There was light up ahead from a small hole in the pipe. It wasn’t that big, but when he peeked through it he could see a room below containing a group of men. This was exciting, sneaking up on people who had no idea he was there. Grinning to himself in the darkness, Peter strained his eyes to see as much as he could. Well, they were soldiers alright, all wearing the same dirty uniform, and he could see guns too. One soldier was trying to look out the window, without being seen from outside. Peter could have taught him a thing or two about that, since children were a lot better than adults at hiding and spying.
Two soldiers were hunched over a box on the floor; one was talking into a telephone while his friend was writing in his notebook. Two more soldiers sat on the floor cleaning their rifles. They smoked and talked to one another in low murmurs. None of the men appeared to be enjoying themselves, but then the Russian soldiers didn’t seem very happy either, although the sergeant was nice and friendly to him. Peter was glad he wasn’t a soldier; it looked really boring. He was about to start pushing himself backwards when a sudden movement in a corner of rubble caught his eye. What was that? Inching himself forward another tiny bit, he waited to see it again. There! Something was definitely there. The soldiers hadn’t noticed anything, but Peter was on red alert. Moving his head this way and that, he wished someone would push the broken bricks out of the way. Whatever it was, it was darting up between them and disappearing immediately after. Wait a minute, he knew what it was, it’s a rat! And he was the only one who knew it was there. It’s spying on the soldiers just like him; isn’t it clever? Wait until I tell Yuri I saw a rat and I wasn’t afraid of it!
Peter had been quite scared of the rats in the sewer. They were so big and there were so many of them, but here it was different. Nothing could touch him while he was all the way up here. The rat edged itself out through a tiny crack, stood up on its two back legs, its nose daintily prodding the air, and still, no one noticed it. Peter felt giddy as he stiffened his body to catch every single second of the fun. However, his jam-packed nose was annoying him so he instinctively did a big sniff to suck the gooey snot back up inside his head and out of the way. Ah, that was better.
In an instant he knew he had done something wrong, though really all he had done was sniff his nose and there was nothing wrong with that. But perhaps he shouldn’t have since the soldier who had been staring out the window was now staring hard at the ceiling. He said something to the two who were cleaning their rifles, and they peered up too. Peter wondered if he should go back now, but then felt the word NO vibrate through his entire being, so he stayed put. His cheeks were red with shame; he really did not want to get into trouble. Forgetting all about the rat, he pretended he was one of the laughing children at the fountain who couldn’t ever move no matter how frightened they got. The soldier at the window raised his rifle in Peter’s direction and, for a second, or two, nobody stirred or said a word. Peter felt his heartbeat quicken and it hurt to breathe quietly. He was afraid of getting caught, making the Germans angry and upsetting the sergeant and Yuri. Not even the gun aimed at the area around his head prompted him to worry about anything worse than that.
One of the soldiers sitting on the floor exchanged a glance with his friend and got to his feet, his rifle pointing in the same direction. Peter’s scalp began to itch. It started off as a little niggle just above his ear, and stretched into a full-blown, head-thrashing kind of itch, where it felt like every hair on his head was being tugged by hungry lice.
Meanwhile, all Yuri could do was wait with the sergeant and his corporal, which wasn’t as easy as it sounded. He asked, ‘If something happens, can we fetch him back straight away? Will we be able to hear him if he needs us?’
The sergeant kept himself too busy to look at Yuri, taking his time to find a cigarette in his pocket and then begin a second search for his box of matches, eventually saying, ‘Oh… sure, sure.’
Yuri was not comforted by this answer. It was as if he had asked if the sky was blue, and the sergeant hadn’t bothered checking outside to discover that the sky was actually grey with dark clouds; he’d merely said blue since most people believed that blue was the nicest colour for the sky, and, therefore, the nicest answer of all.
Yuri sat down to wait but then stood back up again. Needing to move around, he walked over to a window to gaze through it.
‘Wouldn’t do that, son,’ warned the sergeant, as his corporal seemed ready to tackle him to the ground. ‘There are snipers everywhere, especially in this area.’
Feeling more than a little embarrassed, Yuri returned to where he had been sitting. ‘Sorry!’
The sergeant settled himself onto a few of the bigger bricks and began to blow rings of smoke towards the sky. ‘It’s all about learning lessons, at the end of the day. What’s your name anyway?’
‘Yuri. Yuri Bogdanov.’
‘Well, Yuri Bogdanov, have you heard of the legendary Vasily Zaitsev, our top sniper?’
Yuri replied, ‘No, sir.’
The corporal, who had been watching him rather suspiciously, asked, ‘Do you know what a sniper is?’
Blushing guiltily, Yuri hated admitting, ‘Well, no. Not really.’
‘Huh!’ the corporal exclaimed. ‘Thought as much!’
The sergeant smiled at both their sulky faces. ‘Really, Rodimtsev, why would he know? He’s not in the army, is he?’ Taking a puff of his cigarette, he went on to explain, ‘A sniper is a special soldier with perfect eye-sight, a steady hand, a great deal of patience and, of course, his rifle. His job is to hide somewhere, if necessary for days on end, in order to get as close as possible to the Fritzes to shoot as many as he can. He has to lie completely still since any movement will attract the attention of the German sniper who is looking, in turn, to kill him.’
Ignoring the corporal’s smirk, Yuri nodded at the sergeant, grateful for the lesson.
‘Now, our Vasily has his own system. He uses a shop dummy, wearing bits of Red Army uniform, and positions it where the Germans will see it. Naturally they think it’s a Russian sniper and they fire at it from wherever they are hiding, in other words letting Vasily know exactly where they are. And that’s how he always gets his man.’ The sergeant took a long pull on his cigarette. ‘Never forget this, Yuri, the best plan is usually the simplest one.’
A second or two passed while Yuri thought about this and then his eyes flickered once more to the pipe. Noting this, the sergeant asked, ‘How long has it been now, Rodimtsev?
‘Twelve minutes, sir.’
‘Hmm, early days yet, I’d say. Wouldn’t you agree?’
The corporal grimaced. ‘With all respect, sir, you did tell him to take his time.’
His superior blinked heavily and sighed, ‘Yes, Corporal Rodimtsev, I certainly did, because it didn’t make sense to have the child stumble and be riddled with bullets before he had a chance to tell us anything!’
Yuri swallowed a gasp and shot Rodimtsev the dirty look he deserved. ‘Sir?’ A question had just occurred to him and he felt the sergeant just might be able to answer it. ‘When will it – the war – be over?’
The man stubbed out his cigarette on the ground beside him and said, ‘As soon as we clobber the Nazis, Yuri, as soon as that. But I tell you this much, we have to win.’
Yuri was not impressed with being told something that was all too obvious. Of course they had to win the war, what was the point otherwise? The sergeant decided to explain some more, ‘Hitler is overcoming all his enemies, country by country. So, it is up to us to stop him. We have got to win this battle, Yuri. The world is holding its breath because if he takes Stalingrad, it makes it easier for him to take Russia, and if he takes Russia, then God help us all. In other words, this city is playing host to one of the most important battles ever to take place.’