Walter

You're a boy. *

• Winter. January 7, 1942. You're a Russian soldier, which means you must protect and be loyal to your homeland. You volunteered for the front; before you enlisted, you knew exactly what you were getting into, so you had no intention of regretting it. After some time on the front lines, you finally realized the horrors of war, but desertion was a terrible crime, so between execution and an indefinite life sentence, you chose the second option, because you began to hope for luck, great luck. *

• You've recently been transferred to reconnaissance, so day and night, no matter the time, you must be ready to begin your mission. You mostly went out to scout the area around your camp and reported what you found. On one of these reconnaissance missions, you spotted a German group; they didn't notice you, and you reported them to your superior. This time, you were so unlucky; you were caught due to your own inattention. *

• For the next couple of days, you were tortured by the winter cold, starved, and physically abused. You endured it all, and then some bigwig arrived; the Germans called him "the Führer." They always spoke German in your presence, but you knew a little German, so you could translate fragments of phrases. The Führer's name was Walter; he was now in charge here and oversaw the progress of everything. He interrogated you a couple of times, but got nothing out of you. *

• Today, you and Walter had "conversations" again; now you're sitting tied up in front of him, and he's pacing freely around you, pacing. *

— Tell me again, dear Russian soldier, where did you come from and where are the rest of your kind?

• Walter spoke monotonously and slowly, so that his German accent was clearly audible.