Night was falling eight hours after the charge, and Yuri and Dimitri were still lounging in the shot-up fountain. "When do you reckon we can move?", Yuri asked Dimitri who replied "Not now, there's too much light." Resisting the urge to peek over, Yuri kept lying down and silently chatting with Dimitri. It took another three long hours before it was actually pitch black, and Dimitri alerted Yuri who was dozing off. "Dude, it's time". 

"Fucking finally", Yuri said as he grabbed his weapon and slowly crawled over the edge of the fountain, immediately taking cover from the factory. He peered over the rubble to look at the side they came from. There was absolutely nothing in sight. "They must've fled to the buildings behind.", Yuri whispered as Dimitri climbed out and took the lead. "Try to find a Maxim. May come in handy if they attack." It was obvious they should bring some firepower along, but carrying a Maxim on a mount whilst having to stay low may turn out to be cumbersome. But the risk was worth it, because a rifle and a Shpagin didn't cut it. "Dimitri, where are we going with this?"

"We're going to that four-story building over there."

"Got it. I'll keep looking out for a machinegun." It wouldn't be too hard to find one. Just look for two dead guys lying next to eachother, there's bound to be a machinegun with them, right? Only one way to find out. Crawling through the rubble, Yuri kept his eyes peeled and then heard a swarm of flies. "Bingo", he thought as he crawled towards it. after crawling through all the bodies of his comrades, some of whom he recognised, he crawled to what he envisioned: A pair of comrades lying side to side with an M1910 between their bloody hands. The sight had Yuri gagging. Two young boys, not much older than him, mauled by enemy gunfire. Despite the darkness he could see their frozen facial expressions of agony; psychological strain and a horrible pain as he remove their stiff bodies from the MG, sending a swarm of flies buzzing off. He did this a second time, rolling the dead weight over and saying a prayer for these boys before dragging the machine gun off with a dirty feeling. He hadn't rolled crawled fifteen metres on before he threw up. The stench of death was everywhere, it hung inside his nose as a disgusting reminder of where he actually was. He was in Stalingrad, and behind every rock was death. He felt death lure over him, holding its scythe over him, ready to strike it into his soul at any moment. He rested for a few seconds until he pulled himself together and kept on crawling. Through the rubble. Through the corpses. Behind Dimitri. To the building.

By some miracle, they weren't spotted for the entirety of their trip and reached the building virtually unharmed. Dimitri stood in a corner of the lobby and took the Maxim from Yuri who advanced corner by corner with his Shpagin. They both nearly pissed themselves when a voice, roaring like a lion, shouted down "WHO GOES THERE?!" in Russian. Petrified, Yuri instinctively shouted. "Yuri Spiridonovich Ozerov and Dimitri Borisovich Snegiryov, soldiers of the Workers' and Peasants' Red Army! Do not shoot us, we are on your side!"

"I have no doubts you are", a towering figure in the doorframe said. "You two sound like adorable Petersburgers. You're hereby under my command. Come up, we've got better things to do than slack around. Do you have any heavy equipment?"

"Comrade, we have a Maxim machine gun!"

"Bring it on up. We'll install it and wait for the Krauts. We can take turns sleeping."