Sliding on the Snow Stone by Andy Szpuk Page A

blackberries did we? We pulled on our boots and threw on our jackets while Mother packed up our bag of provisions.
    ‘ Be careful boys. Get back for some dinner won’t you?’
    ‘ Of course, Mama.’
    She gave us both a peck on the cheek, handed us our bag of supplies, and we hurried out of the door. We ran down the road away from the house until we were almost out of sight. The early morning gloom swallowed us up, we could just about see where we were going. There was a chill in the air.
    ‘ You shouldn’t lie to Mother.’ I scolded Volodimir.
    ‘ I wasn’t. There are blackberries out in the woods. We’ll find some, trust me.’
    I wasn’t convinced, but soon forgot about it as we crunched through the autumn leaves to the edge of the village. Although the darkness still hung heavy over us, a golden shimmer lingered on the horizon. The sun was coming up. We weren’t all that far out of the village when we saw some deep tyre tracks in the mud. We looked at them closely in the half-light. They were from big trucks. It showed the Soviets meant business. We looked at each other. Neither of us said anything but perhaps our thoughts were the same. The Soviets had put together an army big enough to fight a full scale battle, but would they come looking for more soldiers once they’d lost some?
    We clambered up a bank and walked across some fields using whatever cover we could to shield ourselves from the road. In some places the grass was long, in others there were shrubs and bushes for us to weave in and out of. We ducked in and out of the trees and tried to make ourselves invisible as best we could. On and on we walked. There were a few signs of life stirring around us. The birds sang to us, and the autumn sun finally came up and threw piercing orange rays through the trees. Otherwise, there was little sign of life. There was no sign of any Soviet trucks either.
    A mile or two further on, we still hadn’t seen anything and we were about ready for some food. My stomach was making noises.
    ‘ Can we stop and have the bread and milk now?’ I asked Volodimir.
    ‘ Yes, let’s just get across to those trees over there and we can sit down.’
    Fifty or so metres further on we reached those trees and walked through them with the sunlight flickering through from further beyond. It was slightly damp around us but we managed to find a small clearing with some good sized rocks to sit on. It was a sunny spot and quite dry. We threw ourselves down onto them and Volodimir started to unpack our breakfast. Just then I spotted something nearby. It was a movement in the trees next to us. I froze. Was it a small animal? Maybe a rabbit? Or a fox?
    ‘ Volodimir,’ I hissed, ‘what was that?’ He turned his head to listen closer.
    There was a rustling sound and it was getting stronger. We stood up and watched as two figures emerged from the trees right in front of us.
    ‘ Don’t move! Stay right where you are and put your hands up!’ Volodimir dropped the bag and we slowly raised our hands above our heads.
    It couldn’t have been any worse for us. The pair inching closer to us were Soviet soldiers, one of them holding up a rifle and pointing it at each of us in turn. We kept very still. They walked towards us not saying anything and I couldn’t believe what was in front of me. They were just boys! They weren’t much older than us. Their uniforms were too big for them and their helmets looked like giant mushrooms. Their belts hung limp around their waists. They looked more like clowns than soldiers. I stopped myself from smiling.
    ‘ What’s in the bag?’ yelped the smaller one, the one without the rifle. He spoke in Russian which we understood.
    ‘ J – Just some bread and milk,’ replied Volodimir. The bag was snatched up and the smaller one pulled out one of the pieces of bread and tore into it, shoving it down like he hadn’t eaten for days. Then he took some swigs of the milk. They swapped over. The smaller one kept