratch. Joseph was bleeding from his arm but he looked like he would be alright. I stood up, picked up my rifle and got ready at the trench wall for whatever would come out of the woods opposite to us. I heard a squeaking behind us, it was a group of men pushing a rather large gun into one of the pits we had dug. Along the line multiple guns were being installed along with machine guns. Off to the far right I could see large log bunkers also concealing these big guns. Then I saw another fireball erupt at one of these bunkers. I turned to face the forest and saw a steel beast rolling down the crest of a hill. It held its own large gun and what looked like more machine guns sticking out from it. It must have been one of these “tanks” I had heard about on the train ride here. “Start Firing!” called the Sergeant. I began to fire at the infantry that accompanied the tanks. All along the line rifle after rifle fired, ripping apart the advancing troops as the enemy tanks raked our line with fire. One of the large guns’ burst with light and to the front one of the enemy tanks blew apart. I guess that’s what those guns were meant to be used as. The big guns kept tearing apart the smaller German tanks as our rifles and machine guns ripped through the infantry. Then I saw another enemy tank coming over the hill, its gun was bigger and was facing forward. It fired and blew apart another tank killer gun. One of our guns fired at it but it just kept rolling down the hill. Another gun blew all to hell. Two more tanks crested the hill and ran full speed into the trench, firing all of their guns at anything that moved. Gun after gun was picked off by the enemy tanks. “Fall back! We must fall back now!” One of the enemy tanks blew apart to my left as I climbed out of the rear of the trench. Hundreds of men were streaming from the trenches, many being blasted by machine guns as they ran. I ran as fast as I could in the wake of the sergeant until we reached a barn. The wall of the barn had a huge hole in it from one of the tank shells slamming into it. We made our way out the back of the barn and found our way to some small woods. With a few other soldiers we began the long trek East to Minsk. It was near to night but we knew the Germans were right behind us. We had to keep moving. “Erhalten Sie hinunter!” We heard some Germans call out. We swirled on our feet and came face to face with a German patrol. Most had rifles but a few had small guns much like the Sergeant. Again they yelled “Erhalten Sie hinunter!” Then one of them spoke in Russian “Get down! Now!” Before we could do anything one of the Germans began to fire at us. We hit the dirt and immediately returned fire. They stumbled backwards and took cover behind some trees. The Sergeant began to fire his weapon, round after round came out. The bullets seemed to come out of his gun like a whip, tearing up the trees the Germans hid behind. I looked down the barrel of my rifle, took aim at the German who called out to us, and fired. Next thing I saw was him hitting the ground, most likely dead. The Sergeant picked off another German and a private with us also picked off another, the rest fled. None of us had been hit. We walked over to the fallen Germans. The German I had shot looked me dead in the eyes. I bent over and looked at him; he was carrying a pistol and had on a watch and a locket. I gladly liberated all three from him. I opened the locket inside was a picture of a young girl, I immediately thought of Alexandria. This man is just like me, he just wanted to get home to his loved ones and I took him away from them. I hid the locket in his shirt hoping no one else would find it. “Grab their weapons and any ammo you can find on them, and your free to take what you want.” I picked up the German’s rifle and searched his pockets for ammo. He had much more ammo on him then any of us had. If they can get this much ammo how can we stand up to them. We resumed our march east, hoping we wouldn’t find any more Germans. But as we marched we heard the roar of tanks. We dropped to the ground and looked at the road to our right. A column of German tanks and trucks were heading down the road, going east. We knew we had no chance of making contact with the army stationed at Minsk. “Sergeant what will do now?” one soldier asked. “I have been given orders that if we are surrounded we are to make our own attacks against enemy supply lines. There is a small supply depot up ahead that should have some machine guns we can use to set up an ambush.” A few minutes later we reached a farmhouse. It was well hidden from the road so it hadn’t been discovered yet. In the basement we found two machine guns, grenades, and explosives. We also picked up two stolen “Panzerfausts” as the sergeant called them. They were a long tube topped with an explosive head which would fire off towards the target when the trigger was pulled. We were going to save them for enemy tanks. We took our weapons and set them up at a crossroad just a few hundred meters to the west. If need be we could fall back to the house to make a last stand.

At the crossroads there was a stream and bridge, we dug two pits on the east side of the bridge and set up the machine guns there so they could fire at whatever crossed. We wired some explosives to the bottom of the bridge to blow it if any important vehicles crossed. The rest of us took up positions on the west end of the bridge hidden in the forest. Our weapons amounted to two machine guns, two Panzerfausts, seven rifles, and the Sergeant’s sub-machine gun. Now we waited. It was almost an hour before a German convoy began to rumble down the road. At the front was one of the large tanks that had blown apart so many tank killer guns at the trenches. Behind it were two trucks and something that looked like a mix between a tank and a truck, all three were filled with troops and the lead tank also carried some Germans on it. At the rear was a small tank that had two machine guns instead of a large gun. We waited till the lead tank was over the bridge; I looked over and watched as one of my comrades hit the plunger. The bridge shattered as the explosion ripped through the belly of the tank. The hatches on the tanks blew open from the force of the explosion and the Germans riding on the tank were thrown into the stream. At that moment the two Panzerfausts slammed into the side of the tank-truck vehicle. The rear doors were thrown open and two soldiers stumbled out, both dazed and badly hurt. The soldiers had begun fleeing from the trucks into the woods, everyone else open fired on them. The machine guns cut the Germans down as they climbed out of the trucks and what they missed our rifles finished. While all this was going on the tank at the rear made it into the woods opposite myself and was heading towards the stream. It flanked far enough around that it was able to open fire on our two machine gun positions; we no longer had anything that could get through its skin. My comrades on our side of the road flanked right around the devastated convoy and made its way to the rear of the tank, we had to destroy it but we didn’t know how. I saw something out of the corner of my eye; it was another Panzerfaust lying in the dirt. It must have come from the convoy. I sprinted over to it, picked it up, tucked it under my arm, and got closer to the tank. It was still firing on the machine gun pits and hadn’t noticed me coming up behind it. I looked at the picture on the side of the Faust which showed how to fire it. I tucked the tube under my arm, lifted the sights up, aimed, and fired. The round blew off towards the tank, the next thing I knew the rear of the tank had become a ball of fire. We went past the burning tank to check if any of our comrades at the gun were injured. I got to the first pit and looked down to see a riddled face looking at me. The soldier had multiple holes through is skull and face, along with the rest of his body. His right arm was sheared clean off. The incredible pain this man must have gone through, and the incredible pain his family would feel upon finding out, it hardened me. I would not put my loved ones through that kind of hell. “Get off your asses and let’s get going.” called the Sergeant “Get those machine guns and any ammo you can find. “Sergeant! Shouldn’t we bury these men?” I asked “They gave their lives for us, it’s only right that we don’t leave them for some Germans to loot.” “No we must move now. It’s only a matter of time before the Germans come marching down this road and we don’t want to be there when they do. Now let’s get moving!” I looked down at the men in the dirt. Good luck with the Germans. I followed my comrades into the wood. We went back to the weapons depot and restocked our guns. We also stocked up on what food we could find sitting around. The Sergeant pointed at two soldiers. “You two grab some explosives for later and then wire the rest of it around the house. We can’t let the Germans have the weapons we’ve left here, or the food. Once we leave here we will head east to try to link up with the rest of our army.” The soldiers grabbed a pack of explosives each and then placed the rest around the house. The rest of us set up a little ways off from the house while they were getting it ready to be demolished. “Your name is Vassili right?” The soldier next to me asked “Yes it is.” “My name is Misha, I was aboard the truck with you on the way out of Minsk. I saw what you did to that tank back there, quite the shot you are.” “Why thank you comrade.” “It sounds like the Germans have a lot of tanks so I hope we have more soldiers who can shoot like you with one of those things.” The two soldiers who were planting the explosives came running up. “It’s all set, everyone get down.” We all crested the hill and lied down to watch. “It should be blowing any mi-,” An explosion louder then even the one at the bridge ripped apart the air. The house was engulfed in a ball of fire and a wave of heat slammed into us. Debris fell all around us. Even after it had blown a few more explosions went off, the Panzerfausts in the heat. Nothing was left from the house. The Sergeant yelled out. “The Germans sure as hell heard that one. We better get moving!” We marched off to the east, hoping we would find our comrades. Little did we know it would be many days before we ever saw them again. Until then, we were on our own.

[/INDENT]

It mgith be easier to read in the attached word document.




Huffardo

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#2 12 years ago

That story is quite good actually, I could easily have taken it for something written by a professional author, although a few things indeed felt a bit historically inaccurate (especially all those Panzerfausts that early in the war when none existed) nothing of it is likely to disturb the average reader. The conversation at the end feels a bit forced, perhaps you could try to make it a bit more natural, but then it might just be my lack of understanding of Soviet conversation and the English language.




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#3 12 years ago
Huffardo;3276609That story is quite good actually, I could easily have taken it for something written by a professional author, although a few things indeed felt a bit historically inaccurate (especially all those Panzerfausts that early in the war when none existed) nothing of it is likely to disturb the average reader. The conversation at the end feels a bit forced, perhaps you could try to make it a bit more natural, but then it might just be my lack of understanding of Soviet conversation and the English language.

Thanks for the advice. One of the problems I have is making something sound like an real conversation, yet still make it logical for a book. I know you want to avoide really quick changing dialoge in a story because it will either be confusing as to who is talking, or repetitive after reading the words "he said" or "she said" over and over again. But at the same time you don't want to make the dialoge too slow or else it sounds like a speech instead of conversation.

One thing I just noticed in the post is that the italics didn't show. I had a good bit of it in there to show when someone was thinking to themselves so I don't think I will go back to add it all in. However it should be alot easier to rea din the .doc itself.




Aeroflot

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#4 12 years ago

Here's something stupid I was writing last night around 12am. I was bored, so I just started writing a short story. It really has no point, I just made stuff up as I went along. Anyways, It's not a complete story.

My GIJoe By Thom Ervin

[INDENT] Like a sunken treasure at the bottom of the ocean – so hard to reach, yet so irresistible to keep away from – the shinny twenty-five cent piece just sat there, gleaming at my eyes. The American quarter: one-fourth of a dollar, one-fourth of a coke, one-fourth of a hamburger at Jack-in-the-Box, and one-fourth of the remaining dollar I need to buy the latest-greatest toy in the world: the GI-Joe paratrooper with working parachute and accessories.

All my friends have it, I told my mom; so she ended up giving me half the money I required… after I finished a few chores, of course. I only needed to raise ten more dollars. Mom would have made me work more to earn the rest, but she said that she wouldn’t go to the bank until next week to take out more money. Dad was out of town, so my only option seemed to be either mowing neighbors’ lawns, or becoming a paperboy. I chose the latter out of curiosity.

Mr. Douglas, the man in charge of hiring young “paper cadets,” said that he had an opening recently for a paperboy to deliver several streets down from my own house; I was lucky to obtain such a location. The route started over near Andy Cooper’s house and ended nine blocks down, sort of in the direction of the elementary school. Nine blocks, no sweat, I initially thought. However, the future had more in store for me. GI-Joe would have to wait some time before I could liberate him.

My bike wasn’t extraordinary. It did not have handlebar breaks, nor did it have a very comfortable seat. But, I liked it all the same. My dad actually taught me to ride on this very bike, so that might give some indication of the age of the “noble steed.”[/INDENT]

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Afterburner Thanks for the advice. One of the problems I have is making something sound like an real conversation, yet still make it logical for a book. I know you want to avoide really quick changing dialoge in a story because it will either be confusing as to who is talking, or repetitive after reading the words "he said" or "she said" over and over again. But at the same time you don't want to make the dialoge too slow or else it sounds like a speech instead of conversation.

One thing I just noticed in the post is that the italics didn't show. I had a good bit of it in there to show when someone was thinking to themselves so I don't think I will go back to add it all in. However it should be alot easier to rea din the .doc itself.

The way you made the conversation, you didn't put in enough detail ("stuff"), that's why it sounds awkward. You shouldn't put all that dialog in clumps like that.




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#5 12 years ago

You should acually keep writing that. It is pretty good and I feel like finishing it. My only suggestion would be to introduce the bike. It is a bit confusing when you just jump to it like that.

The way you made the conversation, you didn't put in enough detail ("stuff"), that's why it sounds awkward. You shouldn't put all that dialog in clumps like that.

That seems about right. I think I might have made the mistake of slapping the conversation in to take up "time" while the soldiers were setting up to blow the building. I'll either add some more detail or swap it out for a more detailed description of the house or the area.




Aeroflot

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#6 12 years ago

Afterburner;3276686

That seems about right. I think I might have made the mistake of slapping the conversation in to take up "time" while the soldiers were setting up to blow the building. I'll either add some more detail or swap it out for a more detailed description of the house or the area.

Yeah.

Writing is much different from movies and live action. Writing relies more on description, whereas movies use dialog, because we can 'see' the setting.

Don't be afraid of combining first person dialog with the main body of the text, for instance:

When I walked outside my airconditioned house, I entered a humid alien environment. Rob looked over and asked me if I wanted to go back inside, but I replied with a stern "no."