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Suddenly reminded of his duties, he looked at his watch and saw that over an hour had passed since he left the barracks. He had only planned to be gone half that time, and he immediately sought out the trail that would take him back to the rail yard. He had just reentered the birch wood when a familiar voice rang out nearby.

“Misha! Misha, are you out there?”

“I’m here, Alex. On the trail!”

No sooner were these words spoken, when his brother broke through the underbrush. Since both wore matching khaki uniforms, a stranger would have had to look very closely to tell the two apart. Both sported muscular, six-foot, three inch frames, identical mops of wavy blond hair, and the same handsome features down to the round dimple that split their chins. Only the most conscientious observer would note the difference in the twins’ eye coloring. Mikhail had inherited his father’s vivid blue eyes, while Alexander’s were a deep sea-green like his mother’s.

“Ah, there you are, Misha,” said Alexander.

“For a moment I feared that you had gone A.W.O.L..”

“Now why in the world would I do that, my dear brother? It’s only been seventeen days since the Nazi hordes crossed over our borders, and now it looks as if our sworn duty to the Rodina will finally prove interesting.”

“If only you knew the truth of those words,” Alexander said.

“Rumor has it that the Germans have already reached the outskirts of Pskov. From there it’s only 250 kilometers to the gates of Leningrad, with us smack in between.”

“Surely we won’t be here much longer,” replied Mikhail.

“What good can a naval squad do this far inland?

I’ll bet the orders directing us to the navy base at Tallinin are on the way even as we speak.”

Alexander answered with a gloomy shake of his head.

“I’m afraid not, Misha. Less than a quarter of an hour ago, a packet arrived by courier from Lieutenant General M. Popov himself. We’ve been instructed to make our way with all due haste to the monastery of Tsarkoe Selo, outside ofLuga.”

“There must be some mistake! Such duty falls under the auspices of the People’s Army. We belong out at sea with the Fleet.”

“Tell that to Lieutenant General Popov. Right now, we have no choice in the matter. Orders are orders. If we don’t hurry back to the station, there’s a good possibility both of us will be shot by the NKVD as deserters!”

Without waiting for further argument, Alexander turned back toward the rail yard. His brother followed close on his heels, and they both broke into a run as the shrill whistle of a train sounded once again.

“Most likely that train is our means of transport to Luga,” Alexander said without breaking his long, fluid stride.

“If we miss it, there’s no telling what could happen to us.”

The birch forest passed in a blur as the two junior lieutenants sprinted down the footpath. They broke through the tree line in time to see a massive black locomotive enter the yard followed by a trio of box cars and a caboose. On the roof of this last car was a sandbagged machine gun emplacement manned by a pair of soldiers.

It was Alexander who pointed toward the group of khaki-clad men gathered on the trackside loading ramp.

“There’s the squad now, Misha. Father must be watching out for us, because it looks like we’ll just be able to join them in time.”

As the locomotive screeched to a halt beside the loading ramp, Alexander and Mikhail hurried across the tracks and climbed up the ramp where they were met by Senior Lieutenant Viktor Ryutin. Their grizzled superior officer wasted no time venting his wrath.

“So the Kuznetsov twins have decided to grace us with their company after all,” spat the red-cheeked veteran.

“I was going to send the NKVD out looking for you. But I really wasn’t worried, because if our men couldn’t find you, the Nazis would. So come on, comrades. Onto the train with you. We’ve got ourselves a real live war to fight.”

Though Mikhail would have liked to get a clarification of their orders and find out why they weren’t being sent to the nearest navy base, he didn’t dare incur more of the senior lieutenant’s anger. Meekly saluting to the veteran’s orders, he followed his brother into the boxcar.

Inside they found the rest of the squad huddled around a seated figure, who was propped up against the wooden slat wall. The twins wasted no time joining their comrades and listened as the bandage-wrapped stranger described his experiences on the front.

“… I tell you, those Nazis came upon us like crazed demons!” exclaimed the infantryman, scanning the faces of his rapt audience.

“I was assigned to guard a hospital unit that was supposed to be well within our lines. I had heard gunfire for most of the day, but most of it was a good distance away and nothing to worry about.

It was getting toward sunset, and I was just thinking about breaking for chow, when all hell broke loose. First came the Stukas, diving out of the sky screaming like banshees from the underworld. The bastards didn’t bother dropping bombs. They were content to strafe with their infernal machine-guns. I can still hear those exploding rounds as they ripped through our tents. Our wounded boys never stood a chance!”

The boxcar shifted as the locomotive jerked forward and began picking up steam. The infantryman took a deep breath and continued.

“I’m not afraid to admit my hands were shaking like an old woman as I shoved a live round into my Dekyarov and tried to draw a bead on one of those Lufwaffe bastards. Yet just as I was about to let a round fly, a new racket caught my attention. It sounded like a hundred locomotives and when I dared to look to the south, my worst fears were realized. Headed our way was a line of more than a hundred Panzers! It was then that my rifle jammed, and I had no choice but to run for cover and find a new weapon!”

“Sounds like a German blitzkrieg to me,” said one of the young sailors.

“With such a lightning attack,

the Nazis were able to conquer Poland and France all in a matter of days.”

“Nonsense!” said another ensign.

“Such tactics might have worked in Poland and France, but never in the Motherland. Everyone knows that we have the Stalin Line to protect us.”

“That’s a good one!” the infantryman said with an ironic grin.

“If we had saved the millions of rubles it cost to build that ridiculous line of ineffective tank traps and bought rifles instead, we’d be much better off. I was right there, comrades, and saw with these very eyes how those Panzers broke through our lines and mowed down our troops without quarter.”

Alexander Kuznetsov nodded.

“There are said to be many in our General Staff who have doubted the effectiveness of the Stalin Line all along. No fortress can ever provide one hundred percent protection. One only has to look back at France’s so-called impenetrable Maginot Line to demonstrate this point.”

“Well said, comrade,” spoke the infantryman.

“It’s too bad we turned a blind eye to history, because even as we speak, the Germans continue their penetration of the Motherland. Soon they’ll be unstoppable. First they’ll rape and pillage our beloved Leningrad. Then it will be onto the gates of holy Moscow itself!”

The train was travelling at full speed and the deafening clatter of the wheels made conversation difficult.

“I wouldn’t give up hope just yet, comrades,” Mikhail said.

“Even if the Stalin Line has indeed been circumvented, there are still many battles to be fought before the walls of Moscow and Leningrad are breached. No country on this planet can summon as many brave men and women to arms as the Soviet Union. Our Air Force is equipped with thousands of modern planes, and we’re living testament to the awesome power of our Navy. Yet one thing still puzzles me. Why are we being taken further inland to Luga, instead of joining our comrades in the fleet? Surely as trained sailors we can best strike back at the enemy from the sea, as we were taught to do in the Academy.”