[ WP ] You are a resident of a remote town with a population of around 1300 located in Russia , and have just been besieged by a large pack of 400 wolves . You must hold out until you can get assistance from the government . [ xpost from /r/todayilearned ]

Vasily was an old man now. He had fought in Stalingrad. He shook hands with Stalin. He had been a sniper. He was good, not the best, but good. After the war, he moved back to this place with its freezing cold and interminable winters. It was here that he raised a family, watched the USSR lose the space race and eventually the Cold War. Since that day, he had expected death to be just around the corner, but here he was alive for this spectacle. Almost 90 years old but no slouch, he watched as a pack of wolves like he had never seen before attack the livestock, then the children. Well, then, something awoke in Vasily. Something fierce and angry and insatiable. 
 
 In that freezing winter weather, Vasily left the safety of his home with his trusted rifle, two.45s, an AK-47, and two knives in the hopes of keeping the town safe for three days. That was how long it would take for this incompetent, corrupt government to arrive. Three days instead of 12 hours because a couple of people had picked the wrong side 20 years ago. 
 
 The pack was huge. They had destroyed a herd of reindeer, lots of dead horses. Still, no dead people, but that was coming... unless he could stop it. He holds the rifle steadfast against his shoulder and takes aim. He fires five shots before the pack knows what hits them. He reloads and fires at the retreating pack. One man can drive them away. Vasily smiles. He has 1000 rounds, just in case. 
 
 The wolves are not retreating. They are regrouping. He keeps firing at the pack. With his rifle, he does not miss. He feels like a young man again. He does not stop firing at them even as four separate packs move in on him. He does not run. He moves toward one of the outer groups. He continues to fire with his rifle until he is out of ammo. He pulls the AK-47, blasting a few rounds at a time then reloading twice more until the wolves surround him. He pulls his pistols and starts shooting, never missing. 
 
 The wolves are on him now. He drops a.45 and pulls a knife. He slices and stabs a couple more wolves while shooting as many of them as he can. They bite his legs, but he continues to stand, the old man will not give up. He runs out of bullets and drops the last gun. He pulls his other knife and finishes off three more wolves before they finally take him down. No dying in his sleep, it is a glorious death for this old war horse. 
 
 *** 
 Three days later, the military arrives four hours late. A wolf problem, they think. There are barely any of them out here. They pull over a small hill and see the town. They see something that does not look quite right. It looks like a group of dead horses. As they draw closer, they see what little remains of Vasily. The dead wolves are largely undisturbed in concentric circles around him. Their leader quickly counts the number of wolves. 
 
 `` Must have starved to death.'' 
 
 `` The old man? Oh the wolves. No, the townspeople say he killed all of them.'' 
 
 `` An old man could not kill 180 wolves by himself.'' 
 
 The younger man just smiles at him. 
 
 `` He was not just an old man. Stalin met him personally after the war to thank him. He was a Hero of the Soviet Union.'' 
 
 The group crests another hill and sees another 100 wolves dead. 
 
 `` You are right.'' The young man says. `` He could not kill ONLY 180 wolves by himself. Looks like it was more like 300.'' 
 
 *** 
 More stories are available at r/nickkkuvaas.
