War Girls Complete Collection Chapter 187

Chapter 1: Stan

Somewhere in Poland, November 1944

S

tanislaw Zdanek, called Stan, and his friend Bartosz stepped into the partially destroyed building keeping their weapons at the ready.

Adrenaline surged through Stan’s body, sending his heart throbbing against his chest. It felt good to actually fight and not merely sabotage the Germans who’d ruled Poland with an iron fist for six years. After years of hiding, the members of the Polish Home Army had finally joined the open battle against the Nazis.

“Clear!” Stan shouted and waved at his comrades.

They stepped out from their cover and searched the rest of the ruins for German soldiers. But they had left earlier in the day, taking to their heels with the overpowering Red Army approaching further south.

Slowly, civilians crawled out from their damaged houses, faces smeared with dirt, but wearing happy smiles. Even after witnessing the liberations of dozens of Polish villages, a lump formed in Stan’s throat.

That’s it. We’re free again. The Nazi vermin is done for

.

Obviously he’d never show weakness in the presence of his comrades and so he swallowed down the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. After the devastating defeat of the Warsaw Uprising, it had taken the Home Army quite some time to regroup and boost morale.

But now they were back to free their country and avenge the deaths of hundreds of thousands in the former capital – Warsaw had been razed to the ground. If Stan could believe the stories told, there wasn’t a single building standing in the city that had previously hosted close to a million citizens.

A peachy young woman, undernourished like most everyone in war-torn Europe, approached the group of soldiers and pressed a kiss on Stan’s whiskered cheek.

“Thank you for liberating us,” she said and cast him a smile.

His comrades cheered and demanded kisses as well, until their commanding officer stopped the spectacle. They left a few posts on the watch in the village and retreated for some much-needed food and sleep in the empty concrete school building.

“You’d better get that beard trimmed or you’ll never score another kiss,” a comrade teased.

“Yeah, did you see her look of disgust?” another one chimed in.

Stan glanced around and scrubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw. He wasn’t the only one with a dirt-smeared face and a badly trimmed beard. But freedom seemed to top cleanliness in priorities right now, and the Home Army fighters clearly had hero-appeal for the local women.

Cracking his neck a few times and running the same hand over his cropped blond hair, he tossed the offender a smirk. “You’re just jealous of my good looks.”

Everyone laughed and continued to wolf down the food generously provided by the villagers. Stan wiped his mouth, groaned and dropped flat on the bare floor. Months ago, he’d stopped bothering to take off his boots and he was sound asleep before his head even hit the pillow provided by his backpack.

Shouts of alarm jerked him from sleep and Stan grabbed the rifle propped up at his side before shooting to his feet, eyes still closed.

“Red Army approaching!” someone shouted and a sigh of relief went through the room. The Red Army was on their side; they had nothing to fear from the Russians. After a few short greetings, the Russian commanding officer approached Stan’s superior. Stan couldn’t understand their whispered words, but the expression on his superior’s face didn’t augur well.

“What do you think they want?” Stan asked Bartosz, who stood by his side.

“Probably some quarrel about who gets to claim the praise,” Bartosz said, rather disinterested.

“Everyone listen,” the Russian officer spoke up and waited until all the noise had died down in the room. “We’re offering everyone here the opportunity to voluntarily join the great Soviet Army.”

A whispering went through the ranks amongst those who understood Russian.

“I’ll be damned if I join their army,” Stan murmured to Bartosz while a Russian soldier translated the officer’s words to the group.

The new soldier added, “Those who don’t take up our generous offer will have to lay down their weapons; they are hereby arrested.”

Before his men could protest, Stan’s superior said, “As I see it, there’s not much of a choice involved. Do what is best for Poland. You won’t be of any use to our country in a Siberian Gulag.”

“So who’s with us against the Nazis?” the Russian officer asked.

Stan barely reined in his temper and groaned beneath his breath. “Obviously, we’re against the Nazis but that doesn’t make me a friend of these bastards.”

“Same here,” Bartosz whispered.

Looking into the faces of his comrades, Stan noticed that none of them liked the

generous

offer the Russians had extended. But in spite of their disdain, one by one his fellow soldiers moved forward to sign their names on the list for joining the Red Army.

More than one of the men had to swallow down a lump before they provided their names and handed over the red and white armband identifying them as Home Army.

Stan clenched his fists, and then his jaw, ready to pounce at the Russian officer and take down at least two or three of the hateful bastards before going down himself. Bartosz though, had known his friend long enough to be aware of Stan’s short fuse and put a hand on his arm, whispering, “Don’t.”

“Some choice,” Stan growled between clenched teeth.

“Right, man. But I for one want to live and fight. You with me?”

“I’m doing this only because they force my hand, but you can be sure I’ll slit their throats at my first opportunity.” The next moment Stan felt Bartosz’s hand in his back, pushing him forward.

“We want to volunteer,” Bartosz announced and put both of their names on the list.

Stan glared at his friend but reluctantly admitted that joining the Red Army was a far cry better than ending up in Siberia. Technically, they were allies, so it wasn’t like defecting to the enemy. He’d fight under the Soviet banner alright, but at the first opportunity, he’d turn on his heels and escape.