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This caused his nearby comrade to lose his nerve and stand up. Before the man had a chance to take a step, Hale put a bullet in him. This soldier joined his comrade in death, as his body toppled over and landed on his injured companion. The snow around the two men quickly turned red as their life blood leaked out onto the frozen earth.

Before he was spotted, Hale quickly ducked back down into the gully and made his way fifty feet to the north. He briefly peeked over the edge of the gully to keep tabs on his enemy. His face broke into a smile as his eyes took in the scene. Nearly two dozen Soviets were hugging the frozen earth, paralyzed by their fear.

As he ducked back down into the gully, he ejected his nearly empty clip, opened his coat, and calmly reloaded the magazine as his thoughts slipped back to his training.

A middle-aged man stood at the front of the class. He was resplendent in his grey uniform. Multiple metals caught the light from the classroom’s electric light. Wrinkle free and neatly pressed, the man obviously took pride in the uniform he wore. Using a wooden pointer, he indicated a spot on the map, “What does this deployment and subsequent reaction by the opposing force to two snipers tell you about the role of fear on the battle field?”

A squad member of Hale’s raised his hand to reply. The officer, standing at the front of the room, raised his pointer and gestured at the young Finnish soldier. You there, with your hand raised, speak, “Sir-“

The man’s face instantly turned red as a vein bulged in his forehead. Cutting the hapless private off he roared, “The name is Sergeant Riku not sir!”

Sitting in the back of the room Sergeant Kivi smiled as the private nervously sputtered out, “Sergeant Riku, the change in deployment doesn’t make any sense. Why would so many react to two men in such a manner?”

Sergeant Riku’s eyes panned over the men of Hale’s training squad. Most looked away, but Hale dared to make direct eye contact. Sergeant Riku raised his pointer and said, “You there. Why do you think the larger group is reacting to the two snipers in this manner?”

Hale leapt to his feet, snapped to attention, and said, “Fear.”

Sergeant Riku ignored the fact that Hale failed to properly address him, smiled and said, “Precisely. The sniper’s best weapon against a foe, especially one that will outnumber us like the Red Army is fear.”

Hale’s mind snapped back into reality as he finished preparing. Satisfied all was ready, he slid the clip back into place on the rifle. As soon as he heard the click of the magazine as it locked into place, he operated the bolt of his Mosin-Nagant to put a round in the chamber.

Hale leaned up against the wall of the gully and took a deep breath. He raised his right, gloved hand and looked at it for a moment, it trembled slightly. Stay calm, Pekka needs you. He took another deep breath, let it out slowly, and then scooped up a handful of snow and shoveled it into his mouth.

Moving very slowly he peeked over the ridgeline. None of the Soviets had stood up and advanced during the few minutes he had reloaded and collected himself. Smiling slightly, he cast a glance in Pekka’s direction. The injured Corporal had not moved, Come on, you’ve got to wake up and get out of there! Hale thought. These bastards are going to figure out that there is only one of me out here very soon, and then the fear will be gone.

Suddenly, a whistle blew, and all of the enemy soldiers stood up simultaneously. With a loud roar, they charged up the road toward Pekka and the smoldering tree. Desperate, Hale began firing, hit, work the bolt, hit, work the bolt and hit. The fourth time he took aim, a bullet kicked up the snow about a foot to his right spoiling his aim as he pulled the trigger. They’ve spotted me!

Hale ducked back down into cover and worked the bolt on his rifle. As the final bullet in the clip slid into the chamber, he ejected the magazine, and slammed another one home. He then peeked up over the edge of the gully. An entire squad of eight men were advancing directly toward him, Shit!

He quickly took aim at the lead soldier and squeeze the trigger. With an audible grunt, the bullet struck the man in the chest and he went down. This brought the other seven to a stop and they raised their rifles and took aim at Hale. Hale’s eyes widened as he met the angry gaze of the Communists glaring back at him. As he ducked back down into the gully the roar of seven rifles discharging simultaneously pierced the forest.

The volley was followed by a loud series of screams as the squad bellowed, and charged. Hale, heedless of being spotted stood up, took aim, and killed another one. In the time it took him to operate his bolt, they closed to a hundred feet. He nervously took aim at another, as his arms trembled slightly. Fortunately, hitting center mass when they were charging right at him was easy.

His shot dropped another of the advancing soldiers to the ground. This one clutched his gut and started screaming in agony. Hale stood his ground and calmly fired until his clip was exhausted. Despite his failing nerves he was able to put a bullet into each of the targets he aimed at.

As the two survivors drew within twenty feet of Hale, they stopped and took aim with their rifles. Hale ducked back down into the gully just as the two men pulled their triggers. Dropping his rifle, he pulled out his pistol and stood back up. The two surviving Soviets were working the bolt on their rifles to eject their spent round and pull another into the firing chamber.

Hale, now fully visible, raised the pistol and took aim at the Russian on his right. The man’s fur lined green cap fell to the earth as he violently wrestled with the bolt on his rifle, it had frozen. Hale squeezed the trigger on his pistol. A moment later the frustrated enemy soldier clutched his shoulder and fell to the earth.

The other Russian raised his rifle and took aim at Hale. The young Finn dove for cover as the invader pulled the trigger. Hale could feel the wind of the bullet as it flew through the space, he had occupied only a moment before. With a grunt, he hit the hard-frozen earth.

Hale, maintained his grip on the pistol and rolled over onto his back as the Russian appeared at the edge of the gully standing over him. The man smiled, his yellowing teeth catching the sunlight. He then dove at Hale, leading with the bayonet on his rifle. Hale raised his pistol and shot the man in the mouth.

Yellow teeth crumpled and flew in all directions as the bullet shattered his teeth. Still alive and now very angry, he tried to stab Hale with his bayonet. Hale attempted to roll to the left to avoid the blow, he failed. Searing pain erupted in his right shoulder as the bayonet bit into his flesh.

Shocked, he dropped his pistol as his instincts for survival kicked in. He grabbed his pukko with his left hand and drove it into the back of the Soviet’s head as the man struck the ground beside him. The man let out a deep breath as Hale drove the blade through his skull into his brain.

Hale sat up and looked over at his shoulder. His white coat was stained red with blood and his shoulder throbbed. He quickly unzipped his coat and pulled it off. His injured shoulder screamed in protest as he pulled the coat off his right arm. Keeping the coat partially on, as it was ten degree below zero. He looked down at the wound.

The bayonet had not gone into the shoulder, instead, the edge had scraped across the top until it was deflected by the bone. Hale rummaged around in his pack until he found a bandage. Holding it with his right hand, he tore it open with his left and slapped it into over the wound. He quickly secured it in place with a wrap and pulled his coat back on. Ignoring the pain, he thought, Pekka needs me.