After a time the children became more animated. The girl rummaged through the cupboard and various boxes and addressed Oleksander with a host of questions. It was apparent she was looking for a utensil to open the fish tin but with no luck as yet. During her search she had discovered four small sunflower seed cakes wrapped in a towel. To Angst’s bemusement, the fear and concern for the dilemma they found themselves in had all but evaporated. Perhaps, with all the terrors and disappointments life had dealt them thus far, the children had simply learned to exist in the moment. And at this moment, nothing mattered, other than finding the means to end the ache in their empty bellies.
Through the course of all the activity, Angst understood the girl’s name to be Daryna, as the old man repeatedly addressed her. The older boy was Mykola, and the runt was called Lev. Daryna broke apart a sunflower cake and gave half to each boy. She stood at the head of the bed and looked down upon Schroeder. His eyes were closed but that was not enough of a confirmation to indicate he was actually asleep. Daryna hovered like a nervous swallow and then placed a cake on the bed near the corporal’s shoulder. She stepped quickly away so as not to become ensnared, then crossed the room and offered a cake to Angst. In spite of her youth, Daryna was fully developed—magnificently so. Angst was not blind to her physical charms, but the mantle of girlhood still enveloped her. To be moved by desire was terribly easy, but to act on it went beyond lechery. It was criminal. Detwiler had disgraced himself for the second time in Angst’s presence. He wouldn’t get another chance. There wasn’t much he could do for these kids, but one thing Angst silently promised the girl was that he’d keep Detwiler off her, no matter what the cost. Then again, with the situation as it now stood, none of it really mattered. There was a much more powerful, deadly force to contend with than the likes of that brutal idiot. Angst took a bite of the cake. It was stale and dry, and the sunflower seeds had a bitter aftertaste.
Oleksander had found a small knife and attempted to open the tin. Either the knife was blunt, or he hadn’t the strength. Angst intervened before the palsied fellow hurt himself. Using his bayonet, he pierced the metal and pried back the lid. Greedily, the boys rushed to retake possession of the tin. Daryna had to referee. Using her fingers, she separated the shaped stack of whole sardines onto two small plates and dribbled the oil over each compact little pile. Lev and Mykola could not contain themselves; they gobbled up the fish in a matter of seconds and licked the plates clean. Daryna watched over them, almost jealously, it seemed to Angst, as she tasted the fish oil on the tips of her fingers. All that remained was the odor that inundated the close room. Schroeder made signs of irritation but kept his eyes closed.
The tank had yet to take any action, and the crew members had not shown themselves. Not even a hatch was opened to allow for ventilation. Under the blistering sun, the hull’s interior must have been transformed into an oven. Angst could not fathom how the men within could tolerate such extremity. They might have all passed out by now and were slowly roasting, but he certainly wasn’t about to take the risk to find out. The T-34 was an eerie sight. Concrete was smeared on the armored surface, similar to the zimmerite paste used on the panzers to prevent magnetic antitank mines from attaching. But this coating was blotchy, scabrous, as though the steel skin had contracted some disease. There was writing on the turret’s left side. Cyrillic letters, very small, the red paint chipped and faded. Even if he could see the letters clearly, Angst would not comprehend the meaning. He did know that some tanks were named after a kolkhoz or Komsomol group that helped to raise the rubles necessary to offset production costs. Considering the amount of barbed wire sprouting all over the hull, Angst thought it impossible for a crew to mount and access the vehicle. Aside from the extra armored plating fixed to the sloping front end, strands of wire bristled across the driver’s hatch cover. The same was true for the twin hatches on the turret, the Mickey Mouse ears. To enter and leave the vehicle would be a difficult and painful procedure, as if the crew was sealed in for the duration of its mission. The concept was bizarre. He lowered the binoculars and glanced at his wristwatch. Nearly half past twelve hundred hours, and it could not get any hotter than it already was. The children had finally settled down. Daryna amused the boys with stories, Angst guessed, to judge by the theatrical manner of speech and gestures she employed. But she performed quietly, so as not to awaken Schroeder. When the boys started to fidget and become unruly, her tone sharpened, and she would point to Schroeder or Angst as if to say a firmer reprimand would be meted out, should they try the patience of their captors. What went on here last night, when the retreating army passed through and then the Russians in hot pursuit? Angst could only wonder. Now it’s our turn. Daryna and the old peasant probably figured out we had fallen way behind. Cut off and isolated our desperation is certainly evident. What happened to the boys’ parents? And Daryna? None of them seemed related. Had they all been orphaned and survived on the meager kindness of others? What sort of existence was lived out here in all this empty space? Grim and marginal, he was sure.
Everyone napped. Oleksander had taken a quilt and pillow from a wood box that served as a chest and had spread it out on the floor. The boys lay curled up beside him. He did not seem to mind; their proximity yielded some comfort, as his frail and vulnerable form did for them. The heat had caused Angst to become practically ill with lethargy. He had to will himself through the crushing boredom and fatigue, one second at a time. He would soon follow Schroeder with at least an hour of uninterrupted, dreamless sleep, depending on their present predicament—maybe even longer. Hang on, he cautioned himself; it would be his turn soon. With the hour and a half that had since elapsed, Angst assumed the rest of the squad was well on their way, heading west, using the ravine for cover. Well, good for them, he thought; at least Braun, Schmidt, Minnesinger, and the others have a shot at survival. Angst felt left out, more so because whatever was about to come his way would have to be faced with the likes of Schroeder and not with his friends. Hang on, every moment, every second counts. He was intent on awakening the panzergrenadier corporal and see what they could come up with in extricating themselves from the death trap they had blundered into. Last night and now today, what does that tank want from us? We’ve been followed, hounded, and for what purpose? None of it made any sense. Daryna sat and rested her head on her arms, folded on the table. She stared at Angst with one eye that peeked from the crook of her arm. Her eye widened just as they heard the loud eruption from the tank’s 76 mm gun. A second volley followed. Schroeder gasped loudly as he awakened and was immediately on his feet, waving the MP40 around the room, seeking out a target. Through a small, shuttered window at the back wall of the room, Angst saw the smoking debris of a shack that once stood closest to the edge of the ravine, now completely obliterated. Oleksander stirred on the floor, frightened and confused by the noises. Daryna reacted the worst, unleashing a fury driven by panic and fear. She charged for the door and managed to open it before Angst caught hold of her around the waist. She flailed wildly as Angst threw his weight and hers against the door. The teenager was strong, and he thought she would propel them both out of the house. Daryna scratched, kicked, and slapped; her teeth snapped open and shut in an effort to get a fix on a part of him to bite. Schroeder was making an attempt to pull her away when Angst saw the older boy, Mykola, mount the sill of the rear window, ready to leap out.