Welcome Home?

Day 168, 18:54 Published in Norway Norway by Sasha Igorovich

The war had forced me twice to relocate from my beloved home in the beautiful Urals, first to Khabarovsk, and then to Kaliningrad.

Now that the war is over, I have again returned home. This should be a happy day, but my heart aches. I hardly recognize my hometown. Nordic flags fly everywhere. The streets are still covered in blood from comrades who fought valiantly against the double-crossing Nordic Horde against all odds. My tears mingle with their blood.

It is difficult to walk down the streets because of the potholes left from the mortar blasts and the ruble of bricks and timbers. The walls of the buildings are riddled with bullets. Our women, having been brutally raped by the Nordic Horde, hover trembling behind windows from which most of the glass is missing. Old men and women wander the streets half-dressed, clutching small suitcases and bags having been forcibly expelled from their homes by our oppressors. At the far end of the street the Nords have even forced our Russian survivors to unceremoniously pile the bodies of their comrades and ignite them with gasoline. Devastation is everywhere!

I should be welcomed by friends and loved ones upon my return home, but I am greeted instead by security checkpoints by the occupiers at every other street corner. They boast and gloat. They mock my motherland and her attempt to defend herself against their senseless greed and bloodlust. With their every word, my blood boils more and more, and my will becomes firmer and stronger.

We may be occupied, but we will not submit. I AM RUSSIAN -- I WILL NEVER BE NORWEGIAN! We will take our homeland back, We will expel the invader and occupier, We will kill every last Nord.

Long Live The Motherland, Long Live ROSSIYA!