text: Oleg sets his Nagant rifle up against a burned out tree as he sits against it for a short nap, the advance of Operation Bagration has taken its toll on him. He pulls a picture from his helmet of his lovely Katyusha back home he thinks of the first time he brought her flowers, the first time she said yes to a date and her laughable first attempt at bread. These warm memories were all that kept him going with the hope that he would make many more when he got home. He slowly drifts away to sleep hearing the sounds of distant gunfire, he knows when he awakes that he will be joining that hell soon. He is awoken by a unfamiliar sound. Not gunfire or artillery but by horse hooves galloping and tearing up the earth. He rises to his feet quickly noticing he in now in deep snow, confused but disregarding it he turns to grab his rifle but its gone, looking around he realizes the forest is no longer devastated but pristine and untarnished the snow hangs peacefully off every unbroken tree. The sound of hooves gets heavier as an armored column of around 15 men stop in front of him. These men are puzzled by Oleg's most bizarre appearance and Oleg is just as perplexed but recognizes one man, the leader of the column, Alexander Nevski. Oleg's mind races with questions and theories but before he can get far in his thoughts Nevski speaks: "Who are you that dresses strangely and sleeps upon my road? Some kind of beggar or vagabond?" Oleg responds "I am Oleg, corporal part of the 334th rifle division 7th corps of the Soviet army" Nevski looks Oleg up and down curiously "You speak strangely but I know a soldier when I see one, do you serve the Rus or are you part of the Teutonic's?" Oleg's mind races again, the term Rus hadn't been used for Russia in hundreds of years but yet THIS WAS Alexander Nevski, nothing made sense as he stammered "I- I serve the Rus from the day I was born to the day I fall" Nevsky smirks at this response before commanding "Get this man armed and put him in the front with the pikes his devotion will inspire the others." Oleg interrupts "I am confused what is-" a bash from a pommel of one of the men ends any questions he may have had. He awakens again several hours in a tent with a few other men, most of them looking like peasants sitting around a small fire. Oleg's head aches too much to ask the what or why anymore he just needs to find out how to get back and save Russia from the Germans. Oleg begins speaking to them men and after greetings are exchanged they inquire to his strange dress, several more hours pass as Oleg awes these men with tales of machines and how powerful the Rus have become and how the peasants rose up and became the leaders. Such fantastic stories he told but then again they are all just stories not to be taken serious, one story however, did make the hearts of the men heavy. Oleg began speaking of Katyusha, her beauty and soft nature and how he would give all to protect her, after all she was going to be his wife. The peasants knew not what to think of this man, he spoke of fantastic and crazy things but seemed normal and he could laugh and talk just as well as any man, perhaps he dreamed too much and could no longer distinguish the two? Nevertheless they all struck up a friendships of sorts and one man Yaroslav, a bard by trade was fascinated and thought to perhaps write an epic of the man from another time, however this was not the time. This was the eve of April 5th, 1242 the battle on the ice was about to begin...... Oleg slumped down after hearing what was going to transpire, he had no way to get home, no knowledge of what was going on but he knew that his people needed his help from another German invasion and it was no different to what he faced back home. Oleg sighed deeply before steeling himself and trading all the materials he had, his fathers pocketwatch, his sisters necklace, all his tools and equipment and even his belt for a shield, spear, helmet and chainmail. The only thing he kept was the ring Katyusha had given him as a promise that they would always wait for eachother. Morning came and rest was not something Oleg was granted as he began his grim march to duty he lined up with hundreds of his new comrades many looked no different than the soldiers he knew and fought with before. Yaroslav stood behind his new friend and placed a hand on his shoulder "Oleg no matter what happens I will find and make sure Katyusha knows your feelings and what you have done". Words escaped Oleg at this time who merely nodded in affirmation as the heavy Teutonic cavalry began their advance, steadily becoming a gallop, a charge to break the lines and shatter the Russian people. Now as after Oleg would stand in the face of this, he would never allow any invader to harm his home, his people, his Katyusha no matter where they are. The battle was long and many fell the stench of death was heavy as the cries of the wounded cried for help or mercy but the Rus stood victorious. Yaroslav was kneeling down holding Olegs cold hands, a horse had trampled him during the battle and his chest had been crushed but his face showed no pain, no horror as many others had but if you only looked at his face you would think this man had gone peacefully in his sleep. Yaroslav wept and in the coming months travelled to every corner of Rus land seeking out this woman that Oleg had a small painting of. Sadly as the months and seasons past he could not find her, was Oleg really from another time? Yaroslav sat by his hearth thinking deeply before picking up his Domra and began plucking at different notes and tunes, perhaps he may not find Katyusha in his lifetime but I can make something that will last long enough for her to know.