December 24th, 1942. The city of Stalingrad.


"Stalingrad...Massengrab. Every seven seconds, a German soldiers dies. Stalingrad - Massengrab."
The monotone voice blared from the speakers, just over the tick-tock of a clock. It was meant to demoralize the Nazis caught in the Cauldron. it ran almost in a loop, only interrupted when the operator had to put the needle back to start.
One of the German Comrades who had to flee Germany after the Nazis took power was happy to help the Red Army by recording messages to his fellow countrymen, begging them to surrender. Or telling them that this would be their mass grave.

Many in the Red Army didn't want them to surrender. "Let them starve." Yelena's leytenant would say, usually following it up with spitting on the ground.

It was late afternoon and the Russian winter had come with all it's might to Stalingrad. Yelena and the rest of their platoon were just receiving orders from Secretary Khrushchev. Well, technically, the orders came from Polkovnik Sherkov, but the politician was the only one speaking.
"A month ago, we surrounded the fascists here at Stalingrad and we are slowly tightening the noose. But today, they are celebrating Christmas. We cannot allow them a night of peace and rest! Tonight, you will strike terror into their hearts and make them piss themselves in their boots!"

He walked down the rows of soldiers, all of them snipers in various stages in their training. "Each of you will give me at least 5 dead fascists today. Every dead fascist is one point. Every dead petty officer is 3 points. Every dead officer is worth 5 points. If you manage to wound them, they count twice as much. But you owe me 5 dead fascists! Generalissimo Stalin deserves 5 dead fascists! Whoever has the most points will receive a commendation. Are there any questions, comrades?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:52, Tue 30 June 2020.

Yelena smirked and looked skyward as she listened to the recording being played over the speakers. The supply flights by the Luftwaffe had been too few and far between to supply the German army trapped in Stalingrad. Mass Grave was right, and it brought a smile to the lips of the Soviet sniper.

The Nazis had left many mass graves to the west as they'd moved their way through Eastern Europe. And here, finally, was a chance for revenge. Letting them starve would be fine. But shooting them in the head would be better. Yelena relished the opportunity to send these invaders to hell where they belonged. And there would be no better time to send them to hell than on Christmas Eve. While she didn't yell out her agreement, Yelena did stomp her boots in agreement with the sentiment.

She had taken to the soldier's life with relative ease, thanks to her uncles. One was an officer himself, the other had taught her how to hide, shoot, and survive. Without them she would be working as a clerk in the Red Army's logistics corps. Which would be relatively more safe, but then she wouldn't get to shoot fascists.

Each of you will give me at least 5 dead fascists today.

"Da." She didn't know if a response was desired, but she gave one anyway. The rest she thought to herself. At least five today. And then the same tomorrow. And the next day. She thought about the rifle she now owned, wondering to whom it had originally been issued. It had come to her in the way these things usually did. She had been operating as a spotter for another when he had been killed by an enemy sniper. And then the rifle was hers. It had seen a lot of use, but that just meant that there were no edges to the wood, only smooth curves.

Are there any questions, comrades?

She did have one question. "How soon can we start, comrade?" She didn't have any particular love for Stalin. His policies were questionable at best. But he seemed at least marginally better than Hitler. And she wasn't killing Nazis for Stalin. There were many other ghosts for whom she would fight and kill.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 17:33, Tue 30 June 2020.

"I like your enthusiasm, Comrade!" the secretary beams at you. "What is your name, soldier?"

Yelena straightened to attention and snapped a smart salute, holding it while she responded. "Ryadovoy Yelena Malkin, Comrade Secretary." She released the salute, but stared straight ahead while being inspected by Khrushchev.

The secretary nodded with approval. "You keep that attitude, comrade ryadovoy, and soon you will be leading a platoon against the fascists."
He showed his teeth in a lopsides grin. "Leytenant Malkin. <i>Kapitan</i> Malkin. Polkovnik Malkin, eh?"
The Colonel behind him coughed.

He turned to the room. "Five dead fasiscts, comrades! Five tonight, or more! Then five more tomorrow. And five more the day after. We will make them pay for what they have done to the Rodina and to our people!"

Starshina Malekov raised his PPSh "URRA!" and the rest fell in with the cheers.

Yelena again saluted. "Yes, Comrade Secretary. I will keep this attitude. And now I will go kill some fascist invaders." She again released the salute as Khrushchev began speaking again to the others. She heard the words he spoke. Leytenant, Kapitan, Polkovnik...it sounded wonderful, but the cards were surely stacked against her. Senior Sergeant was about as high as she could reasonably expect to be promoted, though one never knew.

She slipped the rifle from her shoulder and thrust it into the air while joining in with the cheers. "Urra!" Stalingrad was already stained red. It would get redder today.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:53, Tue 30 June 2020.

(Alright, Dramatic Task time! Give me 5 notice rolls. Every success and raise identifies a potential target. Draw a card for each target, that will determine the rank of the enemy. Finally, a few shooting rolls (one per identified target). And then we'll see what happens.)