Secondhand Time: The Last of the Soviets

by Svetlana Alexievich

One night, three of us were left behind as the rear guard. We cut open the belly of a dead horse, tossed everything out of it, and climbed in. We spent two days like that, listening to the Germans go back and forth. Shooting at them from time to time. Finally, the forest was completely silent. We climbed out covered in blood, guts, and shit…half-insane. It was night…We saw the moon… You should know that the birds helped us, too…When a magpie hears a stranger coming, it will always squawk. Give out a warning signal. They’d gotten used to us; the Germans smelled different: They wore cologne, washed with scented soap, smoked cigarettes; their overcoats were made of excellent military baize, their boots well polished. While we only had hand-rolled tobacco, our feet were wrapped in rags, our shoes made of woven cowhide and strapped to our feet with belts.