Historical note: Sniper schools were not uncommon in the Red Army during the Great Patriotic War of 1941-1945. Vassili Zaitsev set up a sniper school in Stalingrad in the machine shop of the Lazur Chemical Plant along with his friend and fellow sniper, Viktor Medvedev ... 'The Bear'. It is said that by the end of the war, one in every three Soviet soldiers was a qualified sniper. I have shamelessly gleaned the information from David Robbins' magnificent novel 'War of the Rats', and I would highly recommend you read it if you want to know what it was like being a sniper in Stalin's army.
**********************
Rivka took a step back and looked up at Nikolai.
"Well! Look at you!" She smiled. "Do you know how handsome you are, Niko?"
Lieutenant Colonel Nikolai Koulikov cocked an eyebrow at Rivka, then looked at himself in the old mirror beside the bed. He saw Rivka move to stand beside him so she too could look at his reflection.
This was his first day back on duty after nearly seven weeks of recovery, and she thought he looked very attractive in his new uniform. His gymnastiorka carried the shoulder boards denoting his new rank, two raspberry stripes with the twin stars, coupled with the sniper's badge. Nikolai had drawn the line, though, at wearing his medals and the red 'wound' stripe, unlike many decorated officers. His 'Sam Browne' belt gleamed, and his sharovari pants were tucked into glossy black leather boots. He put the finishing touch to his appearance when he settled the officer's pilotka on his head, the raspberry trim and red enamelled soviet star winking in the light. Straightening a little, he tugged the edge of the gymnastiorka down to neaten it, and decided he was ready.
Rivka's eyes shone with pride and not a little concern.
He's still too thin … but look at him! There is a pride in himself that I've never seen before.
"Well? What do you think? Will I do?" Nikolai's voice broke through her reverie.
She turned and put her hand flat on his chest in affection.
"You will do wonderfully, Nikolai." She reached up and planted a kiss on his lips, then smiled. "I am so proud of you …" He voice tailed away as a lump came to her throat. She was proud of him. She was proud of his intelligence, his humour, and his presence. She was proud of his gentleness and his fierce, protective love of her and the child she carried.
"Well, we'll see if I can teach these youngsters enough to keep 'em alive while Fritz is taking pot-shots at 'em … then you might have something to be proud of." He turned and looked down at Rivka. "I've never done this before, Rivka. I'll try not to let you down."
"Oh, for goodness sake, Nikolai Koulikov!" Rivka frowned at him. She knew he was nervous, although it was more a case of first-day nerves rather than lack of faith in his abilities. "You couldn't let me down if you tried, my lad! You'll be just wonderful, I know it! Now, less of all this silliness, and be off with you!"
Nikolai grinned cheekily.
"Righto, then. I'll see you tonight, my lady, and don't you go doing anything strenuous, you hear? Leave it for me when I get home … I mean it, Rivka! You be careful and if you get tired, woman, you rest!" He saw the slight tilt of her chin in defiance, but he was having none of it. She was over six months pregnant now and became tired very easily, and Nikolai privately fretted. Oleg told him she was fit and healthy and that Rivka needed to keep well, so a little exercise was all right, but no heavy lifting. Rivka had ignored Oleg's orders until Nikolai had caught her hauling water buckets down from the water pump.
Rivka was astounded at how angry Nikolai had been.
He had sat her on the sofa and then proceeded to gently tell her in no uncertain terms that she was a foolish woman, endangering both herself and their child. She was not to carry anything heavy again, and he, Nikolai Koulikov, would do the heavy work from now on. Rivka had arched an eyebrow in protest, but wisely said nothing. After he had finished his tirade, he had knelt at her feet and removed her shoes, swinging her legs up onto the sofa. Then he had covered her with a blanket, handed her a book and made her a mug of tea. She had lain quietly for the rest of the afternoon, and watched as Nikolai worked around her.
"All right, all right. I promise." She smiled up at him as the big sniper adjusted the forage cap slightly so it lay at the jaunty angle he preferred. Then lifting his rifle, he took a deep breath. He was ready.
"I'll see you tonight, and don't do too much!" Bending down he kissed her longingly on the lips and ran a gentle hand over her swollen abdomen. "And you, little one, don't you keep kicking your poor Mama - she's not getting enough sleep because you keep her awake. So, both of you get some rest today, while I'm away."
Rivka's lips twitched in amusement - Nikolai was turning into a nag, constantly fretting and worrying, constantly concerned for their welfare. God knows what he'll be like when I'm having the baby, she thought.
He kissed her again and turned away, and Rivka watched as he disappeared out of the old cellar out into a beautiful May spring day, the sun shining down onto the ruined city of Stalingrad.
*********************
Danilov had managed to set aside an old warehouse near the Barrikady factor for the sniper school. Well, 'school' was perhaps a rather fancy name for it, thought Nikolai, as he looked at the nervous faces before him, all volunteers from the 284th Rifle Division, and almost without exception they were very young indeed.
They were dotted about the warehouse, sitting where they could on crates and battered chairs, the only piece of decent furniture being an old table on which lay two rifles. As he entered the warehouse the thirty-two young soldiers stood, saluting as smartly as they could, eyes wide as they studied the big man standing confidently before them, rifle slung nonchalantly over his shoulder.
Babes. They're sending me bloody babes in arms!
Half of them didn't look old enough to shave he reckoned, and he noticed there were also half-a-dozen women amongst them, eyes wary and hooded. Old eyes, he thought. These youngsters had seen more than they should at their age. They shouldn't be looking at bloated corpses and terrible destruction. They should be at school, or tumbling sturdy sun-browned lasses and lads in a hay-stack somewhere, not learning how to cold-bloodedly kill another human being. He sighed. But then, that's what I did at their age, he thought, and momentarily grieved for his lost youth.
He took a deep breath and straightened. Better get on with it. Looking around at the expectant faces he spoke.
"My name is Lieutenant Colonel Nikolai Koulikov, and it's going to be my job to teach you young buggers how to kill Germans and stay alive in the process. For the next few days, I'm going to teach you how to hunt. But you'll not be hunting rabbits, or deer, or whatever else it was you used to hunt when you were kiddies in daipers carrying a little pop-gun back on the farm. No, my little cubs, this time your prey can shoot back and blow your pretty, unmarked little heads off … and I'm going to try my damndest to train you well enough so that doesn't happen. Any questions?"
He waited expectantly.
There was a quiet flurry of whispering, and he was on the point of continuing when a tall, gangly lad of about eighteen stepped forward, the boy saluting smartly.
"Comrade Colonel sir …" The words tailed away shyly.
Nikolai raised an eyebrow.
"What is it, soldier?"
The lad swallowed, throat suddenly dry, but he plucked up more courage from somewhere and continued.
"Comrade Colonel … are … are you the one they call 'The Bear'?"
Nikolai had to duck his head so the group of soldiers didn't see the grin threatening to break out on his mobile face. That bloody nickname followed him wherever he went … He got himself under control and fixed steely blue eyes on the lad.
"What's your name, boy?"
The young soldier swallowed again, this time in ill-concealed fear.
"Vasilchenko, sir. Fyodor Ivanovich. From Estonia."
Nikolai treated the lad to a wide, toothy grin, the steel teeth glinting in the shafts of sunlight coming through the ruined roof. There were blinks of shock from the group. That's right … take a good look, my little cubs. Get on the wrong side of the wrong people and that's what can happen to you.
"Well, Fyodor Ivanovich Vasilchenko from Estonia, I am indeed 'the one they call The Bear', and if you lot don't pay attention you're not going to live long enough to find out how nasty I can be when I'm upset - so, get your arses into gear and gather round."
Obediently the group of soldiers came forward while Nikolai took off his pilotka and propped his rifle against the wall. He turned back to the table and lifted one of the rifles and tossed it nonchalantly to the startled Vasilchenko.
"D'you know what that is?" he said, frowning at the young soldier.
Vasilchenko looked blankly at the rifle in his hand. Instinctively he knew it wasn't the usual Red Army issue, but looking at it more closely, he recognised it. He smiled in relief.
"It's … it's a Mauser!" he said triumphantly.
Nikolai grinned wolfishly.
"Well done, boy! A Mauser Kar 98k. Bloody useless weapon, and the Fritzes use it. It's balance is shit, the scope's crap, it jams and it's just about worthless in cold weather. But it has one advantage, and that advantage will blow your heads off if you don't pay attention." He leaned over the table and took the rifle from Vasilchenko and worked the bolt. " See … here. The bolt is situated right over the trigger, and it's fast reloading. A Nazi sniper can fire two shots in four-and-a-half seconds with this piece of shit. Now …" Nikolai dropped the rifle on the table and lifted the second weapon. "This, my little cubs, is a proper rifle. You've all used one, but maybe not as well-machined as this one. This is the Moisin-Nagant 91/30 sniper rifle with a four-power Zeiss scope. It's reliable, even in the cold, and you can wear your gloves while you shoot, so your poor, tender little fingers won't freeze as the trigger guard's a bit bigger than normal. It too, has a flaw, and this is where those bloody Fritzes have an advantage." Once more he worked the bolt. "This, children, is the problem - the bolt is too far forward for easy reloading, and it takes your average Russian sniper five-and-a-half seconds to reload."
He waited a moment as he let the young soldiers think about the time difference. His grin widened as he saw the youngsters pale.
"Yes, my cubs … if you don't shoot Fritz in the noggin with your first shot, he's going to blow your bloody arse off because he can reload a second faster than you can. So, learn to kill the bastard with your first shot. Do you understand me? Because if you don't you'll be dead, and I won't give a damn because I'll be too busy training others who do have a few working brain cells in their heads. All right?" He saw pairs of wide eyes blink in understanding. "Good. So, let's get to work. For today, I'm going to tell you about fieldcraft and tactics …"
As the soldiers gathered around the big sniper, Nikolai began to relax, his nervousness disappearing as he warmed to his subject, and the soldiers he taught listened eagerly to this legendary sniper whom they had only known as 'The Bear'.
Igor Semyonovich Danilov stood in the doorway and listened, smiling to himself. As Nikolai's acerbic comments and good-humoured insults relaxed his pupils, Igor knew he had done the right thing. Lieutenant Colonel Nikolai Koulikov was a natural teacher, and a thought popped into his mind. Rivka had mentioned what a propaganda coup it would be to have Nikolai teach his skills to young snipers, and he pulled out his notebook, flicking to a new page. Licking the tip of his pencil he began to write.
********************
Nikolai Koulikov was pleasantly tired as he finished his very first day as a
teacher. He grinned to himself as he left the young soldiers to disperse, watching
as they talked eagerly about what they had learned from him. Tomorrow was going
to be interesting, he decided, for that was the day his 'cubs' would learn to
use the Moisin-Nagant with a scope. Then he would discover their weaknesses
and strengths, and on the following day he would take them out into the rubble
and filth of the city and show them how to work in the confines of the bombed-out
buildings. He just hoped they learned quickly, because after they left his care
they were on their own, sent to the front where they would live or die using
the skills he had taught them.
Setting his pilotka on his short curls and lifting his rifle, he set off out of the building … and was surprised to see Rivka waiting for him, sitting on a pile of sandbags.
"What in God's name are you doing woman? You walked all this way?" Nikolai's voice was gruff. "Now then Rivka, you know you're not supposed to be doing anything strenuous - "
Rivka stood up and put her hand over his mouth, stopping his words.
"Hist, Nikolai, my love." She kissed him gently, earning a few grins from Nikolai's pupils as they exited the building. "The walk has done me good, and it's such a beautiful evening! I just needed to get some fresh air, that's all, and …" she smiled. "I couldn't wait any longer. I wanted to see you."
Nikolai studied her carefully. Her eyes were clear and warm, and her skin glowed from exposure to the sun and fresh air. She didn't seem in the least tired, and he had to admit she looked beautiful. Her hair was tied back under her head-scarf, and her lean face was alive with pleasure at seeing him, and for the umpteenth time since he had met Rivka Velonina, Nikolai Koulikov told himself he was a very lucky man.
"Hmm. Well, I suppose it's all right. But I'd be happier if you behaved yourself and stayed closer to home. Women aren't safe on the streets on their own, Rivka, and I worry."
Rivka tilted her chin, amused.
"Rubbish! There are female soldiers everywhere in the city, and they aren't touched! So you needn't bother trying that ploy! It won't work. Besides, I enjoyed the walk. It's good to see the city beginning to pick itself up again and coming alive, Niko!"
She looked around at the death and destruction still scarring the great buildings of this once-beautiful city, and smiled. Here and there a splash of colour began to show from washing hung on makeshift lines, as what was left of the civilian population reasserted itself and began to live again instead of skulking in cellars and holes. This morning she had seen her first butterfly in a year, and she had seen a daisy bloom in the cracked wall of a bombed-out building. She took a deep breath. The air smelt clean at last, the contagion of war beaten back at least, if not vanquished.
Nikolai had to smile at the blissful expression on her face.
"Rivka Velonina, what am I going to do with you?" He snorted in amusement. "Having babies must suit you, woman - I've never seen you so content!"
Rivka's eyebrows arched.
"You think so, my Niko? Well, in that case I'd better plan to have lots more babies, because I've never felt so … so … alive!"
Nikolai nearly choked.
"Bloody hell, Rivka! Do you want to kill me? The strain of having this one is difficult enough! I never knew being an expectant father was so hard on the nerves, I can tell you!"
Rivka chuckled, seeing the pleasure in his blue gaze.
"Nikolai Koulikov, you are a tease! … I think it's about time you took me home, don't you? And then you can tell me all about your day." She linked her arm in his as they headed down the road towards the river. "So … what are they like? Are they going to understand what you're trying to teach them? Are they nice? Where are they from …"
She didn't stop talking until they got home.
*********************
Nikolai stretched tiredly. It was late and it had been a long day, although he was pleased with the way it had gone, and he was surprised how much he had enjoyed working with the eager young soldiers. They had been keen and asked many questions, and he had done his best to answer them clearly and accurately.
Yawning, he slumped in his big chair and watched Rivka, who was getting ready for bed. She knelt on their big bed looking at her reflection in the mirror, once more dressed in her old nightgown, brushing her thick black hair as it tumbled over her shoulders.
Deciding it was time he joined her, he heaved himself out of his chair, slipped down his suspenders and shrugged out of his shirt and undershirt. The warm May weather allowed him to sleep in just his old army shorts, and he enjoyed feeling Rivka nestle down beside him at night, her body draped on his, her hand stroking his skin as she slept. He sat on the bed and hauled off his boots, then he eased out of his pants and socks, wriggling his toes with pleasure.
He was about to slide in between the sheets when he caught sight of Rivka's face in the mirror. She was obviously deep in thought as she brushed her hair, and Nikolai couldn't resist kneeling behind her, easing the brush from her hand. He began to brush the soft waves of her hair as it fell at the nape of her neck, and Rivka made a small sound of contentment.
"Mmm … nice …"
She leaned back
a little, and Nikolai stopped brushing and allowed her to snuggle back into
his broad chest, enjoying the feel of her resting against him. Pushing the hair
away from the hollow of her neck, he bent down and kissed the soft skin there.
Lifting his head, he saw Rivka watching him in the mirror. He saw unshed tears
glisten in her dark eyes, and he frowned, concerned.
"What is it? What's wrong - "
Rivka gave him a gentle smile, and settled deeper against him.
"Oh … just thinking."
Nikolai kissed the top of her head.
"What about?" His blue eyes studied her.
"You."
"Me? What about me?" Nikolai put the brush on the bedside table and wrapped his arms around her, seeing Rivka relax into his care, her head cradled on his shoulder, one of her hands resting on her swollen stomach.
Rivka sighed.
"I almost lost you, my Niko. We almost lost you. You were so ill …" She turned her head and kissed his shoulder where the shrapnel scars showed white, and he felt her sigh. "But you came back to us, love, and I never want to lose you again …"
Nikolai nuzzled the nape of her neck, mouth soft with longing, then he spoke, his voice muffled against the smoothness of her skin.
"You brought me back Rivka … you loved me and made me live, and I will love you forever, my lady … without you I … I think I would probably die." He looked up to see the expression on her face change. Her eyes were luminous with love for him, and her lips were lush and ripe … God, how he wanted her!
He felt her catch hold of his hand and lead it to the top button of her nightgown, and his breath hitched. She turned her head and gazed up at him.
"Touch me, Niko … please, I need to feel you touch me …"
And she sighed as Nikolai, mesmerised, began to unbutton her nightgown. He watched himself in the mirror, awed, as her body was slowly revealed to him, once more astonished at the shiver of desire that ran through him as the material fell away from her body to reveal her full breasts. They were magnificent, her nipples rising at the brush of his fingers. He worked downwards, button by button, and her body was finally bared to him as she sat on her haunches, cradled tenderly by his broad, brawny frame behind her. He eased the gown from her shoulders and she sighed, feeling his long fingers stroke her breast.
"Love me, Niko … please …" Her voice was full of desperate desire.
Nikolai lifted his head once more and gazed at her, uncertainty in his eyes. He wanted her badly, the ache of his erection pressed against her back evident now, but he was unsure. They had not fully made love since his illness, primarily because he had taken so long to recover, but also because of his concern about her pregnancy. Despite Oleg's reassurance that it was perfectly all right to do so, Nikolai still worried, so they had loved each other with hands and mouth - although, he remembered ruefully, the first time had sent him into a coughing fit that had Rivka on the point of rushing out and fetching Oleg. But things had improved, and he delighted in her response to his touch, and he shuddered at the memory of her mouth on him, driving him towards ecstasy.
Rivka saw him hesitate and moved his hand gently to her breast, smiling as he cupped its full ripeness.
"It's all right, love … I'm fine … please, I need you inside me this time …"
Nikolai saw the need in her dark gaze … and could not deny her any longer. Pulling back a little he slipped the gown from her body, tossed it aside and gathered her into his arms, loving the feel of her bare back against his chest. He felt her hands slide back and stroke his hips and he shifted slightly, allowing her hands to slide downwards, slipping past the waistband of his shorts, her gentle fingers stroking the hollow of his flanks. He gasped as she found him, his knees parting a little to give her access, and the coolness of her touch on his maleness made him groan. Her thumb smoothed the drops of fluid on the tip into the sensitive crown and he thrust gently.
Nipping softly at her shoulder he folded her into his grasp, one hand kneading her breast, stroking and fondling the nipple, and the other stroked downward, lingering on the rise of her belly for a moment in love for the child, then it moved lower, cupping the soft curls at her groin. A finger insinuated between swollen nether lips and touched the place that sent her arching into his hand, moaning softly.
For long moments they stroked and kissed and touched, hands and mouths arousing and teasing heated skin and sensitive flesh. But soon Rivka wanted more. Easing herself up onto her knees she leaned forward, one hand braced on the brass foot-rail of the bed, her pert, soft bottom dashing any hopes Nikolai had of maintaining his self-control. The sweep of her back was golden and smooth, and only the thickening at her waist gave any indication of her pregnancy. She looked sideways into the mirror and smiled hazily.
Nikolai was enchanted. Her black hair fell in waves over her shoulders, and before he knew it he was slipping out of his shorts and positioning himself behind her, his arousal throbbing with need for his beloved Rivka. Grasping her hips he mounted her, easing his penis into her soft, snug channel.
Rivka sighed as she felt the push of him. It had been a while since they had loved so intimately and she was tight with desire, but she revelled in the feel of him stretching her, his shaft sliding gently into her snug depths. His breath hissed between clenched teeth as he tried to control his thrust, and Rivka marvelled at Nikolai's tenderness.
She felt his right hand press against her hipbone, kneading gently, and she was sure she could feel the pulse of his blood as he held her, fingers softly massaging the smoothness of her skin. But his left hand … God, what his left hand was doing to her! Nikolai was lost in sensation as he began to thrust, but Rivka was acutely aware of his hand stroking her back, her belly, her breast … teasing, caressing, as his hips moved in long, slow strokes, his loving touch bringing a cry of delight from her throat.
This was a new Nikolai she realised, as he used his body to worship hers fully, and his attentions made her begin to moan incoherently. His lovemaking had always been strong and passionate and this time was no different in that respect. But his innate tenderness was now to the fore, his sweet touch gentle and giving, his thrusts strong but careful, the big man unwilling to risk endangering her or the child within her. Even deep in passion he cared … and Rivka sobbed with the beauty of it.
Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed their reflection in her old, battered mirror and a sudden gasp escaped her. Their loving was so erotic it made her take a gulping breath as Nikolai kneeled tightly behind her, long thighs outside hers, holding the curves of her silken bottom against his heaving flanks.
She watched, entranced, as Nikolai rocked her body with his, and she saw the play of still-lean muscles and the glisten of his rigid manhood as he moved rhythmically in and out of her. But it was his face that enthralled her. Eyes closed and lost in pleasure, Nikolai gasped her name with every thrust, whispering how much he loved her, and as she watched he shifted his angle of penetration slightly to hit the spot within her that sent Rivka surging back into him for more.
"Oh Niko … my wonderful Niko … ahh … ahh …"
Nikolai heard her cry of joy and opened his eyes, watching the movement of her body beneath his. Groaning louder now with each shuddering thrust he looked down to where they were joined, seeing himself penetrate again and again this woman he adored more than anything or anyone in the world, feeling his penis throb and thicken now as he felt her sheath begin to flutter, clutching at his length even as he immersed himself in her again and again …
A memory came to him of a smooth, strong back with dark hair the blue-black of a raven's wing brushing sleek shoulders, and looking in the mirror he saw Rivka prone before his striving body, pierced by his maleness, rapt with the pleasure of his thrusts. She was his woman, mother to his child, her breath coming in short, shallow pants of need. Moments before she convulsed around him he saw her watch him out of wide eyes … eyes the colour of velvet-dark sloes on a sunny autumn day …
With a wordless cry Rivka's climax was upon her and Nikolai growled at the feeling of her body clenching around his shaft, glory surging through him. But still he held back, reluctant to plunge into her too deeply, but the soft, muscular channel drove him on, teasing the blunt, engorged crown and his testes readied themselves. His eyes darkened …his hands tightened at her hipbones and he felt the blood roaring through his veins … then a deep, wrenching groan was torn from him, equalling the force of his orgasm as the last almost uncontrolled thrusts left him poised over Rivka's shuddering body. It burst through him as though his blood was on fire, and his milky seed spurted deep, deep within his beloved Rivka … his treasure … his life.
For long moments they were stilled, in harmony in the wonder of their love, and their hearts sang with the pleasure of their joining. But soon their breathing evened and Nikolai withdrew carefully, hearing Rivka sigh at the loss of contact. Catching her in his arms he carefully brought her down beside him on the bed, their naked bodies spooned together in pleasurable exhaustion.
Rivka turned in his arms and pushed him onto his back, dropping kisses on his tired face, and resting propped on one arm she studied him as he lay sprawled in sated abandon on the rumpled bed. Her eyes took in the long limbed, broad-shouldered frame of her man, a smile crinkling her face as she saw how content he was. He looked up at her, a smile of puzzled amusement on his lips.
"What?"
Rivka grinned.
"Just looking at you. I can never get my fill, Niko, you know that. I still can't believe you're home for good." She traced a finger down his side. "Hmmm. Still too thin, love. I wish you would fill out a bit more … you look … well, unfinished." Her finger trailed down to his hip and brushed his groin. His softened member twitched at her touch. Her eyebrow raised. "Again?"
Nikolai snorted.
"I wish! He's just remembering how good it feels to be inside you!" His face softened. "It was all right, Rivka? I mean, to … to make love to you? You're feeling all right?"
She nodded, reassuring him.
"I feel … wonderful!" Leaning forward, she kissed him deeply, feeling his long arms wrap around her.
Nikolai broke off, his body stirring at the touch of her warm breasts brushing his chest.
"Rivka … I think if you give me a little while … maybe …"
Rivka's eye sparkled as she bent once more to cover his lips with hers, and, true to his word, in a little while Nikolai Koulikov used his hands and body to bring his dear Rivka much, much pleasure indeed.
******************
The days began to evolve into a routine. Nikolai trained a steady stream of young soldiers to sit for hours under a piece of tin or in pouring rain, not moving, ever patient, until they could fire the one shot that counted and meant one less German to fight against the Motherland.
Rivka became serene in her advancing pregnancy, and Nikolai was surprised to find how calm she was, her body carrying the child easily and well, even as her belly swelled more as she reached the seventh month. Her only frustration was her increasing inability to do her housework, and she discovered she needed to rest more and more, Nikolai relieved she was taking it easy at last. She continued for a while to meet Nikolai at the disused warehouse and walking home with him, and it was on a fine June evening that they passed Red Army headquarters and Nikolai stopped dead in the middle of the ruined street.
"Hell's teeth! Will you look at that! Where the bloody hell did that come from??"
On the wall was a poster. It was a typical propaganda poster, but the subject was strangely familiar, especially as there was a notice plastered next to it about 'The Noble Sniper Comrade Nikolai Koulikov teaches soldiers of the Motherland how to kill the fascist foe!"
Rivka covered her mouth to stop the giggle as Nikolai stood reading the notice, his eyes straying to the poster as he mouthed the words.
"Comrade Koulikov teaches volunteers how to shoot with breathtaking accuracy and with fearless dedication. He has killed nearly two hundred of the enemy, and holds the highest honour our Motherland can award … Hero of the Soviet Union, as well as being designated a Noble Sniper, and also has been awarded many medals including the Defence of Stalingrad." Nikolai's voice dropped to a growl. "I'll kill that young bugger Danilov with my bare hands, I swear to God! What the hell does he think he's doing?? I mean, this bloody poster … look at it! It looks nothing like me, dammit!" He turned to Rivka, intending to elicit her support in the act of taking Igor Semyonovich Danilov down a peg or two, but stopped as he saw the merriment in her eyes. " What the hell are you laughing at, woman?"
Rivka chuckled.
"Oh, Niko, I'm sorry! I think this is all my fault!"
Nikolai was now very confused.
"Your fault?? What d'you mean your fault? Out with it, Rivka!"
"Well … I just happened to mention to Igor that if you were allowed to teach at the sniping school it might be an opportunity to get some propaganda out of it. I only said it so he'd give you a chance, but he seems to have taken it to heart. You're not angry, are you??" She gave him her best winsome smile.
Nikolai blinked. It was Rivka's idea?? Well, for goodness sake, what was he going to do with her? She was a menace sometimes, he had to admit. But, he thought, it's done now. No point getting upset at her. Shaking his head, he took her arm and linked it with his.
"Come on, you meddling creature! Home with you! Propaganda indeed! I never thought I'd see the day when Nikolai Koulikov sang the praises of the communist ideal …"
Still muttering darkly, Nikolai took his Rivka home and made her promise never to do anything like that again. Rivka smiled sweetly, kissed him on the end of his nose, and made him some supper. But she did have to admit the poster didn't look very much like him …
******************
A week later, Rivka fainted.
A panic-stricken Nikolai called in Oleg, who told her that she was doing too much and her blood-pressure had dropped a little, so Nikolai finally put his foot down and forbade Rivka from walking to the warehouse to meet him. She was to rest, take gentle exercise and eat properly, and he wanted to hear no complaints on the matter. Rivka agreed reluctantly, but inwardly she realised that until the baby was born she would be glad to take it easy.
So, their lives slowed down to quiet evenings listening to music or Rivka reading to him in bed, and Nikolai was happy to do what he could to make life easier for her. His days were not too difficult, and as he relaxed into the routine of teaching he began to enjoy himself.
Rivka became used to him coming home at a regular time, but occasionally he would be detained at headquarters for assessments and reports, and it was on one of those evenings that she heard a sharp rap on the old, battered door of the cellar.
She frowned. Nikolai must be early, she decided. But why didn't he just come straight in? Then she thought he must have brought her something from his forays rummaging in the ruins, as he still did once in a while, and smiling she lifted the heavy latch and opened the ancient door.
For a moment, her heart missed a beat … then she gasped with shock.
"Hello, Rivka? Missed me?"
There, standing before her in a battered suit and with a sly smile on his face, was Gavri Velonin. Her husband.