'Frozen' is a fictional story about an American soldier named Jeffrey Maron during World War II, and what happened to him and his fellow soldiers during the Russian-German battle of Zamerzshiy.
The year was 1942, month of April the 23rd. World War II was at it's height, German forces have been breaking through the Russian defenses and have advanced a third way to Moscow. America was already involved in the war, helping with the southern European battles to the east and fending themselves off from the Japanese from the west. Seeing as though their forces are spread thin as it is, it would be a costly and deadly action to send any kind of major force to the German-Russian front. Instead, one high ranking official decided to send a recon squadron to the front. More specifically, the 23rd Reconnaissance Squadron of the Milwind Base at Scranton, Pennsylvania.
In this squadron is Private Jeffrey Maron, a 24 year old lean white male with short brown hair, green eyes and a 5 o' clock shadow who has extensive training in reconnaissance and survival. His superiors want to promote him but he needs more experience in the field, but this is his opportunity to do so. He's eager to go but this will be a long plane ride over the ocean and over the frozen wasteland between the stop in Great Britain and their destination in a key city in Soviet Russia.
Jeffrey is a good guy. He's treated well and respected by his fellow soldiers. One soldier was his best friend, John Halle, another lean 24 year old male but with blonde hair and brown eyes. They met in high school and have been friends ever since. Jeffrey would talk to him everyday and train by him. Jeffrey is also a little intelligent. He knows German and a little Russian, which he learned on his free time.
When the day came for the squadron would leave on the plane, the captain explained and reminded the soldiers that now their skills would be put to use. An hour later, at around 16:00 hours (or 4 in the afternoon) the squadron loaded up into the large personnel plane at the base air strip. The plane wasn't scheduled to be at the city in Russia until afternoon the next day, so then when the squadron made it to Britain they slept there for the night... uncomfortably in the plane. At 6:00 hours in the morning, they all woke up to the wonderful sound of loud planes and yelling British soldiers. The squadron relaxed around base for a little and went to the town to get a drink. Being the men they are, they hit on the foreign girls. The girls weren't into them, so let's say no one started the American Invasion.
When it came time to leave to Russia, the men lugged themselves back to the plane and set out for the city at around 12:00 hours. Sometime later, the fellas were becoming bored and Jeffrey decided to peer out the small window next to him. He looked down at the ground and noticed they were pretty high, but not too high. He saw an endless wasteland of snow, but a few minutes later he saw a small little flash go off in the farthest distance ahead of the plane. He tried to peer with his peripheral vision to see what it was. Barely seeing it, he could see a small town and a forest covered in snow next to it. More importantly, he could see a battle raging on below. It must be between German and Russian forces. When the plane started to fly over the town's airspace, the unexpected happened, the plane began to shake a little and all the soldiers began to freak out. The one co-pilot yelled out "Hold tight!" as a few flak rounds pierced the two right engines of the plane. A loud bang occured and all the soldiers held their ears.
The soldiers could feel it, the plane was tilting to the right and downward. They all held onto their restraints for dear life as they spiraled to the ground. After only 20 seconds of falling, which felt as long as 2 minutes, the plane crashed into the frozen wasteland. Jeffrey's vision went black...
A few hours later lying in the cold snow, Jeffrey wakes up slowly as he gains the strength to raise himself onto his forearms and look around. His vision recovers from a daze as he notices his fellow soldiers spread around the crash site. A few were crushed to death, others torn apart and dead from lethal impact. A body set on fire as a flame ejected from an engine. Jeffrey was shocked to see this, the image was stained into his mind. The body in front of him jolted back to life with a cough. He starts to crawl towards it to see who it is. He found out it was John...
Jeffrey held his hand on John's bleeding chest and said "Are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?" in a worried voice. John rolled his fainting eyes to Jeffrey with blood drooling from his mouth, "I can't... feel my... legs...". Jeffrey panicked and promised him, "It's gonna be okay, we're going to get you out of here!". John immediately grabbed Jeffrey's wrist and stated, "No... I'm not gonna live... and there's no way you can take me with you... I'd just slow you down... Survive Jeff... do what you were trained to do... *coughs blood*... You get out of here and find... help...". A tear went down Jeffrey's cheek as he saw his only friend left being taken away by death. Out of disbelief he persisted on saying, "No, no! I'm gonna make sure you'll live!". John snapped back, "You are going to make sure you live!... *coughs more heavily*... I gotta go now Jeffrey... it's been nice knowing ya... *voice begins to fade and give up*... Take care... of... yourself...".
John's grip on Jeffrey's wrist loosened as his life faded away. His eyes lost the last ounce of life he had as he bled out. His blood stained the pure white Russian snow which joined the rest of the squadron's. Jeffrey stayed strong as he ripped off John's dogtags and put them into his pocket. Jeffrey gained the strength once again to get to his knees and then to his feet. As he stood weak above the snow he could see everything and everyone. He turned around and saw the town they were flying over, roughly 700 feet away.
This is where his survival instincts kicked in. He made his way into the wreckage to look around for anything he could use. Moving some debris around he found a small duffle bag with a M1 Carbine and only a few bullets aside it. He checks the clip and it's already full, so he straps the gun onto right shoulder and the bag onto his right. He continues to search around and he discovers the food supply crate spilled over with most of the canned goods either crushed or exploded. Only a few cans of the goods were still intact so he took advantage of them and stuffed them into the bag.
It's all he found in the wreckage so he stepped back outside and walked towards the town. The journey there seemed simple. There was no obstacles, just a distance of flat snow between him and the town. Only thing that troubled him was the cold air brushing against his body and face. There was no battle raging at the town too. As he walked away from the plane, he looked back after a certain distance and stopped the face it. He soaked in the sight to say that he was really alone. He held up his right hand to salute his fallen soldiers, one last goodbye to them and John. After a moment he put his arm down and continued walking to the town.
As he stepped through the snow he became a little colder and his cheeks began to turn more blush. His weak body started to recover more as he walked. About 8 minutes later he reached the edge of the town. It was unsettlingly quiet as he drew closer, the battle was really over then. Jeffrey was now into the town as his feet left the snow and onto the ashes and debris of the black streets. The buildings were grey and colorless, only accompanied by the omnipresent snow and the darkened streets covered in death and decay. As he delved deeper into the site he could see dead corpses litering the ground and a few vehicles on fire and burst apart. One thing that really disturbed him is that the Russian bodies outnumbered the German.
This only spelled out defeat for the Russians and to think the Germans are getting closer to Moscow. This isn't good but there's nothing Jeffrey could do about it. He was by himself in this chilling purgatory and there's no communication to the world. Jeffrey looked into the sky and saw that it was turning orange which meant night was about to come. He needed a place to stay and luckily there were plenty of small buildings around. He looked around to find the best place to sleep in and get warm and sure enough he found a good candidate.
As Jeffrey neared the building he pulled his gun up and readied himself for any kind of contact. He put his left hand on the doorknob and slowly turned it. While opening the door, a loud creeking sound came from it. He stepped inside the building and noticed it was dark and gray with a lingering cloud of dust and grey particles wherever visible in the light from the windows. Other than that he noticed nothing else so Jeffrey moved forward. He looked around for anything he could use as a light or heat source. To his misfortune there was nothing around he could even see. So he had to sit there in the cold darkness of the Russian night.
Huddled up in a dark corner as the night went on, he began to feel more alone than ever. No one to talk to... no one to survive with... just surrounded by death and darkness. Nobody would know he was dead... just absent. Nobody would know where he is. His corpse would be frozen and forgotten under the snow. Frozen timeless and forever to be alone. His soul would grow cold with no warmth from love, care or companionship. Jeffrey slowly closed his eyes not knowing if he'd die or not, but he was ready to accept it either way....
In the morning, the sun broke over the horizon and warmed up the atmosphere. The snow glistened outside and little rays of sunshine came through the windows of where Jeffrey slept. The sunshine hit Jeffrey and he opened his eyes. He wasn't dead after all. He looked up and around and saw a few things revealed that he couldn't see last night. A door and a few small tables with objects on top of them were line up against the far wall. A couch and some other foreign furniture were there too. Some destroyed, some not. He checked to see if he had everything. His bag was there, the contents was too, as well as his rifle resting inbetween his body and arm.
Jeffrey decided to get up and continue looking around for anything he could use. He needed find a place to light a fire for warmth, preferably a fireplace. He wouldn't want to make a man-made fireplace if it wasn't necessary. He walked with his gun in his hands but rested down. He looked at the table to see what was there. There were just a few fine plates and a candestick that was knocked over. He continued to walk to the door and open it. On the other side was a small storage closet on the left and a staircase going up on the right. Jeffrey took a peek into the storage closet and there was nothing there so he headed up the stairs to the second floor. When he got up there, it was a small hallway with two doors on the left.
He opened the first door and noticed it was a decently sized bedroom fit for an adult. He walked inside and noticed it was messy. Probably from the comotion of the battle. He looked a little more and saw something horrible. A father, mother and two children lied dead on the floor. Blood splattered along the wall as the stench of the decay got to Jeffrey's senses. He looked away and walked out of the room. It'll be something he'll have to deal with later on. Jeffrey decided it was time to check the other room so he approached the door that belonged to it. He turned the knob and opened the door to a room that's the same size. It was plain but there were a few things that belonged to a child. Luckily there were no dead bodies in here, just a little messy. He looked around a little more and noticed a popular toy he heard about. It was a... Matryoshka doll? Yeah, a Matryoshka doll.
Jeffrey picked it up and looked at it. There were some scratches on the doll but the paint was still intact. A small part of him wanted to keep it but he doesn't know if it would be the right thing to do. Choosing to listen to the small part of him he slowly put it in his bag and left the room.