We need only look at history to see why Russian culture is degenerate cancer. I see it's total eradication from Chernarus as the only option to ensure the future for my people. I had not always thought this way. I had thought them once as just another people, them as innocent and somewhat attractive in ways. My family has been living in Chernarus since 1800. No one from my family rose to significance, but what matters, is my pure Chernarussian blood that runs through me. But in order to understand my genuine hatred towards Russia, my story is important to learning why. I was born on April 28th, 1990. I was too little to remember the fall of the Soviet Union, but I remember growing up in a free country, a loved nation. 1997, my brother attended a rally to protest against the formation of the Working Man’s Defense Alliance, I remember the vulgar language that he called it. Yet it didn't bother me at the time, I had turned 7 and couldn't care about such big words as these but I grew up watching the dividing of my country, but had no say or no control over the communists slowly corrupting and gaining power over the people. Growing up, turning 19 in 2009 I hadn't really paid attention to the political situation at hand, and why should I have? I had my whole life ahead of me, to go and travel the world, see me raise a family and enjoy life. It was sometime in early September, that Lopotev pushed his movement over the breaking point and so it began, the war that would literally change everything I had ever thought. Communism was like heroin – once a lonely, desperate soul was hooked on it, he or she became a fanatic – radicalized they call it – ready to die for a cause that didn’t exist by helping to rain down hell on earth for all who didn’t believe in it. I followed my brother, he who was older to me, joined the Chernarussian Defense Force as a soldier. I wasn't really sure what I was fighting for yet, but the idea that some had the audacity to arise to overthrow the government, that had triggered something within. We were stationed in Kirovograd, our company was assigned to protect the highschool that was situated so that it gave an excellent line of sight into the surrounding suburban area. We didn't know it, but as the days turned to weeks, we had no idea, that our fate was sealed. It came early in the morning, artillery bombarded us early morning on the 16th. Howitzers and rockets landed all around us, killing and maiming, no regard for accuracy just mere firepower to overwhelm us, it stopped around lunch, but we had only experienced a taste of what was to come. We watched as Russian tanks and infantry charged at us from the front, the red guard from our behind. We held them off for only 45 minutes, I watched my comrades explode and disintegrate in front of me, I killed my first man, no thought about it but I just did it, second kill, third fourth and fifth. I and my brother, plus maybe ten or so of us escaped further into the city, with our tails between our legs we saw how dire our situation had become. We had never asked, no we were told that we would die in that city. Fighting through the outskirts of the suburbian area we had to retreat once again to the city. My brother and I had at this point given up, little ammunition, and watching our comrades being slaughtered like cattle was frankly terrifying. We ended up running into a house, it's occupants had left but we had known that the communists were close. We ran through the house into the upstairs attic. Barricading the doorway, we sat in silence, listening to the sounds of civilians and soldiers alike being gunned down. Some shells landed close but we sat there, listening, watching out the small moon window. It got to about four in the afternoon. The Russians and Communists were clearing the houses, we heard them enter our building, I hid behind the stacks of boxes and as my brother was about to dive to his hiding place, the makeshift barricade roared upwards with an explosion behind it, throwing my brother across the room. They came up, grabbed him, and left immediately, how I wasn't found seemed a miracle. But they dragged him onto the street and kicked him onto the pavement, along with other civilians and soldiers. Lined them up, I watched a Russian squad laugh as an officer walked up the line waving a pistol in their face. He shot the civilians in front of the soldiers, women, and children with 7.62 bullets in the back of their heads. They grabbed my brother, threw him to the ground, and then shot him. Now I knew the cruelty of it. A hatred grew, there and then. No way of changing that. I waited longer for them to move along, I managed to find civilian clothes and escape out the city onto the river, where I waited. What happened later throughout the war disgusted me. I watched my country, my homeland, my people crumble under the boot of communism, Russian backed communism. Watching and learning how the "Russianization" of my nation was enforced through lies, it was controlled totally and utterly. The death of the communist bastard Lopotev from a young nationalist gave me hope, a revival of spirit to fight back. In April, to watch Bernarus openly work with Russia on a global stage had made me furious, Chenarus was becoming another part of the Russian degeneracy. Annexation and now assimilation. I will not cannot stand for this, I vow it that I will die for a free Chernarus. Hearing of the virus spreading throughout the world scared me, as it did pretty much all. Yet watching the Government simply ignore it, felt disrespectful and helped to show it's true colors. The people still, guided by the falsehood of the government lies and propaganda actually believed it, that it wouldn't affect them. I gathered supplies, bought a rifle similar to the one I had in the war. It was around April 2020 that I heard horror stories, campfire tales of infected people ripping the throats of non-infected people, their flesh falling off their skin and them becoming something else. But I laughed when I saw the people starting to riot, becoming frustrated and taking action against the puppets in government, watching police cars burn, the beating of police officers who used violence to suppress the peoples, oh how it gave me satisfaction. May 10th saw martial law, shoot on site, shoot to kill. Again, I watched from afar the cruelty that these bastards imposed on the people. May 31st, the day I felt my vengeance could begin. My intense hatred towards the Russians was unleashed, I walked into a police station and shot at the first people I saw. Because that's all they understood, my brother had a similar fate, those civilians, the soldiers, everyone had endured the hatred. That's all these bastards knew, was total disregard for life, so I treat them as such as they treated the people, like animals. This disease is a new opportunity. A new hope. I will find my place in this world.