Dmitri soon realized that the challenges he faced extended far beyond commanding his squad.
Dinner was still the usual mashed potatoes, and the portion was smaller than at midday. Each soldier received a biscuit, barely the width of three fingers. For anyone with a larger mouth, it barely counted as a bite.
"Is there any more food?" Dmitri asked, unable to hide his frustration. "We're all starving!"
During the heat of battle, the surge of adrenaline had suppressed his hunger entirely. But now, with the battlefield temporarily quiet and his muscles finally relaxing, Dmitri felt a sharp pang in his stomach—a gnawing panic pressing against his chest.
At this moment, he no longer cared about table etiquette or the quality of the food. He would have eaten a full bucket if the cook had been willing to hand it over.
"I sympathize, comrade!" the cook replied with a grin. "If you bring me more potatoes, I can give you more!"
The soldiers laughed. Someone joked, "If there's no food, let's have some vodka!"
"Go look for it then…" the cook gestured toward the ruins of the fortress—broken bricks and shattered tiles littered the ground. "If you're lucky, maybe you'll find something edible."
"Forget it!" one soldier muttered. "The only things we'll find there are corpses and rats!"
The reality of the situation was grim. The Soviet army had been unprepared for war, storing its supplies in warehouses that had already been bombed or burned by the Luftwaffe at the start of the invasion.
It wasn't just food that was scarce; ammunition and water were also running low. The lack of water might seem surprising—after all, Brest Fortress was built at the confluence of two rivers, with sub-fortresses surrounded by artificial moats. But the water pipes had been destroyed in the bombing, and the rivers' banks were occupied by German forces. The Soviet defenders could only fetch water under cover of darkness, carrying helmets and buckets.
Initially, the Germans had not realized the fortress defenders' water shortage. They assumed the fortress would fall quickly and had no need for a targeted blockade. But after two days, German forces—alerted by captured Soviet soldiers—had positioned machine guns and artillery along the river, turning every attempt to fetch water into a near death sentence.
A sharp whistle cut through the air. Platoon Leader Pukarev shouted from ten meters away: "Second Platoon, form up!"
More than thirty soldiers jumped to their feet, quickly adjusting formation.
"Our mission!" Pukarev began, gesturing toward a stack of buckets near the trench. "We're going to the river to fetch water. The wounded and the Maxim machine guns need it. Be careful. If the Germans spot you, they'll cut you down with bullets or grenades."
"Yes, Comrade Platoon Leader!" the soldiers replied.
After the platoon dispersed, each squad received an iron bucket from the deputy platoon leader. In theory, plastic buckets would have been better for this task—but the Soviet Union's heavy industry was far more developed than its light industry, and iron was all that was available.
Dmitri felt uneasy. Even the slightest movement made the bucket clang loudly, effectively broadcasting their position to any German patrols nearby.
Before departure, Pukarev gathered the squad leaders for a quick brief debriefing.
"The Germans may be stationed across the river, or on the opposite bank. Move in small teams!" he instructed. "The first team will go by the dormitory, the second by the mess hall, and the third toward the church."
Crowding together to fetch water would be suicide. Pukarev's decision was sound.
The problem, however, was Dmitri himself.
"Comrade Platoon Leader, where exactly is the dormitory?" he asked.
Pukarev stared at him, incredulous, while the other squad leaders chuckled.
"God, Comrade Dmitri!" Pukarev said. "Your head hasn't been blown off by German bullets yet, and now you don't know where the dormitory is? The place we sleep—the ruins you see every day—and you don't know it?"
"Oh, yes, of course I know!" Dmitri lied, masking any sign of uncertainty.
"Move out!" Pukarev ordered.
"Yes, Comrade Platoon Leader!" several squad leaders responded, leading their squads along the communication trench toward the river. Dmitri, however, had barely taken a few steps before Pukarev stopped him.
"Where are you going, Dmitri?" Pukarev barked.
"To fetch water, Comrade Platoon Leader!" Dmitri replied.
"But the dormitory is over there!" Pukarev gestured down the correct trench, a mixture of frustration and disbelief on his face.
"Right, yes! Over there!" Dmitri quickly led his squad in the correct direction.
Pukarev shook his head as he watched them leave. "Unbelievable. This guy blows up a German tank, and now he's sense of direction, is missing?."
Back to Dmitri he had instructed Okunev to lead the way, knowing that he could rely on his experience. Okunev, accustomed to Dmitri's occasional lapses from battle fatigue or minor concussions, didn't question it.
When they reached the dormitory, the situation worsened. Two searchlights swept across the riverbank, and faint German voices echoed over the water.
"There are Germans!" Matvey said. "This isn't a safe place to fetch water."
"We need to move somewhere else!" Okunev agreed. "It's too dangerous here."
Dmitri, absorbed in his calculations, didn't immediately respond.
"Comrade Squad Leader, comrade squad leader!" Okunev nudged him.
"What?" Dmitri focused, finally giving his attention to the conversation.
"We're deciding whether to change the water point. What's your order?"
"Of course, choose a different location!" Dmitri said firmly.
"Then…" Matvey suggested, "we should go down the riverbank and try to find a weak point in the German blockade."
"Agreed!" Dmitri responded.
Matvey's experience as a veteran made his opinion influential among the troops.
"Comrade Squad Leader!" Matvey asked, "what's the final order?"
"Hmm... Does anyone know the location of the Jurav air-raid shelter?" Dmitri asked.
"Of course!" Matvey replied immediately.
"That's where we go!" Dmitri commanded.
"We're going there?" Matvey frowned. "But that's an abandoned shelter in the center of the fortress. There won't be any water there!"
"There is water. Trust me." Dmitri said, his tone leaving no room for debate.