Misha, a poor peasant farmer from one of the many Soviet republics, was gently slumbering when a crash awoke him. Two armed men were standing at the door with papers. He was unable to read, but he immediately recognized the word "conscript". He did not resist, he knew he would be shot. He was taken to an awaiting train, and packed with many others into cattle cars. Everyone looked depressed. The ride seemed to take forever, but it gave him a chance to reflect on what he’d be fighting for. Some other conscripts had gotten a ticket home for heroic action.

During the ride, he met an aspiring communist by the name of Boris. Boris was too fanatic for Misha’s taste. He went on for the entirety of the train ride rambling about how the capitalist pigs will be crushed. While Boris had also been separated from his family, he believed it to be his duty and privilege to serve mother Russia.

When the train was unloaded, the two new friends found a line with armed guards on either side, and heavy machinegun towers overlooking the camp. Along the line the men were issued uniforms, guns, rations, and munitions. The gun was a small sub-machinegun. 10 ammo drums were issued to each man containing a little over a hundred rounds apiece, but all of this seemed odd. The Soviet Union was not at war.

After the encounter at the camp, the men were shipped in trucks to a small dirt strip. They took a "crash course" on the operation of a parachute and were loaded into the Soviet version of the C-130 Hercules. The men were cramped. In a plane designed to accommodate a little over 60 paratroopers, some 100 or so were packed in. After half an hour of flying time, the gentle humming of the engines put Misha to sleep.

He was abruptly woken up by Boris, who had remained at his side, just in time to avoid a lashing at the hands of his superiors. Then came the moment of truth. The conscripts had to jump into an unknown location, hoping their commanders could find them in time. Misha tried to keep sight of Boris, but his friend quickly became an anonymous face among the hundreds of conscripts, planes, and Kirov airships that inhabited the skies. 

The skyline he was dropping onto looked familiar, then he noted a large statue in the distance. This was New York City. Misha hit the roof of one of New York’s many tall buildings. He ran, as if possessed, to the nearest stairwell, and ascended down to the bottom. Along the way, he encountered civilians that scrambled out of his way. He did not bother to pursue them, for he thought it pointless and unethical. 

After some searching he managed to find a commander and reported for duty. The commander grouped Misha with several other conscripts, including Boris, and in a loud, Russian, voice he proclaimed, "You are now an infantry squad. Boris, your new rank is sergeant, you have the squad!"

Boris had no idea what to do and proceeded to ask. The commander said, "Kill capitalists! Take New York!"

Boris shouted, "Move out!"

The squad hobbled their way to the front. The small group of conscripts knew they wouldn’t last long by themselves, so they proceeded to make nice with a squad of Tesla Troopers. The brutish looking men were wearing an Iron suit with rubber-sole shoes. The immense amount of electricity they could fire was capable of knocking out tanks. For the next week or so they went about their duties. 

Often, the conscripts would draw tanks into a trap, and then the Tesla Troopers would take over. The conscripts would then move back in to mop up the escorting infantry.

Then, one day, a message was heard over the radio:

Yuri is a traitor, he has been cornered in the Kremlin, and it has been eliminated. Our beloved Premier Romanoff has been badly injured, but we will continue the fight.

Misha did not know any of these names. Boris was only vaguely familiar with them himself. This news had little effect on their fight. The street fighting had gotten progressively worse. The GI’s that were being sent against the conscripts had started deploying machinegun nests. Often, as many as 50 rounds would have to be shot at one. The Tesla troopers had become targets with the arrival of the Navy special unit, the SEAL. The SEAL was capable of eliminating Tesla Troopers from well outside their range of fire. The only defense conscripts had had been to hole up in buildings, but this proved futile. The allies would call in long range Prism Tanks and Harrier strikes against the garrisoned buildings.

The soviet commander ordered a fresh new assault utilizing a new invention, the Apocalypse tank. The Harrier missiles did little to the rumbling fortress’s armour, and Allied tanks could do little to stop it. The Allied defenses quickly snapped, but out of nowhere a message came over the radio: 

The Allies have captured Moscow, our commander has signed the surrender treaties, lay down your arms.

The message was almost surreal. They were winning, how could the Allies take Moscow? 

As the troops wandered, slightly dazed, to the Allied forces, Misha noticed several Tesla Troopers walking without their massive equipment. One unparticular one, was wearing the classic red suit issued to Tesla Troopers worn under their armor, he was skinny, much like Mish. In looking around, all of the soviet troops looked the same without their special equipment. They were all conscripted, and they were all in the same boat.

The Allies, after hearing of Romanoff’s conscription, decided too let most of the Soviet troops return to their families that they loved so much. This way reasoned the Allies, the Soviets troops would be eager to surrender in a future war, knowing that would be able to return home.

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