A Son's Story (standard:drama, 1848 words)
Author: TJC	Added: Jun 30 2006	Views/Reads: 3258/2181	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A fictional piece based on actual events and people. It involves a son, a young soldier, incarcerated in a German POW camp during World War II, who is desperately trying to win his father's favor back home.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

Yakov nodded.  “Yes, Sir.” 

“Dismissed,” barked Brenner.  Yakov saluted and turned and walked out of
the office to the guards who were waiting in the outer office. 

The soldiers escorted him back to the barracks across the camp.  It was
a cold, wet spring day in 1943.  The ground was soft mud other than a 
few patches of dirty snow.  As Yakov lay in his bunk later, his fellow 
inmates took turns smelling the tobacco aroma from his filthy field 
jacket.  Would he be exchanged, he wondered? Hell he wasn't sure if 
anyone even knew he was a prisoner of war.  More than likely he was 
already listed as dead.  Perhaps this was the beginning of a new life 
for himself and the father who hated him.  He'd done his duty bravely.  
Surely that counted for something.  His mind drifted to the days of his 
childhood as he began to fall into the staggered sleep that is the norm 
for a prisoner of war. 

Yakov's childhood was anything but the cushy one of comfort the Colonel
had imagined.  His mother died when he was only two and it seemed to 
him growing up that his father blamed him for her death. 

“Why couldn't you have died instead of my wife?” His father often asked.


One night as a small boy he heard his father talking with friends in the
parlor about how all of his love had died with his wife and that he had 
no love to give the boy, nor did he wish to.  To Yakov, his father was 
distant and cold at his best and abusive and hateful at his worst. 

“You're nothing,” he said constantly.  “You will never amount to a
thing.” 

Growing up without love or affection made Yakov contemplate thoughts of
suicide and as a teenager he actually tried it.  The attempt, however, 
made things even worse for him since he misfired the rifle causing 
injury but not death. 

“You can't even kill yourself right,” he father scoffed. 

When his father remarried, to a woman who was only seven years older
than Yakov,  he thought perhaps the coldness might give way to new 
happiness but this didn't happen. As his father embraced his new bride 
and the two children that followed, he pushed Yakov still further away. 
 Yakov wanted his father to love him.  Despite having every reason to 
hate his father he instead did everything in his power to win his 
approval.   Nothing worked, however, and he let himself sink deeper and 
deeper into depression and again thought about suicide. 

Then the German army invaded Russia. 

The German invasion of the Motherland brought all of the people together
with a fighting spirit and Yakov was no different.  He became a 
Lieutenant in the Red Army and went off to the front to fight the 
invaders.  Now his father would see that he was a man and love him as 
any father must love a son who is doing his duty for country and 
family.  He fought tenaciously, volunteering for any mission that came 
along.  Yakov was determined to be the best soldier in the army and he 
tried to instill the same desire in the men under him.  At Stalingrad, 
though, his unit was surrounded and after weeks without food or water, 
and his men facing certain annihilation, he reluctantly surrendered to 
the Germans. 

The prison camp was harsh.  Yakov was beaten repeatedly but he managed
to show strength, all the while imagining his father watching him.  
With every punch or kick he knew his father's pride in him would grow. 

“They won't get the best of me, father,” he'd whisper as his tormentors
continued their work.  “I'm strong and I will endure.” In his mind his 
father was standing there beaming with joy at his son's superior 
strength.  After this was all over they'd be a true father and son.  
All he had to do was show his worth. 

It was a few days later that Yakov was again summoned to see the Colonel
Brenner.   He hoped it was good news.  If he was fortunate enough to 
have been exchanged he would repair the damage with his father and then 
immediately volunteer to go back to the front and fight on until they 
took Berlin.  The rumors were strong that the Nazis were in retreat.   
Victory was going to be theirs and he would be part of that glorious 
triumph for both his country and his father. 

“Lieutenant,” said the Colonel without looking up from his desk. “The
exchange was denied.”  Yakov remained stoic.  He was determined to show 
his mettle.  Finally Brenner looked up from the desk. “Do you know why 
it was turned down?” 

“No, Sir.” 

The Colonel smiled and shook his head. “I thought our high command had
nixed the deal, but I learned that they approved it.  In fact the 
Fuhrer himself approved the offer.” 

Yakov's stomach tightened into a ghastly knot. 

“I'm told the response was negative from your side.  In fact we received
a telegram saying they have no interest in a simple soldier.”  The 
Colonel regarded him with his icy gaze.  “I guess you're just a dumb 
Russian animal again.  Get the hell out of here.” 

That night Yakov lay in his bunk seething with anger before finally
sinking into a depression and crying like a baby.  Every emotion one 
could feel at being so hated and abandoned was bubbling up to the 
surface. 

“You okay, Yakov?” It was his friend, Pashkin.  “What's the matter?” 

“Nothing.”  Yakov said sternly as steadied his emotions as best he
could.  “I'll be fine.  Let's get some sleep.” 

In the middle of the night,  hearing the snores of his fellow soldiers,
Yakov decided that he'd had enough.  He would stare death in the face 
right here and now.  There was only one true escape from the miserable 
life he'd been assigned.  Springing from his bunk he ran to the door 
and smashed the lock.  There were arms about him immediately. 

“Yakov, no,” said one man. 

“You'll be shot on sight,” said another. 

“The fence is electric. There is no way out!”  Pashkin had a hold of his
arm. 

Yakov punched Pashkin, sending him to the floor, and sprinted out into
the compound and screamed up at the guard towers. 

“Shoot me you bastards!  Shoot me.”  He sprinted around the yard getting
closer and closer to the fence.  The spot light found him and he was 
bathed in a circle of blinding white.  He heard sirens wailing and dogs 
barking.  Then a voice ordered him to “HALT.”  He just kept running and 
suddenly he was laughing uncontrollably.  He felt the lightheadedness 
of madness coming on as he again screamed up at the towers. 

“Go to hell, you miserable louts!  Fuck Hitler.....Fuck you, father.” 
His body was suddenly rippled with bullets and her felt a burning pain 
all over his torso.  Weakness set in and he felt his legs nearly give 
way.  Yakov stayed on his feet long enough, though, even as more 
bullets tore into his flesh, to throw himself into the electric fence.  
He was still laughing and screaming as his world went dark. 

*** 

In Moscow, a messenger was sent to the Kremlin with a note from the
German government.  The message read simply: 

Your son, Lieutenant Yakov Dzhugashvili, was killed while attempting to
escape. 

Josef Stalin, sitting at his desk, crumpled up the note and tossed it
into his trash can.   He then went back to his paperwork, barely 
noticing the messenger shutting the door. 

TC 


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