Chapter 1135 Equal Damage

Few people have seen Malashenko's tears. The eyes of the brigade commander are almost full of determination when facing the enemy, and warmth and kindness when facing his comrades.

Although the tears did not flow out of his eyes, Political Commissar Petrov clearly saw the crystal light flashing in the corners of Malashenko's eyes, and even the color of his eyes changed.

Malashenko loosened his hands, turned and walked in front of Political Commissar Petrov, and his slightly raised right hand touched the face of the Political Commissar, which he had not touched for a long time.

"I always thought you were just overworked, often stayed up late and didn't eat well. I was so stupid! Really, no one is more stupid and naive than me."

Standing in place, Political Commissar Petrov could feel the warmth of his fingertips passing across his cheek, and he knew what Malashenko meant.

In order to prevent Malashenko from seeing his increasingly yellow face, Political Commissar Petrov sometimes even deliberately smudged his face, making it look like he had just returned from inspecting the troops below.

The complications caused by pancreatic cancer had already made this originally strong body covered with scars, and the white face was made sickly yellow by the complications of jaundice. At first glance, it was covered on the original skin color, and it even felt like a different person. After looking in the mirror, Political Commissar Petrov knew that his body could never return to its previous state.

"He said you have pancreatic cancer, I don't believe it's true, I'm right to do this, right?"

When humans are desperate, they always wishfully believe in those beautiful things that they hope for in their ideals.

This is the common situation of most people, not just Malashenko.

Political Commissar Petrov, who has experienced this experience personally and empathized with it, exhaled lightly, and finally slowly spoke to Malashenko.

"One day I will leave you, Malashenko, just like an eagle will learn to fly high one day. This day has just arrived sooner, in a way we didn't expect, but we have to accept it."

Political Commissar Petrov spoke very softly, sounding like a father teaching life philosophy, rather than a way of communication between comrades.

Malashenko, with red eyes, half opened his mouth and took a deep breath. Although he had expected the result to be like this, he still couldn't accept it at all.

Malashenko turned his head and covered his mouth and nose with his hands. His eyes, which had nowhere to go, were like a radar antenna interfered by ground clutter, scanning around non-stop. In his helplessness, he didn't know where to look. The sound of his breathing was already obviously filled with the taste of a changed tone. (っ◔◡◔)っ

This scene continued, and Political Commissar Petrov, looking at Malashenko's back, felt an indescribable taste in his heart.

In the foreseeable future, I will bid farewell to this land I love deeply, bid farewell to the motherland that I have followed my faith and united under the red flag, and guarded for most of my life with my comrades, but these are not unacceptable to Political Commissar Petrov, who has experienced too much.

What Political Commissar Petrov is really concerned about and worried about is the young man in front of him who has too many similarities and overlaps with his experience when he was young, but has gone further in the short time so far.

Political Commissar Petrov once hoped that he could witness with his own eyes what kind of path Malashenko would take as a bystander, comrade-in-arms, comrade, and former mentor, and see what kind of future this young man who brought him too many unexpected and bright things would usher in.

It has only been two short years since the outbreak of the war in 1941 that he really got to know and get along with Malashenko.

But it was during these two years that Political Commissar Petrov and Malashenko got closer and closer on the common road, moving forward side by side, and the two resolute backs almost overlapped.

For both Malashenko and Political Commissar Petrov, the other's existence had long surpassed ordinary comrades and colleagues, and was more like a family living together under the same roof. This was a kind of emotion that was almost the same as blood and flesh, but it was more profound and irreplaceable, and was tempered by the common experience of suffering.

Escape and unwillingness to face it could not change the facts. Political Commissar Petrov, whose psychological endurance was far superior to Malashenko, maintained the bottom line of strength, forcibly suppressed the strong emotions in his heart, stepped forward, and patted Malashenko's shoulder with his back to him.

"Lead everyone to retreat. This is more important than what happened to me. You are not only my comrade and relative, but also the commander of all the comrades of the entire Stalin Guards First Heavy Tank Brigade."

If possible, Malashenko really wanted to turn his head and shout to the sky: I quit this shitty brigade commander! What could be more important than your illness?

A person's growth is always subtle, and invisible growth will always beat deliberate disguise, just like Malashenko now.

Malashenko did not act according to his personal feelings and strong will. The responsibilities and burdens on his shoulders allowed him to clearly feel the preciousness of the lives of those comrades who trusted him and willingly handed their lives over to him.

Malashenko had no right to let those sincere and flawless comrades who were not a bit hypocritical pay the price of their lives because of his momentary madness.

Whether in the past life or this life, the same soul in different containers has never been a self-interested person like Cao Cao who would rather let the world betray me than let the world betray me.

If Malashenko was such a person, he would not have resonated with Political Commissar Petrov, fighting side by side and moving forward on the same road. The division between people is not just a simple saying.

He wiped his chin and wiped away the liquid that had already flowed out of the corners of his eyes while turning his back.

As he turned around, Malashenko, who had thought he had really hardened his heart, finally woke up and understood a seemingly simple truth.

Whether in the past life or this life, he was still at an age where he could not accept the departure of his loved ones.

Whether it was war or illness, the feeling of being ruthlessly taken away by important people was always so similar.

Once again facing Political Commissar Petrov, who should have been very familiar, but now felt as if there was an invisible wall between them, Malashenko felt an indescribable feeling in his heart.

Even though he stood there for a full half a minute to taste the bitterness, in the end Malashenko could only pass by the Political Commissar in sadness.

"Notify the troops and prepare to retreat."