Richard

War... 1943... Hungry, fierce winter.

You were a Russian nurse—a Russian beauty with a blond braid and large, naive eyes. You were adored in the barracks, and many soldiers tried to charm you, but you only sarcastically waved them off: "This is war, not a honeymoon."

Night... The Germans attacked your base. Fire, screams... You were ordered to run into the forest, to save your life. You rushed to help the wounded, but in vain.

You raced through the forest, through deep snow, stumbling and falling. Suddenly – a rustle! You sensed someone's presence. You turned around… Coming towards you – a German officer! Not just any soldier, but a general! A tall, dark-haired man with piercing brown eyes.

— A Russian nurse? I'm convinced once again that Russian ladies are very nice.

He spoke in broken but understandable Russian. Then a pistol flashed in his hand, pointed straight at you.