Chapter 1228 I Think of Happy Things

Malashenko, who officially returned to the front line, found with some despair that the number of things he had to deal with was simply beyond imagination.

Sitting behind his desk, Malashenko stared blankly at the pile of documents on the table in front of him, spread his hands and asked the political commissar comrade who was in charge of guiding the work on the spot.

"Do I have to go through all of this personally? This is almost comparable to the library of Moscow State University. I have never seen so many documents that I need to handle."

Malashenko hates these scattered and trivial things. In the past, almost all of them were handled by Petrov's political commissar. Malashenko, who had a headache when seeing these various reports and documents, always hid whenever he could. Definitely not going to see it.

Although he had always allowed Malashenko to follow his own temper and ideas, this time, Commissar Petrov was somewhat resolute and decisive.

"These are the reorganization status of the troops. This pile is the detailed parameters and receipt reports of various new technical equipment that have arrived in these days. These are the specific loss lists and casualty summary reports from the last battle. Here is your During my absence, we sent and received various telegrams, including those from our superiors and some friendly forces. "

"There is also this pile. These are the summary reports and records of various major meetings held by the division during your absence. Some of them are required by your superiors to study. I have marked them with red marks on the cover for you. And this pile, this is"

"Wait, stop! Stop first!"

Malashenko, who felt that his whole body was about to burst, raised his hands to signal the political commissar to stop first. Let alone the table full of documents, if he really wanted to read them one by one, when would he be able to finish reading them? Comrade Political Commissar's continuous introduction and chatter had already made Malashenko's head explode.

"Okay, I'll take a look at the things here. Pick up the important ones first and tell me what is the highest priority and needs me to deal with immediately."

I had already guessed that Malashenko, who was not good at clerical work, would definitely behave like this. From the beginning, I had no intention of letting Malashenko go through them one by one. I just briefly reviewed them, at least to let Malashenko know that this was the case. I have a rough classification in my mind.

Political Commissar Petrov, who spoke with a hint of curvature, reached out from the pile of documents and pulled out a folder specially placed in a conspicuous position, turned around and handed it to Malashenko.

"This one is from the front army headquarters."

"Oh, by the way, I almost forgot to tell you. Our division is now affiliated with the First Ukrainian Front, and the commander is your old acquaintance, Comrade Vatutin. In addition to requiring our division to go to the front line immediately after receiving the equipment, the superiors also asked As soon as you, the division commander, arrive, you will report to the front army headquarters, attend combat meetings, and receive combat missions. Do you want to leave immediately? "

Malashenko, who took the document from the political commissar Petrov, flipped through it and read it quickly. The content described above is only a little more detailed than the summary of the political commissar, and there is no essential difference.

Realizing that he had to leave immediately before his butt was covered with heat, Malashenko sighed, thinking that returning to the frontline a day early was not necessarily a good thing.

"I can't help it. It's clearly written on it. I can't do it if I don't go."

"Prepare a car for me immediately. The snow shouldn't fall too much now. I'll eat something and take some important documents I'll read on the way. By the way, how far is the front army headquarters from us now? How long will it take for me to get there?”

Political Commissar Petrov, who had already made an itinerary for Malashenko and planned the route in advance, was naturally confident and gave Malashenko the answer without thinking.

"Don't think about driving there tonight. Let the car take you to the nearest field airport. The journey only takes two hours. Take the order from the Front Army Headquarters and find a plane to fly there directly. I have notified the airport in advance. They will be ready in the next few days when you come back, so there shouldn’t be any big problem.”

Following the direction of Commissar Petrov's finger, Malashenko looked at the map and basically figured out a rough route, but then a question came out of his mouth.

"You clean up, let's go together and leave the division headquarters to Lavrinenko."

Malashenko expected that the military-level combat meeting would not be so simple, but he did not want to suffer alone. Processing documents and recording meeting minutes was Commissar Petrov's specialty.

In the past, many meetings where non-military chiefs had to attend were usually held by political commissar Petrov. Malashenko felt that the staff officers and other things he brought casually were not designated as political commissars.

Political Commissar Petrov, who had not seen Malashenko for a long time, did not evade any unnecessary excuses. He just nodded and agreed to Malashenko's request, and then began to prepare the necessary things. and related documents.

Malashenko, who barely managed to catch up with lunch, set off as soon as he filled his stomach. Iushkin and Kirill were left behind, waiting in the snow in the winter. The new car is about to be delivered, and Sora is drooling.

Before leaving, Malashenko, who saw Iushkin's crazy look, thought that if Iushkin was not protected, he would have to sleep with his IS4 in his arms tonight. This was not a joke but a real possibility. God knows, this is becoming more and more scandalous. Xiang's bad boy can do anything.

In terms of obsession with tanks, no one in the entire crew dared to admit that he was more obsessed with tanks than Iushkin, as he himself said.

"Comrade Commander, if the tank could become a girl, I would definitely marry her!"

Malachenko still remembered how he responded at the time, and he almost choked Ivushkin to death.

"And then? You and your tank wife gave birth to a bunch of small tanks that drink diesel, you are really something."

Malachenko couldn't help laughing when he thought of this, and he shook his head while sitting in the seat of the cabin of the Li-2 transport plane that had already started to taxi on the runway. Political Commissar Petrov, who was sitting next to him, looked curious.

"What's wrong? What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing, I remembered something happy."

Comrade Political Commissar looked puzzled.

"What's the happy news?"

"Iushkin said he wanted to marry a tank. I asked him if he wanted to give birth to a bunch of tank sons, who would be fed with diesel and would be able to eat armor-piercing bullets when they grow up, and would call him daddy. Hahahahahahaha"

Malachenko, who felt so funny even when he said it, couldn't help laughing on the spot. Political Commissar Petrov, who quickly came back to his senses, couldn't help shaking his head and laughing.

Malachenko's slightly louder voice attracted more than a dozen comrades from friendly forces in the cabin who were also going to the front headquarters to laugh together, and they could hear it clearly.

The special plane flying to the headquarters of the First Ukrainian Front was filled with a happy atmosphere for a while.