This story is dedicated to all the soldiers of all nations who served in World War II, the Victorious, Defeated and the Fallen. Remember that for our today they gave their tomorrow.
I've noticed that there aren't enough stories here about Reznov and Dmitri who are fucking tanks and overall badasses. This leads on from the final scene in World at War where the Soviet flag is raised over the Reichstag.
"Claim our victory!" cheered Sergeant Grigory Reznov as young Dmitri Petrenko took the Soviet Flag from the fallen corpse of the previous flag bearer and began to advance towards the place where the Nazi Swastika flew scornfully yet unprotected.
The last of the SS Honour Guard on the roof of the Reichstag had been brutally cut down by the vengeful soldiers of the Red Army. Some gurgled as they leaked blood, others cried out for their mothers and wives, sons and daughters whilst others turned their weapons on themselves to save themselves the dishonour of their inglorious end at the hands of the Communists. All around, the rotten heart of the Fascist Reich Berlin was in utter ruin. Hitler's capital city was on fire and crumbling to ruins all around. The Nazi cancer was being cut out and thrown to the flames of vengeance.
For Dmitri, this was the end of a monumental journey of blood and revenge not only for him but for the many close to him whom he had lost, his friends in the massacre at the square in Stalingrad where he and Reznov had been the only survivors or his sister and father who had been butchered by the Wehrmacht during the Siege of Leningrad and of course Chernov, brave Chernov who had helped him keep his hold on Humanity when the Red Mist descended.
Maybe now after this final symbolic act of revenge for his countrymen, Dmitri could finally sleep undisturbed by the atrocities he had seen, the horrors he had committed and the overwhelming losses he had suffered.
Twenty feet from the flagpole Dmitri wearily jumped down, flag at the ready, eager to replace the Swastika with the Hammer and Sickle and just let it be over at last. Too late, he saw the injured SS Trooper weakly stand up and raise his Walther P38 in one last act of spiteful, bitter defiance.
Pain exploded in Dmitri's chest as the point blank pistol round tore into his chest cavity. Vaguely he could hear Reznov shout out his name in shock as he leapt to his friends defence, battle knife drawn and hungry for blood. Again and again, Reznov's knife fell upon the injured SS Trooper, parting flesh and bone like a hot knife through butter and with one last cry of hatred, Reznov threw the German from the roof of the Reichstag and ran to help Dmitri.
"You can make it my friend" said Reznov to Dmitri as he hoisted the young Russian soldier unsteadily to his feet "you always survive". Turning, the grizzled Sergeant drew his bloodstained battle knife and with a savage cry of hatred hacked down the swastika flag of the hated Nazi Reich with one powerful swing of his blade.
"The honour should be yours" he said, urging Dmitri on towards the sandbag barricade at the edge of the roof. Staggering and in terrible pain, Dmitri had no strength left in his war weary body yet somehow he urged himself on for the final couple of metres and with one last ounce of strength left, he planted the Soviet flag into the sandbags next to where the Swastika had been.
Finally it was over at last. Their victory was finally complete, the moment they had dreamed of for nearly four years. Down below in the square beneath the Reichstag, the assembled Russian Soldiers exploded with sound. Cheers and shouts of joy went up from all there from lowly Privates to the Commissars and political officers. The War was finally over and everyone, German and Russian knew it.
"As long as you live, the heart of this army can never be broken" said Reznov with the first proper smile on his face for the first time in years. It was a genuinely joyous smile not a bloodthirsty grin that promised swift death for the Fascist Invader. "Things will change my friend! As heroes we shall return to Russia's Embrace" Even as the Sergeant raised his battle knife in triumph, Dmitri could not stand any longer and fell to the ground again.
"Dmitri? Dmitri! Talk my friend, what is wrong?" Only now did Reznov see that the wound his friend had sustained from the pistol had been more than a mere flesh wound. Blood was leaking out from beneath his uniform and trickling to the floor where it mingled with the blood of the dead German. Gingerly so as not to injure his friend any further, Reznov turned his friend onto his side and saw an exit hole the size of an acorn where even more blood and vital fluids was leaking out of his friend.
Reznov felt like something inside of him had just turned to ash. He should have seen the severity of Dmitri's wound sooner. Dmitri had perhaps minutes left to live. Reznov was no expert on the Human Body but he knew the places where a well placed bullet could kill a man even one as remarkably resilient as Dmitri Petrenko. The War it seemed had finally taken its toll on him.
"Stay with me please" murmured Dmitri clasping Reznov's hand firmly even as his body weakened. "Stay with me Reznov old friend" All around their comrades gathered to observe the sombre scene. Many realized that Petrenko was a goner and removed their helmets and fur hats out of respect.
"No! Don't be stupid Dmitri you're not dying you CAN'T die! Not now, not after all this!" cried Reznov, his grief catching up with him. Chernov's death had shaken him but this was too much to bear. "You always survive my friend! Remember all those things we did together all the things we survived? In Stalingrad we cheated death so many times! Remember Kursk, Seelow even the damned tank battle? You can't just die on me, not now!"
"I've . . . always wondered why we survived the Square Grigory. Perhaps this is why" said Dmitri as he weakly gestured to the Soviet Flag that now flew over the conquered city. "When you return to our Motherland, enjoy it. Earn your peace after all this war, you've more than earned my friend."
"But you were supposed to survive as well!" lamented Reznov, voice starting to break.
"I'm . . . glad that at least . . . one of us lived to see a world without Fascism" Dmitri smiled as he looked past Reznov's shoulder at something only he could see. The grip on the grizzled sergeant's hand slackened as the Hero of Stalingrad finally found peace whilst all Reznov could do was watch him die.
For the first time in far too many years, Grigory Reznov began to cry.
Sniff, sorry for killing Dmitri the badass D': I feel if have just ripped off every death scene ever. Please feel free to tell me about this or anything else that may have been bad. Have a nice day and keep the memory of the World War II generation sacred and alive.
The Spiritlood of the dead German.
Blood wa