Late February evening, almost nothing is visible. To the sound of art, we quickly unloaded from the M113 and moved into position. The task is to change the fighters and hold out until the morning. Now the fate of our sister cities leaving Avdeevka also depends on us. We feel that we will complete the task no matter what.
Our trench runs along the planting, protruding slightly into the field. In the planting itself, there are also our subcontractors. In the other, going perpendicular, there are already enemies. A lot of them. Our positions can be attacked from several sides at once.
The enemy does not keep you waiting. A few tens of metres along the landing, silhouettes are moving in our direction. The soldiers of Putin’s army came here to kill us. And then go further – to Ukrainian cities to kill, rob, rape, and destroy the lives of people and animals already there. Therefore there can be no doubt or regret that we must destroy them. My German “machine” MG5 fires burst after burst (of ammunition), the “Quiet” sitting next to me shoots, my brothers-in-arms shoot, and my neighbours shoot. Bullets from dozens of guns are flying at us, and explosions are heard. Soon the first wave of Imperial stormtroopers withdrew, leaving behind their 200s.
A few minutes later a new attack follows. This time the bullets hit the parapet of the trench from the side of the field. The enemy’s plan is clear – under the cover of his fire, to approach us as close as possible, throw grenades, and finish us off with machine guns. I change my position and turn the machine gun towards the field. “Tikhiy” remains with a thermal imager at the end of our trench, facing toward the landing occupied by the enemy – an attack should be expected from there too. After a few minutes of fierce contact, the onslaught of enemies begins to weaken. “Quiet,” I call my comrade in a low voice, “look in the tent on the field, who’s left there?” There was no answer—a warning sign.
When I crawled up to “Quiet,” he was sitting with his head down, his face buried in the parapet of the trench. MARCH protocol, an attempt to bring him to consciousness – but nothing could help. The comrade was dying.
In the morning we were replaced, and we carried the body of “Quiet” to the evacuation station. He was wearing the usual ZSU pixelated pants, and under his boots I noticed the simplest woollen black and crimson socks. “Quiet” did not acquire wealth, but he passed his not-very-long military path with dignity. In full accordance with his call sign, he quietly, stubbornly, as best he could, brought the victory of the Ukrainian people closer in this war. We will all remember how dreaming of becoming a sniper, he devoted his free time to additional study of military affairs and how bravely he behaved in his last battle. The memory of “Quiet” will forever remain an integral part of our military team. Martyrs in the struggle for freedom do not die.
Alexey Makarov, “Shved”, commander of the battle group
Сибирский батальон
