It was far too early in the morning when she had to depart to the station, where a truck would pick her up. The night before the local supply officer gave her some trouble. Apparently her casual, non-regulation uniform was a problem. While she could bring it to the base where she would be inducted into Squad 914, she needed a dress uniform, and she needed to be in it when she arrived. According to the supply officer. Vera didn't see the importance in any of it, she hardly even felt like part of the military. Just three nights ago an intimidating Commissar showed up at her doorstep, told her raise her right hand, swear her loyalty to the Soviet Union and viola she was now part of the armed forces. She didn't even know her own rank! When she went to the supply depot the officer there gave her the standard issue dress for women, a very tan, unflattering coat and skirt. She asked for pants instead of the skirt.

	So there she was, sitting in a truck with about five or so others. Her uniform was brand new, stiff and difficult to move in. While the others chatted about what they did, who they were, Vera closed her eyes and sank as deep as she could into the uncomfortable wooden seat. Doing her best to become one with the seat, though she felt like the only reason why the others weren't talking to her was because it seemed like she was sleeping, not because she was hidden from them. Much later she felt herself slipping into sleep when she noticed the truck halt. Not long after someone tapped her on the shoulder, [color=yellow][b]"Seems like we're here, tovarisch."[/b][/color] Vera nodded, slowly got up and followed the others out. She found herself in a mostly empty vehicle depot. Officers and other military personnel directed them towards the center near a small podium. Vera looked back at the trucks that brought them here, if she recalled correctly... ZiS-150 trucks? A newer model of truck, the supposed successor to the ZiS-5, a much older, but very sturdy and reliable model. [color=8B84D8][i][b]They only started production of these trucks just last year[/b][/i][/color], she thought to herself. She looked back forward, where roughly 30 or so people, mostly russian, were standing. She quickened her pace to keep up, leaving the trucks and her thought about them behind, standing behind one of the people near the rear.

	A large, older officer went up to the podium, flanked by a number of military personnel to his left. He cleared his throat, which made Vera look up at him. He began a fairly informal greeting, introducing himself as their commanding officer, pointing out a few people as veterans and such. Vera perked up when she heard that there were veteran troops in this unit, making a mental note that she should stick close to them when the shooting started. The CO then gave them instructions that the personnel to his left carried documents for them. [color=8B84D8][i][b]What sort of documents?[/b][/i][/color] Vera thought to herself, and as quick as he arrived, the CO left after telling them to meet him at 9:00AM, an hour from now. Though she didn't catch where. She went up to one of the men carrying the documents and picked out hers. 

	She looked around and saw that most people had already begun to form into small groups, chatting amongst themselves or flipping through the pages of their personal documents. She even heard someone mutter that he had been trained as a rifleman, not as whatever they had assigned him to be. The small Russian girl noticed that most people had uniforms broken in, with rank insignia, some medals or badges, patches which displayed their former units. Her own uniform had no such things. She felt vulnerable in this crowd of strangers, clothes too stiff, without her armor. So she walked towards those trucks to get a better look at them while she opened her document. She only took a few steps before tripping on herself and dropping her documents. She stopped mid recovery and saw the papers splayed out on the floor. She blinked before quickly gathering her papers, adjusting her coat, and continuing her path towards the trucks. She was glad that she was walking away from the group after that incident.