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This is a short story inspired by my admiration of WWII, Please give me the curtesy of feedback, it is most welcomed.
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The Frozen Waste

The crunch of my shoes in the thick icy mass, I will never forget that sound. Like a good song played on loop, it eventually embeds itself into your waking thoughts likewise the malevolent winds that billow off the frozen wastes. Winter, a season of treachery, hardship and disaster yet my comrades welcomed its bitter resolve. General Vasilevsky had given us the orders, and no amount of self pity or doubt corrupted our ideals, the motherland had to be saved.

Stalingrad, a desolate city, overrun with fascist scum yet it was a strategic marker we were told. My unit had camped ourselves on the northern flanks of the detested fascist incumbents, for the low moral of the Austrians and the inferior equipment would make them easy targets for the red siege.
“Colonel! Colonel Korovin! Those bastards, they see us!” my lieutenant frantically bellowed as he stumbled in the fresh white curse.

“Gather the forces, to arms! To arms!” I howled, my breath shaking and steaming in that hellish place.
My troops gathered there courage and moral, I tucked my Tokarev into my holster and prepared to dye red all that was white.

The first wave of our greeting came in the form of the Italian unit, how dare they take insult us with there demoralised units. They were slaughtered like crops under a harvest moon, the Goronov chatter was deafening. None were spared, the motherland claimed them all. Young men, old veterans, all were slaughtered under operation Saturn. Although the corpses piled up, the air was fresh, not even the scent of reality could best the icy wind. Stumbling over the dead, disposing of the wounded we made our way into the outer limits of the most depressing and chilling establishment I have ever witnessed. We had suffered low casualties, some of our finer soldiers revelled in the slaughter. It makes them men, the wolves of the motherland had descended upon the abomination we knew as the fascist army.

The outer concrete forest of rubble and carcass proved little resistance, the remnant Austrians were tired and hungry, our offensive had been successful in claiming the lives of many, without wasting neither men nor gunpowder. Like animals led to slaughter, the wolves ravaged the remnant, before taking to the streets where the real battle began.

The bullet whistled past my head and impaled my lieutenant in the chest, he had been careless. We ducked for cover and help our position. We were picked off rapidly, down to almost 50 men I knew I had to do something to rescue this assault. The Fascists showed themselves, we were dismayed when the panzers stood, almost frozen themselves. The mental boost from there lack of teeth warmed the blood of my soldiers.

“Korovin RPG!” a young badge less shrieked. I dived out of the way and unsheathed my Goronov, I mowed down those bastards, one by one. Not even Satan would be able to recognise there faces when they descended to the fiery depths of the netherworld. My captain covered me as I slid from one automobile to another, the steel shields protecting my advance. I slipped 2 F1’s from my belt and counted to three. It seemed like time slowed down, even for that brief second. “The deep breath before my ascension to god” I pondered as my thoughts dwelled on my son and my wife. I gathered my strength, and leapt out from behind my steel saviour and let fly my twin fruits of hatred. The explosions were fierce and powerful, my ears rang but that let me know I was still alive. I rolled out of the way before the bearings returned to the enemy.

I provided enough time for my riflemen to position themselves high in the concrete slaughterhouses, they proceeded to pick of the disorientated troops with ease, and we advanced further into the gates of hell.
It seemed as though hell had indeed frozen over. The icy stars began to fall once again from the sky, and all the heat from the destruction seemed to seep away. It was as if the ground swallowed up all hope and comfort.

My efforts at the gates had meant we had suffered little casualties from there on, but that changed when we reached the crossroads in the inner circle of the haunted wastes.

The snow was quickly shattered by an even more menacing rain, bullets and shrapnel hailed down like the wrath of evil, cutting our assault and administering a huge decimation to my troops. Now locked in an ironic fire fight in the snow my troops faded fast, we had the knifes edge of position and moral was weakening, that was when the seed of doubt propagated in my mind, and it spread like a deadly poison through my body. The toxin of doubt, the venom of forethought, my mind wandered endlessly into the abyss I was now convinced I was damned to.

The men to my right were incinerated by fascist hellfire, while I scrambled for position. Climbing over the corpses of those whom I swore to protect, ice crystals hit the road snow clear, but they were not from the heavens, they were my tears. Show no mercy, no weakness or doubt… these rules rang in my soul and kindled the fight which had been all but extinguished.

Gathering all those able, I devised an off hand improvisation to buy us time. Korovin, they named it, the sign of a true leader it was labelled. Using the fallen as shields of flesh we made a desperate scramble for the devils keep.

Under heavy fire I made it, 10 with me, we opened the gates of mortality and let those undesirable creatures taste there own blood. We climbed up to the rooves annihilating as we continued, the fascists retreated, defeated and deflated. The looming darkness was very our enemy also, those that had legs to bare them were also retreaded to the camps.

In the midst of the dangers, we pursued no longer we awaited the reinforcements to take up from where we had punctured the bubble of misguided Arian terror.

I was retired to the command post for my services that day, against my will and testimony. On reflection I thank them for my beating heart, so I could share it with my family. The motherlands pride was well defended. Never again will snow be our enemy, the cold is our nature but it forever ceases to be a danger
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Hell no. I read, i like but evaluation from me is something i don't do to well so i was waiting for you.