David Robbins - War of the Rats - A Novel of Stalingrad

Ostarhild handed Nikki a flashlight. “Let’s go. This shouldn’t take you too long.”

Nikki set the lantern on the floor. He lit the flashlight to guide the officer up the steps. He left his rifle propped in the corner, where it had been for weeks.

Outside the office, Nikki threw the light’s beam onto the ground. Ostarhild pointed out the black wire running into an alley. These thick, coated wires had been rolled out from giant spools off the backs of trucks to establish phone links between headquarters while the German army consolidated its gains. Whenever possible, the wires were laid along walls or on the inside of train tracks for protection and camouflage. Occasionally the lines were strung on poles to lift them over roads.

Nikki pocketed a set of wire strippers and a roll of black electrician’s tape. Ostarhild patted him on the back.

“I’ve checked it to this point, Nikki. It’s broken out there somewhere. Be careful. Just find it, fix it, and get back.”

Nikki cast the beam on the wire and followed it into the alley. At the far end of the block, the wire rose up a flagpole and stretched across a street. He locked onto the wire with the flashlight and followed it, snaking through the city.

Walking, he kept alert. Even though this sector was well in the rear and the night was quiet, he was keenly aware that he was a German soldier strolling through the Russian dark behind a glaring flashlight.

Nikki kept his eyes on the wire, glancing only rarely at the shadowy ruins. He felt he had seen them all before, one just like another. Months ago, it had struck him how little character was left in this city that was Stalin’s namesake, which once must have been beautiful. When Nikki first saw Stalingrad in early September, the bombings and combat had already stripped its flesh, reducing it to piles of debris and gaunt, defiant facades. It was a wasteland, all of it looking the same, its agony spread evenly. Only the wide, jade Volga and the steppe beyond Mamayev Kurgan were worth looking at anymore.

He tracked the wire behind the remains of a warehouse. A half-dozen empty coal cars sat on tracks there, all of them perforated by bullet holes. Nikki moved into an open yard; he heard footsteps in the rubble. He flashed the beam at the first of the coal cars. A private walked from behind it, raising his hand in greeting. The man shrugged and pointed down at Nikki’s feet. Nikki aimed the beam down to the break in the wire. It had been cleanly severed, as if cut with a snipper.

What was this private doing? Nikki wondered. Had he wandered all the way out here and found he’d forgotten or lost his wire strippers or repair tape? Why hadn’t he just gone back? Maybe he knew someone else would come fix the wire and so waited for the next soldier, figuring it would be safer to walk back together. Whatever his reason, Nikki, a corporal who’d been yanked out of his rest before an important morning mission, was going to give this freshman an upbraiding he would remember.

Nikki knelt and pulled out his wire strippers. The private stayed where he was. Nikki flashed the light at him.

“Come over here and help me. I’ll show you how this is done, and then you’re going to do it. Come on.”

The little private shuffled over. The man’s coat hung on him loosely, and his pantaloons, baggy at the knees, were bunched over the boots. The leather sheath of a bone-handled knife hung from a belt lapped around the soldier’s waist.

That’s not his uniform, Nikki thought.

The private walked up and stood over Nikki. The man brought his thin, pale head down to Nikki’s eye level. Nikki raised the flashlight to look into his face.

The private grinned. His smile was golden.

PAIN WAITED FOR NIKKI. HE THRASHED TO THE surface of consciousness, to a stab of white pain at the back of his neck. His hands would not move. Water flooded his nostrils and mouth.

His cheek stung suddenly. His head snapped to the right, flinging open his eyelids. His jawbone sizzled with ache. Nikki coughed out the water in his nose and throat. He blinked his eyes to dry his vision. A bright light sprang into his face.

Quickly his senses took hold. He was lying on his back. His hands and legs were bound. He opened his eyes wide, and the light blurred into a starburst. It was all he could see.

A hand reached out of the light to grab him by the collar and jerk him into a sitting position. The pain in his neck sank and spread over his shoulders. His ribs throbbed. He’d been kicked while unconscious.

The light lowered to the floor. His vision adjusted, and he saw three men, one wearing the baggy German uniform. This one stepped forward. He leaned his face close and smiled with a mouth decked with gold-capped teeth. He drew a long knife and laid the blade under Nikki’s chin. His face filled Nikki’s vision.

“There’s not a lot of time.” A gravelly voice from behind the light was speaking accented German. “This one wants to kill you. I’m going to let him do it unless you give me a reason not to.”

Nikki stared numbly into the face before him. The flashing yellow teeth disappeared behind thin lips. The man breathed loudly through his nose.

Nikki looked past the head in front of him into the shadows. From the spilling glow of the flashlight, he saw he was in one of the coal cars. These three were a commando team who’d sneaked over the line to capture and interrogate a prisoner. He could only guess how long they’d been waiting in the coal car. They’d snipped the telephone wire, then ambushed the freshman when he came out to fix it. They’ve killed him; now they have me, Nikki thought dully.

“You’ll kill me anyway,” he said.

The knife rolled under his chin. The blade scraped down his throat, over his Adam’s apple, then again under his jaw.

Nikki swallowed. He gave his name, rank, and serial number. The face in front of him looked deep into his eyes, like an attentive dog that did not understand.

”Corporal, let me make this easy for you,” the voice from behind the light said. “We know about the reinforcements moving into the Barricades. Several battalions. We’ve been watching them. And even though the lad who wandered out here before you was quite a nervous talker, he didn’t know anything of value. I suspect you do. Tell me something of value, Corporal. Now.”

Nikki felt the blade curl under his ear. A glimpse of gold shone through the lips floating in front of him. This man spoke in a hiss; blood dripped along Nikki’s neck from the slicing knife.

The interpreter said, “He wants you to know he will kill you in five more seconds. He says he wants to do it. I suggest you speak to me now, Corporal.”

Now, Nikki thought. Now, he said! My God, this is a death I wasn’t prepared for! My throat slit open, gasping for air, bound hand and foot like a slaughtered hog. Now! What can I tell them? Should I tell them? Tell them! Tell them what? What do I know? Value? What’s of value to these madmen? What do I know? Start talking, Nikki. Anything. Something will come out, something of value. No, be quiet! Traitors and cowards talk. Die, just die. It’s over. They’ll kill you anyway. Oh, God. Father.

The knife left Nikki’s throat. The face moved behind him. Nikki looked at the two standing men, specters in the downcast flashlight. They looked like all the other Russians he’d seen, in bulky padded coats, cartridge belts, and grenades slung about their bodies. Both wore the Russian fur hat, ear flaps tied up.

The light played again into his face, blinding him. The man with the knife laid his hand over Nikki’s eyes and nose and yanked back hard. Nikki’s neck stretched.

“Corporal,” the voice said, “we must leave now. I give you this chance.”