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Barbarossanova
- Thread starter bobinder
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Thank you for looking out for me
That's our Barb - she can be like velvet, but always that, er, barb underneath.Don't think this entitles you to special treatment.
BARBAROSSANOVA
Episode 2, 0100 25 November 1942, west of Moscow, near Rzhev
It was just past midnight when I was relieved of watch duty. Weapons being in short supply in the penal battalions, I handed my rifle to my relief and scurried back to one of the dugouts, flapping my arms to restore circulation. It was a cloudless and bitterly cold night. On entering the crowded dugout, I managed to force myself in between two comrades for warmth.
Bottles of vodka were being passed around. Everyone in the dugout was drinking heavily. As always, before a penal battalion is ordered to make a suicidal advance, the troops were liquored up. Happy soldiers know no fear. I grabbed a bottle as it was passed my way and took a gulp, gasping at the intense burning sensation in my throat and chest. Several quaffs later, I settled back, leaning against a drunken comrade and allowed my mind to drift back again to the day of my abduction in Prague.
*****
The chloroformed cloth over my face had put me out, and I don't know exactly for how long, but when I came to and opened my eyes, I saw Vassily looking down at me with his strangely cold, grey-blue eyes. I struggled to straighten up from my slumped position, tugging again at my skirt which had ridden up and was bunched around my hips.
I quickly became aware of the fact that the car was moving ... and at considerable speed! The familiar statuary lining the Charles Bridge literally flashed past the window!
"Where are you taking me?" I murmured in English, slurring my words.
"To Moscow ... where you belong," he replied in Russian.
I looked out the window again. We had crossed the river and swiftly cleared the Old Town. The Skoda continued eastward, negotiating the outlying districts of the city at speed.
As the machine rounded a curve on two wheels, I was thrown against Vassily's body.
"Are we being pursued?" I cried, grasping at the collar of his trench coat for support as the driver gunned the engine on the straight away.
"Only by the local Gendarmerie," he replied nonchalantly as he applied another chloroformed cloth to my face.
When I came around again I was being bundled into the back of a small plane. The roar of its engine was deafening. The entire fuselage vibrated with eagerness to be airborne.
My wrists were bound behind my back and my ankles were bound together. There were no seats. I was simply tossed on the floor.
Vassily crawled into the jump seat behind the pilot and gave him a poke in the shoulder. Then, he bent over me and applied the chloroform cloth again. I mumbled something incoherent and heard the roar of the straining engine in my ears and felt the lurch of the plane as it left the ground.
As I passed out, I knew we were airborne, winging our way to something unknown and beyond imagination .... but most certainly not something good.
My next recollection was of waking up sprawled face down on the hard and cold concrete floor of a cell. Groggily, I stretched, rolled over. Realizing that my wrists and feet were no longer bound, I sat up and began to rub them. I sensed movement behind me. I turned to find I was not alone. My cell was occupied by two other women.
"Where am I?" I asked in Russian.
"Welcome to the Lubyanka," grunted one of the other cellmates, edging closer to me. She was short. Her hair was tangled and dirty. She was wearing only a blue-gray shift. Her face was dirty and bruised ... not a pretty sight!
I looked down at my own attire. My coat, skirt, blouse, underthings, hose and shoes were gone. I was wearing the same blue-gray shift that my cell mates wore.
"You must be an important one," she sniffed, raising an eyebrow and squinting at me as though I had come from another planet. "We heard you are an American."
"I am," I said uncertainly.
"But you speak Russian?"
"Yes, my parents ... well ... never mind."
"They will come for you soon now," interjected the other woman, who was roughly my size and even looked a little like me. "They will question you down in one of the interrogation rooms. It won't be a pleasant experience, I can guarantee you that!"
"Oh, how can you be so sure? They know me. I worked for them. I have nothing to hide."
"Well you'd better hope not my dear. We understand that Vassily will be conducting your interrogation. Do you know what they call him?"
"No," I said.
"They call him 'the Dentist'."
"Why?"
"Let's hope you don't have to find out. Hush now ... they are coming for you!"
Episode 2, 0100 25 November 1942, west of Moscow, near Rzhev
It was just past midnight when I was relieved of watch duty. Weapons being in short supply in the penal battalions, I handed my rifle to my relief and scurried back to one of the dugouts, flapping my arms to restore circulation. It was a cloudless and bitterly cold night. On entering the crowded dugout, I managed to force myself in between two comrades for warmth.
Bottles of vodka were being passed around. Everyone in the dugout was drinking heavily. As always, before a penal battalion is ordered to make a suicidal advance, the troops were liquored up. Happy soldiers know no fear. I grabbed a bottle as it was passed my way and took a gulp, gasping at the intense burning sensation in my throat and chest. Several quaffs later, I settled back, leaning against a drunken comrade and allowed my mind to drift back again to the day of my abduction in Prague.
*****
The chloroformed cloth over my face had put me out, and I don't know exactly for how long, but when I came to and opened my eyes, I saw Vassily looking down at me with his strangely cold, grey-blue eyes. I struggled to straighten up from my slumped position, tugging again at my skirt which had ridden up and was bunched around my hips.
I quickly became aware of the fact that the car was moving ... and at considerable speed! The familiar statuary lining the Charles Bridge literally flashed past the window!
"Where are you taking me?" I murmured in English, slurring my words.
"To Moscow ... where you belong," he replied in Russian.
I looked out the window again. We had crossed the river and swiftly cleared the Old Town. The Skoda continued eastward, negotiating the outlying districts of the city at speed.
As the machine rounded a curve on two wheels, I was thrown against Vassily's body.
"Are we being pursued?" I cried, grasping at the collar of his trench coat for support as the driver gunned the engine on the straight away.
"Only by the local Gendarmerie," he replied nonchalantly as he applied another chloroformed cloth to my face.
When I came around again I was being bundled into the back of a small plane. The roar of its engine was deafening. The entire fuselage vibrated with eagerness to be airborne.
My wrists were bound behind my back and my ankles were bound together. There were no seats. I was simply tossed on the floor.
Vassily crawled into the jump seat behind the pilot and gave him a poke in the shoulder. Then, he bent over me and applied the chloroform cloth again. I mumbled something incoherent and heard the roar of the straining engine in my ears and felt the lurch of the plane as it left the ground.
As I passed out, I knew we were airborne, winging our way to something unknown and beyond imagination .... but most certainly not something good.
My next recollection was of waking up sprawled face down on the hard and cold concrete floor of a cell. Groggily, I stretched, rolled over. Realizing that my wrists and feet were no longer bound, I sat up and began to rub them. I sensed movement behind me. I turned to find I was not alone. My cell was occupied by two other women.
"Where am I?" I asked in Russian.
"Welcome to the Lubyanka," grunted one of the other cellmates, edging closer to me. She was short. Her hair was tangled and dirty. She was wearing only a blue-gray shift. Her face was dirty and bruised ... not a pretty sight!
I looked down at my own attire. My coat, skirt, blouse, underthings, hose and shoes were gone. I was wearing the same blue-gray shift that my cell mates wore.
"You must be an important one," she sniffed, raising an eyebrow and squinting at me as though I had come from another planet. "We heard you are an American."
"I am," I said uncertainly.
"But you speak Russian?"
"Yes, my parents ... well ... never mind."
"They will come for you soon now," interjected the other woman, who was roughly my size and even looked a little like me. "They will question you down in one of the interrogation rooms. It won't be a pleasant experience, I can guarantee you that!"
"Oh, how can you be so sure? They know me. I worked for them. I have nothing to hide."
"Well you'd better hope not my dear. We understand that Vassily will be conducting your interrogation. Do you know what they call him?"
"No," I said.
"They call him 'the Dentist'."
"Why?"
"Let's hope you don't have to find out. Hush now ... they are coming for you!"
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windar
Teller of Tales
You're getting free dental care, Moore, but doubtless you'll find something to complain about.
xso
Tribune
Well done, great episode! Free dental care (naked?), dosen't sound to bad! Maybe Vassily is also a good gynecologist?
[/QUOTE]
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Let us hope Vassily has more adapt tools than Tree
You're getting free dental care, Moore, but doubtless you'll find something to complain about.
[/QUOTE]
Damn ... and me without any dental insurance!
Let us hope Vassily has more adapt tools than Tree
Dentists don't work with hammer and nails ... at least as far as I know.
We can only hope not!!!Dentists don't work with hammer and nails ... at least as far as I know.
We've been here before:
http://www.cruxforums.com/xf/thread...d-punishment-centre-for-girls.1515/post-35035
(and Tree said then 'You're meaner than me Eul - but I'm taking notes'
(Another visit to the dentist later in IPCG:
http://www.cruxforums.com/xf/thread...d-punishment-centre-for-girls.1515/post-35035)
http://www.cruxforums.com/xf/thread...d-punishment-centre-for-girls.1515/post-35035
(and Tree said then 'You're meaner than me Eul - but I'm taking notes'
(Another visit to the dentist later in IPCG:
http://www.cruxforums.com/xf/thread...d-punishment-centre-for-girls.1515/post-35035)
Damn ... everywhere I go ... Jollyrei seems to have gotten there first ... (upper left).
It could be your timing, Barb... I'm just guessing...
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Not yet noticed him around Rhzev? (the battle of Rhzev is remembered as 'the meat grinder').
Just drink some more wodka and don't think about it!
RacingRodent
Consul
Makes a change for Jollyrei to be the one hanging about.He seems to have gotten hung up on something again