Sana Rehman

Who Wants The Skin Of Rabinowitz: The authenticity project Sana Rehman

Siberia was not the dream, but it was still better than Afghanistan. There the fascist rebels were shooting you in the back. If they got you stuck, they would cut you into little pieces. Very slowly. And if we were really unlucky, it was their good wives who took care of the cutting. Starting with the bottom pieces. Obviously.
When it wasn't the guys across the way who were hiding you, it was the guys from above, your own officers, who threw you under the tracks of the tanks. Before we even had time to think of deserting.
Ever since the Supreme Soviet had invented Afghanistan, Siberia had been a piece of cake, Yuri Gorov repeated to himself, beating the footing at the gates of the small Siberian town. In reality, Sergeant Gorov could not have sworn that it was a small town. It could be a big village as well. In any case, one thing was certain: there were no questions to ask about the instructions he had received. His regiment sealed off the town and no one was to leave. And that's all. He was to apply the so-called "graduated response" tactic, a plan that unfolded in four stages. One: to ask the comrade to kindly return to his dacha with his babushka. Two: in case of failure, reason with the suspect, by activating the breech of his kalashnikov to give weight to his arguments. Three: call his officer. Four: if the first three summons had failed, kill the lustful viper, who was not to leave the big village under any circumstances.
For the sergeant, shooting prisoners was hardly surprising. But the people of the surrounded village were not prisoners. And that was already more astonishing. But there was still much more surprising.