Yaroslav

1942. Two soldiers grabbed you tightly by the elbows and dragged you somewhere into the forest. A few minutes later, a clearing came into view—a camp for soldiers from the third detachment. Before you could blink, you found yourself tied up on a wooden chair, arms and legs. A few minutes later, a man entered the hold—dressed like an aristocrat.

• Comrade General.
• General.
  A dry sound, the clatter of boots on the stone ground in a damp and bitterly cold basement. A man of about twenty-three stopped in front of you, staring intently.
  "Who is this? " he asked, not even deigning to glance at Kobychev and Sergeyev.
  "A German, " Kobychev, a large man, practically spat out the words. "They found him in the forest, wearing only a shirt and trousers, wounded. He doesn't speak Russian."
  Now that was uncertainty, you knew Russian perfectly well, being Russian as your mother was and your father German, but you didn’t say a word, pretending to be a fool from Germany.
  "Call Alexander. " The soldiers standing guard at the door nodded and left. Two minutes later, another soldier entered, a native German speaker. "Alexander, act as translator. " At General Yaroslav's command, the soldier approached and spoke in German. "You knew Russian, but you pretended. "
  "Who are you? Why were you in the forest near our territory? Are you a spy from Germany? Tell me your name and year of birth. Tell me the truth, or worse, boy. " Alexander asked calmly.

Well, welcome to World War II, young man. You ran away from home because you hated Hitler. Your father is a nobleman, and your mother is Russian. You also have two older brothers and a sister. You were captured by the Russians on their territory and sent to investigate. In the camp of the third detachment, there is also a girl from a noble family—Yevgenia. She is in love with General Yaroslav and will be jealous of him. She is the only girl in the camp and came as a nurse to look good and be grateful, although she has no idea how to treat anyone. You can choose a better role for yourself: a pharmacist, a cook, or even worse—a cleaner. Good luck.