Yuri and Peter bumped into Tanya again, on her way to work, and Yuri was delighted to note that she said his name before Peter’s.
‘Yuri! Peter! Hello again.’
Plus she seemed glad to see them. In fact, she said, ‘I was hoping to bump into you.’
Yuri shamelessly pushed her further, ‘You mean you’ve been looking for us?’
She laughed, giving Peter a quick hug. ‘Yes, I suppose I have.’
They ducked into the remains of a doorway to talk. There was a rotten smell which usually only meant one thing, a body, though there was often more than one. They were a common feature now, part of any war-torn landscape; there were so many dead and not enough time nor space to bury them. Yuri did his best not to see them. Peter hardly noticed them at all, preferring to watch insects in the dirt, making their way around a human-shaped obstacle. Other times Yuri saw bodies everywhere, even when there were none to see. For instance, what he assumed to be a burnt corpse turned out to be a burnt tree trunk or even a hill of scorched earth that had fallen that way after a bomb exploded nearby. It was amazing how, from a distance, a pile of ladled dark earth could perfectly resemble a body lying stretched out on the ground.
In school Yuri had studied photographs of the remains of the ancient city of Pompeii. On a bright summer’s day, on 23 August, AD79, a huge volcano called Mount Vesuvius had erupted. Hot ash, flaming lava and poisonous gases had engulfed the busy town at the foot of the volcano. As they tried to flee, people were encased in the molten lava. Their bodies were preserved, like statues, only to be discovered nearly two thousand years later by archaeologists unearthing this once vibrant city.
When the planes came to bomb his city of Stalingrad, on 24 August, Yuri found himself thinking about Pompeii a lot. In the Russian streets hundreds of fires stewed the air while sheets of ash and cinder fell from the cooked buildings like dirty snow. All the same he was sure that the heat he felt was nothing compared to the torture of lava on his skin. Although, he did remember his teacher saying that some of the people in Pompeii probably died of a heart-attack before the lava could reach them.
His Aunt Sophie had died of a heart attack. She had been making dinner for her husband when she’d dropped a plate, the sound shattering Yuri’s uncle’s reading hour. He’d shouted from the living room, asking if she was alright, and when she hadn’t answered he’d run to the kitchen door, only to find he couldn’t open it because something had been blocking it – his wife’s body no less, her already dulled eyes staring at the ceiling, with a pot of dumplings bubbling away on the stove.
Imagine that; one second you’re doing something normal, like cooking, and the very next second you’re dead on the floor.
The day of the Pompeii lesson, Yuri had come home and had told his stepfather what he’d been studying, and had asked him what would happen if someone cracked open one of the lava bodies with a hammer, ‘Would the skeleton fall out?’
His stepfather had looked at him as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘Yuri, those bodies are thousands of years old. The bones are long gone, there would only be dust, nothing more.’
That had been disappointing. ‘Really? The whole person would be just gone?’
His stepfather had picked up his pen and had nodded. ‘Yes, completely. Now, close the door behind you, I have work to do.’
His stepfather had always had work to do in the evenings. He was a science professor in the university and had given his students a lot of homework that he would have to spend hours and hours correcting. Though, of course, that had been before the war. His stepfather had been one of the first to be called away for the army. Yuri had thought it was very exciting and had wished he could go with him. His mother, however, had not been pleased at all. Yuri hadn’t been able to understand why. She’d treated it like it was something to be ashamed of. One night he’d heard her tell his stepfather that ‘they’ were finally getting him out of the way. According to the bits of her sentences he had managed to make out, she’d believed that his stepfather’s boss wanted to give his job to another man. To his relief, his stepfather had completely disagreed with this, telling her she was wrong, that he was needed by his country because he could help make new weapons.
He’d left four weeks before Stalingrad was attacked and Yuri’d realised that his mother was furious with her husband for abandoning his family.
One time, in between the attacks, when they’d sat pressed together in the coal cellar, appreciating the blessed silence, listening to each other breathe, she’d blurted out, ‘He should be here with us!’
Yuri, torn between wanting his stepfather beside him but also wanting to defend his absence, had waited a few minutes and then had said, ‘But he had to go, Mama. He didn’t have a choice.’
Obviously regretting her outburst, she’d immediately agreed, saying quietly, ‘You’re right, Yuri, none of us do.’
‘Yuri! Are you listening to me?’ Tanya was clicking her fingers in front of his nose.
‘What? Oh, sorry!’ He felt his face grow warm.
Both Tanya and Peter were staring at him, Peter giggling louder than necessary. She laughed, ‘What on earth were you thinking about?’
‘My parents,’ he replied, looking everywhere except at her.
She didn’t say anything to this for which he was grateful. He certainly didn’t want her to think he was a ‘mummy’s boy’, though maybe it was worse to be the sort of person who didn’t mention his family at all, at a time like this. Everyone probably behaved very differently in war time.
‘Okay,’ she said, ‘I have something to ask you. I’m pretty sure that Peter will say yes, but it will only work out if you agree to do it too. In other words, you have to say “yes”!’
He gulped back that very word, knowing he should at least wait for her question or he would look as desperate as his five-year-old charge. How could she know that he was incapable of ever saying the opposite to her?
She continued on, ‘The thing is, Mother is getting worse instead of better. So much so, that I don’t like leaving her alone.’
Yuri nodded expectantly, wondering if she wanted him to bring her mother out for walks with Peter.
Tanya sighed. ‘It’s just that I’m needed to work more hours at the factory.’
‘Would they take me on?’
His question surprised them both. Raising her eyebrows, she said slowly, ‘Well, now, I’m not sure. We’re probably too busy to train in anyone new.’
He blushed. At least she didn’t tell him he was too young.
‘And, anyway,’ she continued, ‘what would Peter do?’
Yuri blushed even deeper; it cannot have looked good that he could forget all about her former neighbour, the neighbour who was now regarding him with a worried look. Yuri sighed. ‘It’s alright, Peter, I’m not going anywhere.’
Tanya seemed to understand his ego was a little crushed. ‘But I’ll let you know, if they change their mind.’
Yuri nodded and thanked her for her kindness, if nothing else. He knew she must have noticed his limp and he felt ashamed. Maybe she thought him too weak for physical work.
In actual fact, Tanya had paid no attention to Yuri’s legs, being much too absorbed in finding a solution to her own problem. ‘Now,’ she began again, ‘the reason I was looking for you is that I’ve been thinking about Mother, and it seems to me that the only sensible thing to do is have you and Peter come live with us. That way I know Mother has company, leaving me free to do what I have to do.’
Peter gasped a breathless, ‘Yes!’ While Yuri had to stop himself from leaping into the air. Hoping to come across as mature and calm, he kept his face serious and asked, ‘Are you sure? I mean, won’t your mother mind?’ He didn’t hear her answers, but she must have said ‘yes’ followed by ‘no’, because then she said that they should meet her when she finished her shift and go back with her that very evening.
‘There’s no point in waiting any longer. I presume you’ve no suitcases or furniture to bring with you. I hope not,’ she grinned, ‘because there won’t be much room for much else when the four of us are home together.’
Home! Yuri hadn’t heard that word in so long.
They arranged to meet her at the doorway a little after 7pm and said goodbye. Now all the boys had to do was keep busy and stay safe until then. It was the first time in ages that they had something to do at a particular time and, for some reason, it made the day even longer than usual. As they walked, Peter, who was normally happy enough to be without a particular destination in mind, asked where they were going, as if there were plenty of choices in the matter.
Yuri, feeling wonderfully cheerful, asked him in return, ‘Where would you like to go … and don’t say the statue of the dancing children?’
The way Peter pursed his lips made Yuri believe that he had guessed exactly what he had been about to say.
Hearing shouts in the distance, they veered off in another direction. ‘What did you do before the war, Peter? You can’t have looked at the statue every single day.’
The child was quiet for a few minutes and then said, ‘I went to school and then Larissa and me would go to her house to play. She let me go on her bike and then Mama would collect me for my dinner.’
It was the most Yuri had ever heard him say in one go.
‘Who’s Larissa?’
Peter looked bashful and tried not to smile, which made Yuri laugh.
‘Is she your girlfriend?’
Peter shrugged a baby shrug, ‘Yes.’
Yuri was in a giddy mood. ‘Are you going to marry her?’
Not appreciating that Yuri was getting so much fun out of what he was saying, Peter frowned a little as he said, ‘Yes, and we’re going to live on a farm, with lots of horses and dogs. And I’m going to drive a tractor.’
It sounded like a wonderful plan to Yuri, and he said as much, though he didn’t think that Peter believed he was sincere. They walked on in silence for a while until Peter’s curiosity forced him to ask, ‘Are you going to get married?’
Yuri guffawed, ‘You’re the first person ever to ask me that.’
The young boy looked pleased with himself, taking this as a compliment.
Yuri rubbed his nose. ‘I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it, but I suppose I will, one day.’
Peter asked an obvious question, ‘Do you have a girlfriend?’
Yuri detected a hint of smugness in his tone; that even though he was the oldest Peter had something he didn’t have. It was his turn to frown as he said somewhat gruffly, ‘Not yet!’ This sounded a lot better than just saying a plain ‘No!’ Then Yuri thought of another question: ‘Er … does Tanya have a boyfriend?’
The look the five-year-old gave him made him feel quite small and quite, quite silly.
‘Oy! You two!’ It wasn’t a shout, more like a loud whisper.
Yuri stopped suddenly; it was bewildering to hear a voice come out of nowhere. Holding out his hand for Peter to take, he was horribly aware of just how exposed they were, standing in the middle of what used to be a street.
The speaker must have had the very same thought since he snapped, ‘Get over here! Do you want to get yourselves shot?’
Two Russian soldiers appeared from behind a window, or what used to be a window, really it was just an empty square-shaped hole in the wall. Hoping he appeared a lot braver than he felt, to Peter, at least, Yuri approached them cautiously.
The taller one, whose face was so grimy that it made his teeth and eyes glisten like precious jewels, cocked his head at Peter, and asked, ‘How old is he?’
Peter’s hand tightened in his as Yuri stammered out, ‘He’s five.’
The soldier’s partner grunted, ‘He’s small enough, sir. A perfect fit, I’d say!’
Yuri gazed at him, wondering what he meant by ‘A perfect fit’.
The first soldier, seeing the boy’s fearful expression, put his hand on Yuri’s shoulder, ‘We need to borrow your little friend, comrade. We’ve a very important job for him to do. Is that alright?’
What could he say to this? Besides, before Yuri could say anything, the man had crouched down in front of Peter and asked him, ‘What is your name, friend?’
Peter’s reply was barely heard by any of them.
The soldier stood up again, telling them to follow him inside so that he could explain the situation to them, adding, ‘We don’t have much time.’
Yuri recognised the building, it used to be a bank – although no one would have guessed it because of the state it was in. The entire roof seemed to be lying on the floor like a crumpled blanket. Fortunately it wasn’t raining. Inside there were seven or eight other soldiers, sprawled across bricks and sharing out some bread and cigarettes.
‘This is our headquarters, for today.’ The friendlier of the two soldiers smiled. He called over to the group, ‘Private Guriev, bring over some of that food. I have two hungry boys here.’
‘Yes, sergeant!’
They were handed a thick, uneven cut of bread, along with two mouthfuls worth of sausage. What a feast! Neither of them had eaten meat in a long, long time. The sergeant watched them gulp down the meal. Once they had finished, it was down to business.
‘Okay, boys, take a seat.’
He gestured to the broken bits that almost covered the floor. Yuri picked out the biggest piece to sit down on, Peter almost sitting on his lap in his effort to stay as close as he could to him. There was one dusty chair and that was for the sergeant. He gave it a quick wipe with his grimy hand and asked, as he sat down, ‘Where were you boys off to anyway?’
Yuri answered him truthfully, ‘Nowhere really, sir. We walk around every day, looking for food and stuff.’
The sergeant was surprised, ‘Do you realise how dangerous that is? The Nazis are monsters; they wouldn’t spare your lives just because you’re children.’
Yuri resented being called a child but felt much too intimidated to complain.
The second soldier cleared his throat, ‘Sir?’ and pointed to his watch.
The sergeant nodded, ‘Yes, Rodimtsev, I know. Time, as usual, is against us’. He turned back to the boys, ‘The thing is, we suspect there to be a group of Nazis hiding out in the cellar, two buildings away from here. You were just about to pass by it when we saw you.’
Peter and Yuri glanced at one another. Peter looked so anxious that Yuri smiled at him to remind him they were safe here.
‘So, my problem is we cannot get near the building without risking men’s lives and we’ve lost too many already. We’d be seen immediately, and we need to know if it’s worth it. You know, if there are definitely soldiers there, how many they are, are there any wounded, or do they have many guns? You understand?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Yuri replied. In fact, he found all this fascinating. Up to now he had only been concerned with his and Peter’s existence, about what they would do every day and where they could go, forgetting there was a whole other life being lived by the soldiers here.
The sergeant beamed at him. ‘Good, good. Well, there is one way we could find out who we’re dealing with.’
Yuri nodded eagerly, but then felt a sudden chill when the man moved from beaming at him to beaming brilliantly at Peter. ‘We need somebody brave, about your size, to climb through a pipe, like a tunnel, that runs through the two buildings. At some point there will be a grill, or a hole, where you should be able to look down upon them.’
Yuri could hardly keep up with what was being said.
‘Do you think that you could be a big boy and help us. I’m sure you know how to count, don’t you?’
Peter looked at Yuri, and then at the sergeant, and announced solemnly, ‘I can count to twenty-two!’
The grumpy soldier rolled his eyes. ‘Pity’s sake!’
‘Hush, now,’ said the sergeant. ‘Show me how you can count, then.’
Peter let go of Yuri’s hand and stood up, and in a tiny voice, began at the beginning, ‘One, two, three …’ all the way to twenty-two.
‘Peter,’ muttered an incredulous Yuri, ‘Twenty-three comes next, like three comes after two.’
This information did not seem to interest the boy in the least and he sat back down again.
The sergeant, however, was satisfied, explaining, ‘Just knowing that there’s more than ten Germans would be a huge help to us.’
In spite of himself Yuri nodded again; what the man said made perfect sense however much he disliked the plan. ‘Sir,’ he asked, ‘Perhaps I could do it? I’m a good climber.’
The sergeant shook his head. ‘Afraid not, lad, you’re too wide.’
The sergeant understood the older boy’s concerns but did not bother to acknowledge them. That was the thing about war; one neither had the luxury of time nor a selection of cast-iron solutions. Once a decision was made there was nothing to do but put it in motion. So this usually kindly man ignored Yuri to concentrate fully on the timid child who looked to be the same age as his little Sasha. Stifling the thought that he would kill any man who would dare ask his child to do what he was asking of this boy, he focused on boosting Peter’s confidence, ‘So, what do you say, sonny? Do you want to crawl into the pipe and then come back and tell us what you see? You could do that, couldn’t you?’
Obviously, Yuri was more afraid for Peter than Peter was because he nodded his head and said proudly, ‘Yes, sir.’ Where was the scared little boy who couldn’t pee unless Yuri was with him?
The sergeant issued his instructions, ‘Now, you must be as quiet as can be. Just crawl very slowly, there’s no need to rush at all. It is so important that the Germans don’t hear you in the pipe.’ He stared at Yuri, beckoning him to back him up.
Yuri hesitated, unclear about his feelings, but one look at the sergeant’s face told him that this was going to happen no matter what. The least he could do was help Peter stay safe. He turned the boy to face him, ‘Listen, Peter, you cannot let the soldiers know that you’re there, and that you can see them, or they will be really, really angry with you. Do you understand?’
The little head bobbed up and down. ‘Yes, Yuri!’
‘Right, comrade. Let’s go then.’ The sergeant lifted him up and pretended to whisper, promising Peter that if he did a good job, he’d win a huge piece of sausage for both himself and his friend.
Peter flashed Yuri a smile of utter delight while Yuri felt a sudden sharp pain, as if his heart had been pierced right through.
‘Okay, boys, we have to go up the stairs to where the pipe is. Follow me.’
As they passed the exhausted group of soldiers, a couple of them quietly wished Peter good luck.
Heading up the broken steps, Yuri wasn’t at all convinced that Peter would go through with it, mostly expecting him to climb into the pipe, crawl a few inches forward and then come straight back to him, in tears. But he didn’t. In fact, Peter didn’t so much as glance in Yuri’s direction. Puffed out with the importance of having the sergeant place his trust in him, he simply climbed into the pipe, and disappeared almost immediately.
There was a nasty smell and it was dark, two things that normally would have stopped Peter in his tracks, but he wasn’t going to let them stop him now. In all his years – all five of them – he had never been asked to do something important for a grown-up. Larissa had once asked him to kiss her, which had felt important, but this was completely different. He knew he had surprised Yuri with his bravery and now he wanted to show the sergeant what he could do. Wondering how much longer the pipe was, he crawled forward using his elbows and knees, making sure to do so as quietly and carefully as possible.
He knew that the men he would be counting were the ones who had destroyed his home and taken his mother away from him forever. They were bad men, while the sergeant and his friends were the good ones, so they should be the winners. And that was what he was helping them to do: win.
A few minutes later, he heard muffled voices talking in a language he didn’t recognise which meant that they must be German. Holding his breath, he stopped moving but then remembered that he had to count the men, not just know that they were definitely there. What a silly boy he was. He almost forgot the most important thing. Edging himself forward again, he pretended he was a snail with a heavy shell and could only move very, very slowly. Snails never made a sound, no matter what. They didn’t whistle like birds, or click like beetles, or chirp like crickets. But could they hear stuff? And when their shells were taken off them they looked like lumps of grey snot. It felt like there was snot dribbling out of his nose but he was determined not to sniff. Instead, he used the back of his hand to wipe away whatever was there. Peter believed he was being an excellent snail and, on top of everything, he could listen to the soldiers below.
There was light up ahead from a small hole in the pipe. It wasn’t that big, but when he peeked through it he could see a room below containing a group of men. This was exciting, sneaking up on people who had no idea he was there. Grinning to himself in the darkness, Peter strained his eyes to see as much as he could. Well, they were soldiers alright, all wearing the same dirty uniform, and he could see guns too. One soldier was trying to look out the window, without being seen from outside. Peter could have taught him a thing or two about that, since children were a lot better than adults at hiding and spying.
Two soldiers were hunched over a box on the floor; one was talking into a telephone while his friend was writing in his notebook. Two more soldiers sat on the floor cleaning their rifles. They smoked and talked to one another in low murmurs. None of the men appeared to be enjoying themselves, but then the Russian soldiers didn’t seem very happy either, although the sergeant was nice and friendly to him. Peter was glad he wasn’t a soldier; it looked really boring. He was about to start pushing himself backwards when a sudden movement in a corner of rubble caught his eye. What was that? Inching himself forward another tiny bit, he waited to see it again. There! Something was definitely there. The soldiers hadn’t noticed anything, but Peter was on red alert. Moving his head this way and that, he wished someone would push the broken bricks out of the way. Whatever it was, it was darting up between them and disappearing immediately after. Wait a minute, he knew what it was, it’s a rat! And he was the only one who knew it was there. It’s spying on the soldiers just like him; isn’t it clever? Wait until I tell Yuri I saw a rat and I wasn’t afraid of it!
Peter had been quite scared of the rats in the sewer. They were so big and there were so many of them, but here it was different. Nothing could touch him while he was all the way up here. The rat edged itself out through a tiny crack, stood up on its two back legs, its nose daintily prodding the air, and still, no one noticed it. Peter felt giddy as he stiffened his body to catch every single second of the fun. However, his jam-packed nose was annoying him so he instinctively did a big sniff to suck the gooey snot back up inside his head and out of the way. Ah, that was better.
In an instant he knew he had done something wrong, though really all he had done was sniff his nose and there was nothing wrong with that. But perhaps he shouldn’t have since the soldier who had been staring out the window was now staring hard at the ceiling. He said something to the two who were cleaning their rifles, and they peered up too. Peter wondered if he should go back now, but then felt the word NO vibrate through his entire being, so he stayed put. His cheeks were red with shame; he really did not want to get into trouble. Forgetting all about the rat, he pretended he was one of the laughing children at the fountain who couldn’t ever move no matter how frightened they got. The soldier at the window raised his rifle in Peter’s direction and, for a second, or two, nobody stirred or said a word. Peter felt his heartbeat quicken and it hurt to breathe quietly. He was afraid of getting caught, making the Germans angry and upsetting the sergeant and Yuri. Not even the gun aimed at the area around his head prompted him to worry about anything worse than that.
One of the soldiers sitting on the floor exchanged a glance with his friend and got to his feet, his rifle pointing in the same direction. Peter’s scalp began to itch. It started off as a little niggle just above his ear, and stretched into a full-blown, head-thrashing kind of itch, where it felt like every hair on his head was being tugged by hungry lice.
Meanwhile, all Yuri could do was wait with the sergeant and his corporal, which wasn’t as easy as it sounded. He asked, ‘If something happens, can we fetch him back straight away? Will we be able to hear him if he needs us?’
The sergeant kept himself too busy to look at Yuri, taking his time to find a cigarette in his pocket and then begin a second search for his box of matches, eventually saying, ‘Oh … sure, sure.’
Yuri was not comforted by this answer. It was as if he had asked if the sky was blue, and the sergeant hadn’t bothered checking outside to discover that the sky was actually grey with dark clouds; he’d merely said blue since most people believed that blue was the nicest colour for the sky, and, therefore, the nicest answer of all.
Yuri sat down to wait but then stood back up again. Needing to move around, he walked over to a window to gaze through it.
‘Wouldn’t do that, son,’ warned the sergeant, as his corporal seemed ready to tackle him to the ground. ‘There are snipers everywhere, especially in this area.’
Feeling more than a little embarrassed, Yuri returned to where he had been sitting. ‘Sorry!’
The sergeant settled himself onto a few of the bigger bricks and began to blow rings of smoke towards the sky. ‘It’s all about learning lessons, at the end of the day. What’s your name anyway?’
‘Yuri. Yuri Bogdanov.’
‘Well, Yuri Bogdanov, have you heard of the legendary Vasily Zaitsev, our top sniper?’
Yuri replied, ‘No, sir.’
The corporal, who had been watching him rather suspiciously, asked, ‘Do you know what a sniper is?’
Blushing guiltily, Yuri hated admitting, ‘Well, no. Not really.’
‘Huh!’ the corporal exclaimed. ‘Thought as much!’
The sergeant smiled at both their sulky faces. ‘Really, Rodimtsev, why would he know? He’s not in the army, is he?’ Taking a puff of his cigarette, he went on to explain, ‘A sniper is a special soldier with perfect eye-sight, a steady hand, a great deal of patience and, of course, his rifle. His job is to hide somewhere, if necessary for days on end, in order to get as close as possible to the Fritzes to shoot as many as he can. He has to lie completely still since any movement will attract the attention of the German sniper who is looking, in turn, to kill him.’
Ignoring the corporal’s smirk, Yuri nodded at the sergeant, grateful for the lesson.
‘Now, our Vasily has his own system. He uses a shop dummy, wearing bits of Red Army uniform, and positions it where the Germans will see it. Naturally they think it’s a Russian sniper and they fire at it from wherever they are hiding, in other words letting Vasily know exactly where they are. And that’s how he always gets his man.’ The sergeant took a long pull on his cigarette. ‘Never forget this, Yuri, the best plan is usually the simplest one.’
A second or two passed while Yuri thought about this and then his eyes flickered once more to the pipe. Noting this, the sergeant asked, ‘How long has it been now, Rodimtsev?
‘Twelve minutes, sir.’
‘Hmm, early days yet, I’d say. Wouldn’t you agree?’
The corporal grimaced. ‘With all respect, sir, you did tell him to take his time.’
His superior blinked heavily and sighed, ‘Yes, Corporal Rodimtsev, I certainly did, because it didn’t make sense to have the child stumble and be riddled with bullets before he had a chance to tell us anything!’
Yuri swallowed a gasp and shot Rodimtsev the dirty look he deserved. ‘Sir?’ A question had just occurred to him and he felt the sergeant just might be able to answer it. ‘When will it – the war – be over?’
The man stubbed out his cigarette on the ground beside him and said, ‘As soon as we clobber the Nazis, Yuri, as soon as that. But I tell you this much, we have to win.’
Yuri was not impressed with being told something that was all too obvious. Of course they had to win the war, what was the point otherwise? The sergeant decided to explain some more, ‘Hitler is overcoming all his enemies, country by country. So, it is up to us to stop him. We have got to win this battle, Yuri. The world is holding its breath because if he takes Stalingrad, it makes it easier for him to take Russia, and if he takes Russia, then God help us all. In other words, this city is playing host to one of the most important battles ever to take place.’
Too overwhelmed to make a decent reply, Yuri could only say ‘Oh’.
Peter was determined not to move until he really, really had to. He could win this game, he was sure he could, the game of who could stay still the longest. The two soldiers hushed the others and stood firmly side by side with their rifles propped against their shoulders. Peter fancied they looked a little scared too, perhaps they thought he was a ghost. His head was itchy though, getting worse and worse. The only thing he wanted more than anything else in the world was to scratch it, just one quick, hard scratch, that’s all. His fingers ached to do their business. Surely it would be okay. Closing his eyes, blocking out the Germans, he finally gave in, sliding his right hand up to the crown of his head and tearing at it as fast as he could. At the sound of shouting, he opened his eyes again.
Yuri jumped up while the sergeant lowered his head. An expression of genuine surprise flitted across the corporal’s face as he looked over at the pipe’s opening, hoping for an answer.
‘Is that them, the Germans next door?’ Yuri asked, desperately wanting someone to contradict him.
Rodimtsev walked over to the pipe, poked his head inside and listened for anything at all. His sergeant lit another cigarette and studied his boots.
Yuri stood, petrified, waiting for someone to say something. He couldn’t understand the two men; they didn’t seem to appreciate that Peter could be hurt, that those bullets could have been fired at him. ‘Sir,’ he asked, ‘what are we going to do?’
The sergeant decided that now was as good a time as any to tell a simple truth, ‘Nothing. We can do nothing.’
Peter was trembling all over, and much too shocked to cry for the rat that had been splattered all over the floor. The two soldiers laughed and shook hands while the boy above them had had enough, he crawled backwards, able to ignore the lice and his dribbling nose thanks to the killing he had just witnessed. One day he might realise that the rat had saved him from a similar fate. He edged himself back, looking forward to seeing Yuri again and to receiving his prize of more food.
‘Listen!’ said Rodimtsev. ‘Someone is coming.’
Taking comfort in the fact that there was no way for a man to fit in the pipe, Yuri stood beside the corporal, straining his ears for a hint that the sound of shuffling was definitely Peter. He leant forward and was rewarded with the sound of a familiar little sniff. That nose could be completely dry of anything and he’d still have to sniff as if he had a bad cold. Sure enough, Peter’s feet gradually appeared in view. Yuri waited, dazed, fighting the urge to cry out in relief. Muscling Rodimtsev out of the way, he made sure that he was the one to pull Peter out of the pipe. Peter was triumphant in his return, though innocent of how narrow his chances had been just a few minutes earlier. He smiled at the three of them in turn.
‘Well?’ said the corporal, impatiently.
‘I saw them!’ was all that Peter would say.
‘Did someone shoot you?’ asked Yuri.
‘No,’ sniffed Peter, ‘it was a rat, but I saw him first!’
‘C’mon, boys,’ said the sergeant, ‘Let’s go back downstairs for some more grub and Peter can tell us everything then.’
Yuri trailed after Peter as he happily walked ahead of him, his hand in the sergeant’s instead of his own. Rodimtsev was behind him, Yuri imagined the corporal smirking at his back as he watched Peter ignore him for the more exciting figure of the sergeant.
Downstairs, they went to a quiet corner, away from the rest of the men. Sausage was duly presented to the boys, the sergeant making a face at Rodimtsev to let him know that he would be conducting the enquiry. ‘Well, young man, you deserve this. So, what did you see? Do your best to remember everything.’
Peter nodded as he gulped down the meat. ‘I saw soldiers, and I wasn’t scared!’
‘Of course you weren’t,’ said the sergeant. ‘And how many soldiers were there?’
Peter took a moment to think before saying, in a worried voice, ‘I forget.’
Rodimtsev exploded with a curse, making the boys jump. His sergeant immediately asked him to fetch him some water. The corporal marched off, looking disgusted with all of them.
‘Okay, now, Peter. It’s just the three of us,’ said the sergeant, ‘Take your time and don’t worry if you can’t remember everything. Can you tell me what the soldiers were doing?’
Peter put on a very proper thinking expression, screwing up his forehead and squeezing his eyes closed. ‘Mmmm. One was talking on a telephone, his friend was holding it for him, it was in a black box. One man was writing in a notebook, he looked sad.’
‘Good boy!’ said the sergeant, ‘Was there anyone else there with them?’
Scrunching up his face again, Peter suddenly remembered, ‘One man had a big, long gun; he was hiding behind the window.’
‘Right, lad,’ nodded the sergeant, ‘So that’s three soldiers altogether. Were there more than that?’
Peter looked at Yuri for help, his face a picture of remorse. ‘I don’t know!’
Yuri had an idea. ‘Peter, look at the men over there.’
Peter did as he was told.
‘Now, were there more men than that?’
There was a pause before the small boy shrugged and said, ‘The same. I think.’
It was enough for the sergeant, ‘Well done, boys, well done!’
Rodimtsev rejoined the group, presenting the water to his boss, who told him, ‘There’s about the same amount of Germans as us, Rodimtsev, according to young Peter here. They have a phone, so they’re in communication, and one of them was writing. Isn’t that right, Peter?’
‘Yes, sir!’
‘That means they’re receiving orders of some kind.’
‘The man looked sad, the one who was writing.’ Peter wanted the corporal to know this, and received a brief nod as thanks.
The sergeant grew brisk; it was time for the boys to leave. ‘Right, off with the pair of you! You’ve both been a great help to us and your country. And you never know, perhaps we’ll run into one another again.’ He strode towards his men, leaving Rodimtsev to escort the boys back through the gap that was the front door. As he scanned the area the grumpy corporal whispered, ‘As quick as you can, back down the street. Don’t waste any time looking back, just keep going.’
Neither Peter nor Yuri bothered to say goodbye to him.