C Taylor - Nadya's War

“It was an old syrette. I tossed it in the oil drum to let it burn so I couldn’t use it,” I said. I took a step toward her, but when she didn’t lower the weapon, I stopped, fearing she might actually use it on me. Tears welled in my eyes. “Klara, I love you. And if you don’t believe me then you might as well shoot me right now because you’re tearing my heart in two.”

“I—” Her gaze drifted behind me, and everything happened so fast. There was a hail of gunfire. Rademacher grabbed me from behind, punched me in the lower back, and threw me to the ground. He leapt on me before I could move and had my pistol in his hand.

“Move and die,” he hissed into my ear.

I froze, even held my breath. My eyes flickered to the side. An Opel truck idled at the rise of the hill. Next to it, three men stood wearing bundled uniforms and sloped helmets I’d not seen on either Russian or German troops. I guessed they were the Romanian allies of the Germans. Two of the men had Mauser rifles shouldered. The third held a submachinegun that looked like a PPSh-41. Its drum magazine and heavy barrel had a distinct look I could pick out from a hundred meters away. The fact that it was of Russian origin didn’t hurt either.

I couldn’t see Klara. As much as I didn’t want to see her dead, part of me hoped she was to avoid a prisoner’s fate.

Rademacher and the Romanians exchanged words I couldn’t follow. It wasn’t a heated exchange, but one filled with energy. He walked out of my field of view and fired a single shot. I presumed it was into Klara. I held back my tears as best I could.

He walked over to me once more, aimed my pistol at my head, and fired. The bullet struck next to my ear, and I jumped. He fired again. That shot struck a hair away from my skull, but I kept still. My ears rang, and the smell of gunpowder filled my nose. He dug into my satchel, took his Luger, and tossed my weapon on the ground before hurrying off.

For the next minute or two, all I can do is keep still and pray the Romanians don’t come back to inspect Rademacher’s handiwork. My shoulder burns, and my chest feels wet and sticky. Slowly, I look down and find the bloody hole in my jacket under my left collarbone. It’s messy, but I figure I won’t bleed out, at least, not soon.

I start to shiver in the snow and dare to glance around. Neither Rademacher nor the Romanians can be seen, and Klara is on her back in the middle of crimson snow.

I dash to her side, tripping over my feet as I come to her. Her eyes vacantly stare at the sky. Blood tinges her lips. Her chest rises and falls, but I don’t think it will last. She needs a surgeon and a half-dozen miracles. I don’t have either. But I do have hands, and I take hers in mine.

She tilts her head toward me, but she’s looking far away. “Nadya?”

“I’m right here,” I say, squeezing her hand.

“You know what?”

“What?”

“I’m sorry for doubting you,” she says as her body eases into the ground. “And I’m sorry I got you shot.”

“I’d go through all that and more if I could bring you home,” I say, settling next to her. She whimpers as I pull her close and brush her hair from her face before kissing the top of her forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she says. She sighs with content. “What did you sing for Alexandra?”

“A lullaby,” I reply.

“I bet it was nice,” she says. Her voice barely makes it to my ears. “Sing it for me?”

I grit my teeth. “No.”

“I suppose I deserve that.”

“I mean I don’t think I’m able.”

“Oh.” Her body trembles, and I fear her last breath is almost upon us as she speaks. “You don’t have to stay. More will come. Go while you can.”

“If I do, I’ll never be able to come back to you,” I reply.

A smile forms on her face. “According to your god, I’m going to Hell. You’ll never come to me there.”

“Then He’ll be in for a rude surprise.”

I shut my eyes as her hand tightens. I wonder how long it would take to get back to friendly lines and what people would say when I returned not only as an ace, but with Rademacher’s ID tags. I’d get commendations and medals. Maybe even a promotion. But I’ll be damned if I’m leaving Klara, no matter how weak we become.

My head grows light, and all of creation feels distant, alien. I’m a stranger in it, and stranger still, I’m glad. It takes a few seconds to understand why: My time in this broken world is coming to an end, and I’m certain that’s just the beginning of something new, something more wondrous and amazing, and maybe I’ll finally get some answers. Most of all, I realize I’m happy because I feel my teeth are finally brushed.

“Klara?” I say, hoping she’ll rouse one more time.

“Yes?”

“We’re going home.”

The list of people who helped shaped this to what it is today is enormous. Each and every reader that managed to get through draft after draft and provide invaluable and honest feedback will have my eternal gratitude, especially all those that helped nail down the intricacies of the time period, culture, and the Red Army Air.

I owe special thanks to both Therin Knite and Crystal Watanabe, two amazing editors who helped transform the text through various stages.

And most of all, I always owe the most to my wife, Mary Beth, who’s read through more material than I can dream of and is still as supportive as ever.

C.S. Taylor is a former Marine and avid fencer (saber for the most part, foil and epee are tolerable). He enjoys all things WWII, especially perfecting his dogfighting skills inside virtual cockpits, and will gladly accept any P-38 Lightnings anyone might wish to bestow upon him. He’s also been known to run a kayak through whitewater now and again, as well give people a run for their money in trap and skeet.

“Well researched, Nadya’s War is a fascinating tale of female combat pilots in World War II that will have you on the edge of your seat.”

“With a genuine flair for crafting a complex and believable yesteryear of desperate war time conditions, a world populated by a roster of truly memorable characters, a time of lethal intrigue, a time in urgent need of heroes, C.S. Taylor’s novel Nadya’s War is a riveting read from cover to cover and will prove to be an enduringly popular and appreciated addition to community library General Fiction collections.”

“The characters are well drawn, and their arcs move in unexpected directions… A compelling, female-centric combat tale involving Russians and Nazis.”

“Nadya’s War is a really fantastic novel for those who love character-centric novels and have an interest in not-often-told stories of WWII.”

“ Nadya’s War tells the riveting story of a young woman’s journey as an ace fighter pilot in World War II, illuminating a long neglected chapter of history. Taylor provides a rich, engrossing narrative.”

“A dangerous aerial ballet of love, hate, pain and discovery, Nadya’s War takes the reader into skies that few have visited. This is a fresh book with twists and surprises throughout.”

“ Nadya’s War is a thrilling, moving fictional account of the Red Army’s 586th all-female fighter regiment. Taylor has obviously done his homework so this book will certainly appeal to enthusiasts of World War II’s aerial combat or anyone who loves well-written historical fiction.”