Sergei And Hans by Dennis Santaniello

Author:Dennis Santaniello
Language: eng
Format: epub

V

When I woke up I finally saw the sun again. I still couldn't believe I was alive. I got up and walked around. The cold caught me in every bone. I tried to look for any remnant of my platoon. There were fresh tracks I followed for a quarter mile. I noticed all the tracks derived from a near ravine. I followed them and what I saw next made me cringe.

There were a dozen bodies scattered about, frozen and half buried in the snow. I noticed a difference between these corpses and the ones I found in the mud the other day. These corpses seem sadder. Their faces were gray and blue, and all had the same wretched frozen look. Some with their eyes closed and others with their eyes open. Their hands were black, and they were truly resting. The birds above and the rats below would have plenty to eat now. That is until the next storm.

It was too cold for reason. I stopped and stared so many times. It all seemed like a distant vision. It was a bright, young day and sunny. I knew if I stood and stared like I wanted to, I'd eventually die of something. It was all too much to take in. I kept moving.

And so I was alone, absolute, and without question. I had never known that feeling. I thought I would love it, and in the beginning I did. It didn't seem real. For hours I trudged through the snow. The rest of life seemed so far away, and I was glad for the moment.

The quiet took over. There were no shots fired, no shells exploding, no orders shouted to me from on high by the collective authority, or any soul of any kind to remind me of what happened yesterday. There was only the mountain, the sun, the snow, and the dips and tugs of wind. As far as I was concerned, the war was over. At least for me. All I saw was snow and sun, so that's all I thought about. And it led me to dream. I dreamt that I'd see you again, Anya, and I allowed myself to think that maybe all of this walking would eventually lead me back home. I thought to myself that the mountain was smaller than it actually was, that my imagination was stronger, that home was just beyond the other side. It seemed ludicrous, but it kept me going, Anya. It kept me alive.

I long forgot about God, but for whatever reason I thought I would see Him here. Here of any place would seem the most appropriate. I long thought of what to say to him. What jokes I would tell. What questions I longed to ask. But, in actuality, if I did see him, the meeting would go exactly as I would have expected. I would just stare at him and not say a word, and he'd probably do the same. That bastard. We'd probably stare at each other as long as we deemed necessary.

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