I sat in the tree as the Nazi patrollers marched below me. This was not their land. This was proud Russia they were trespassing on now. My family and I could not migrate in time and so we are left here to fight for the Soviet Union and Stalin in our own way.

I send a call back through the leaves behind me, quickly jumping up into the thicker leaves as one of the soldiers looks up to my perch, cocking his gun and firing three shots, one of which skims my bare ankle, causing me to wince. I stick my hand into my mouth to stop the pain escaping my lips, before looking down to comrades below me, steadily creeping up to the Nazis’ position.

The first shot fired hit my assailant in the cranium and a fight of attrition ensued, the Germans firing blindly into the brush as the partisans continued to advance, led by Matvey.

After the last shot was fired into a Nazi skull I jumped down from my perch. Dimitry was dead and Zoya wounded.
“Send word to the Party, Alexei,” Matvey said to me; “For again, we are victorious.”