SNIPER: 1942

You loaded your scoped Mosin-Nagant 91-30. You are cold, tired, hungry, and thirsty; but, there is work to be done.
"Mikhail." Your spotter and fellow sniper, Sergei Trzemin, hissed.
"Look, there, in the old cafe." You looked through your scope and into the shattered remnant of a restaraunt accross the river. Inside were two German Majors and a German Colonel, as well as two guards, both armed with German standard-issue 98-k bolt-action rifles.
"What are we going to do?" Sergei whispered again. You had no idea why he was whispering.
"Sergei. you dont have to whisper. They can't hear us." All of a sudden, from behind you; "Hände hoch!" It was German for hands up.
"Chyort" You muttered as you and Sergei both raised your hands, turning around slowy. Before you stood two German soldiers, both holding MP-40s, and both looking scared out of their wits. They tried to display their authority by moving close and sticking the barrels of their sub-machine guns in their two prisoner's chests. This was their flaw. Before they realized what happened, the two of you quickly knocked them out cold.
"Sergei," you said, "I think I have a plan.."

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"This uniform is too tight," Sergei complained, "And we don't even know how to work these weapons."
"How hard can it be? They are guns, right? Just point and pull the trigger.." The two of you left the two Germans, hands tied and mouths gagged, in a locked room where your comrades on patrol would find them shortly. You and Sergei stashed your gear, and began your trek across the river, doing your best to look and act like Germans

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"Heil Hitler."
You nearly threw up when you said this. Sergei stood beside you uneasily, but the Germans didn't seem to notice. You studied them; the colonel, with his black, shiny hair, his blue eyes, and his neatly pressed uniform. The two majors, one fat, shifty-eyed, and sweating nervously; the other thin, tall, and carrying himself as though he were a much higher rank. Then there were the two guards, one, a battle-hardened veteran with a gaze that seemed to bore into your soul, the other a young German boy, probably only 18 and fresh from training. The young boy kept looking at his rifle, turning it over in his hands, as though he couldn't believe his fellow soldiers expected him to kill someone with it. He set the rifle down and came over to you, smiling as he showed you a picture.
"Alexandra," He said. You looked, it was a black-and-white photo of a girl, probably 18, smiling and waving to the camera. Your stomach turned. Having been a sniper, you didn't feel comfortable with this up-close-and-personal assault.
"He has to be taken prisoner, he must get home to her," you thought to yourself. Your thoughts then drifted to Svetlana. Ahh, Svetlana.. Before this wretched war had begun, the two of you had been planning on getting married.. Now, she was safe, far away.. Sometimes the only thing that kept you going was the memory of the night the two of you had gone out for a picinic and sat in the wheat fields of her father's farm, talking about the future.. You were young, but you both knew what you wanted then, and you knew what you needed to do now.

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Quickly knocking the young boy out and pushing him behind you to Sergei, you opened fire on the four remaining Germans. They didnt even have time to move, and it was all over. You and Sergei tossed the guns to the ground, picked up the boy, and ran out of the cafe quickly.
"I do not like this.." Sergei muttered.
"I could not kill this poor boy.. He reminds me of myself.. Or at least, how I used to be, when I was innocent and ignorant.."
"Yes, well, don't let it get in the way of your duties as a soldier.."
"It won't." You knew why Sergei was worried. It is an incredibly personal thing to be a sniper, to choose the exact moment at which you end your enemy's life.. However, as far as you were concerned, it was different this time.. It was different when you had a conversation with your enemy, when you exchanged (fake) stories and shared some cogniac with hm.. It was different when he smiled at you, believing you were his friend, not his foe.. You shook these thoughts away as you deposited the prisoner with your comrades, having already changed clothes back into your real uniforms.
"Come, Sergei.. We must find a new position."

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You watched the staff car as it waited outside the German division command post. You and Sergei knew there would be at least one, but likely more, high ranking German officers departing momentarily. You also knew that you had to take them out at the exact right moment. Minutes passed, and you watched as two enlisted men played cards on the steps of the command post. Another soldier played with his dog, tossing a stick which the dog would then retrieve. You wondered how they would react when your bullets struck their commanding officers who were currently inside, probably drinking cogniac. Sergei seemed to be reading your mind, because he said, as if on cue,
"Their blue eyes will go wide and they will run for cover before trying to fire back at that which they cannot see, as always.." You knew he was right. Men, in panic situations, all seemed to react the same way.. You might occasionally get one who is foolish enough to forget about self preservation and just spray an area with lead.. Those men, if they do not survive, are branded as fools, and are looked down upon by everyone.. However, if they survive, they are heros, and children are told to look up to them.. You decided, as you thought about that, that fate, and life, and war are all crazy and fickle.. Your thoughts again drifted back to Svetlana..

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"Mikhail!" You snapped back to the present. Before he said anything more, you could see what Sergei had roused you from your daydreams for. The Germans were leaving the division command post. Getting into the car were two Colonels and a Brigadier General.
"Sergei. we take out the driver and the General, then we take out the two Colonels, if there is time."
"there will be time. I'll take the driver. The honor should be yours." Sergei lifts his rifle to his shoulder, peering through the scope, as do you. In the car, you see the General laughing as he fumbles for a cigar.
"Someone must have told a joke.", you thought, your finger resting on the trigger.
"On three."
You put the crosshairs on the General's side.
"One."
You inhale slowly.
"Two."
You exhale slowly, watching the General light the cigar.
"Three!" You pull the trigger, cutting the life of the General off just as Sergei's bullet ends the life of the driver. You quickly work the bolt to reload the rifle, zeroing in on the Colonel sitting next to the General. He is screaming in terror, trying to open the door when it hits him.

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You and Sergei are now sitting in the bombed-out shell of a church, having escaped easily from your sniping position.
"Hand me the vodka, Sergei... I need a drink..." You pull out a pen and paper, and begin to write.
"What are you doing?" Sergei asks.
"Writing a letter.. To Svetlana.." You take a drink of vodka and continue writing.