My name is Vilem. I was born and raised in Solnichniy. When I think back, I’d say I had a beloved childhood within a big family. We did not have much but we made the best out of it. My brothers and sisters were taught to keep and share a close bond of trust and strength. Only if a man works hard for his family he becomes a real man. Maybe that is what kept me alive during this chaos.
My brothers, cousins and I always played outside, seeing our fathers at the old quarry. We did not have much. I was a boy when the workers stepped up against the company’s working conditions. The men of my family did not back down. I remember it took many policemen to stop them and lock them away. Things like that would have never stopped my uncle and my father, they were revolutionists. There were always people at our families place. They spoke to my uncle. Those meetings lasted for hours. I remember the smell of vodka and cigarettes in the air. Sometimes they traveled to the north and stayed there for weeks. The men appeared fearless and strong. They spoke up against the rich and helped out others, so they could feed their children. As a kid, I always wanted to be one of them, playing outside with the beret one of them gave to me. To me, the red star always was a symbol of justice and family. As a young man, I remember visiting my cousins in Berezino, stealing some vodka from our father’s distillery to impress the girls. Those memories make me smile even today. It was before things changed.
When I was around 16 or 17 I started to tag along with the men who followed my uncle. I was taught how to protect myself along with many other things. The red star became my uniform and the Sotnya Syem - the group of seven, my second family. We called together a lot of strong men and took down the ones who harmed us. The ones who were led by greed, only interested in their own well being.
We were the ones fighting for everyone’s justice. One would think that every Chernarussian would’ve supported our case but sadly some of them chose a different way. I remember the night our distillery lit up in flames. Those NAPA rats came crawling in the dark and blew up the boilers. We caught a few of them but not the ones who came up with this cowardly plan. These days anyone could have been a rat. It was on us to find out who was supporting our enemy. Trust me, the Sotnya Syem, we were known for our ways of interrogation. We did what we had to. Sometimes our hands got as dirty as theirs but at that time it wasn’t about us, it was about justice for Chernarussian families.
It took sweat and blood but our strength and numbers grew. What started as a group of hard working men became an army. Along with the support of our Russian brothers, we made our way into the town hall and called out to the people to make up their minds. Some of them still did not understand but we still gave our country the right name, the one which should have remained until today: the Chernarussian Socialistic Republic. We tried our best to hold out in the city but when the westerners arrived, we had to back down. Even in Msta they found us. It was a bloody year. I did my part back then. I do my part now, trying to forget some of the things which are still following me in my sleep.
Most of the Sotnya Syem fell in Chernogorsk. Some comrades and I made it to Msta. Even then, we still had to fight. After forcefully leaving the town behind, I decided to go North. I moved into a city called Zagorsk had lost contact to my uncle Mikola. After he was almost taken by the western pigs, he told me that he’ll move from Shakovka to Krasnostav but he never arrived there. I never found out what happened to him. I kept my head low. We were just a few left of the movement. In the streets you’d notice familiar faces but we we’re lacking a leader, someone to organize our power again. Contacting my family was too much of a risk. A lot of my brothers and cousins fell in battle or were locked away like dogs. I decided to stay hidden in Zagorsk and earned some money with jobs no one else was willing or able to do.
When the dead started to walk the streets, I grabbed my belongings and searched for some shelter. Just like everyone one else I've met at that time. I knew the CDF weaklings would not be able to protected anyone around, just like their western friends. Since society broke down I've been traveling along a lot of different people. These days I am not sure what to do. Maybe it wouldn’t have gotten this far if the right people had the lead in this country. Who knows? I just want people of this country to be able to live in peace. I have lost so many brothers and sisters. I’ve seen my father fighting for his life, being taken down by an American. I don’t know if there is family left alive. I am tired of the ground of my home being soaked in blood.
- Remaining Members of the Chernarusskiy Dvizhenie Krasnaya Zvezda / Chedaki -
- Comfort -
- Vodka & Cigarettes -
- Chernarussian civilians in need -
- USMC remnants -
- American Military -
- Remnants of the National Party -
- People hoarding tons of needed goods, not sharing with others in need-