Chapter 1380 Great Warrior

"How is it going?"

Malashenko went straight to the point. Karachev, whose expression seemed to have changed slightly, frowned, then pointed his head to one side and spoke softly.

"There are too many people, come over here and say it."

This time, Karachev spoke in English, an English that only two people present could understand.

After walking out of the tent and coming outside, Karachev lit a cigarette for himself before Malashenko could follow him. He spoke slowly with a melancholy expression amid the smoke.

"The situation is very bad. Before I start talking, you have to prepare yourself mentally."

Malashenko, who had probably guessed what Karachev would say, was not surprised. He took a deep breath and then spoke quietly.

"Go ahead, I'm ready."

""

"The cancer cells have metastasized to the lungs and caused a large number of lesions. Not only can Comrade Political Commissar not be able to breathe too much cool air now, but it is also impossible to smoke. If the lung sounds of a normal person are compared to the sound of a handloom working, then Comrade Political Commissar Comrade, the lung sound you are hearing right now is the engine noise of your heavy tank vehicle."

"Painkillers treat the symptoms but not the root cause. Just like drugs, they can only paralyze and delay. It is like blindly escaping without facing it. In fact, there is no way to cure this cancer at all.

At this point, Karachev's tone was obviously paused, and even the fingers holding the cigarette trembled slightly.

"No medical treatment can be said to be effective anymore. Apart from painkillers, now we can only rely on the willpower of the political commissar. He may die tomorrow, maybe the day after tomorrow, but it may be further away. The next few years. Forgive me for using the word "death" to describe this end, but it is true, and I know you understand what I am trying to say."

Some things are facts, but when you really want to blurt them out and tell them truthfully, you find it is not easy.

Death is the end of every warrior, and he may face it in the next second. But the result of death from illness rather than death in battle seems a little less than perfect for Comrade Political Commissar

"It means that we can only leave it to fate. How long will it take to live?"

Malashenko's tone was very calm, as if he was talking about an ordinary and ordinary matter, not a matter of life and death for Comrade Political Commissar, which actually surprised Karachev slightly.

"You can say that, in fact, this is what I want you to understand. I'm sorry, Comrade Commander, I have tried my best, but there is really nothing I can do this time.

In the past, Karachev always told Malashenko that the situation was getting better, but this time he really couldn't hold back anything nice and could only tell Malashenko the worst news.

Unexpectedly, after hearing such bad news, Malashenko remained as calm as before, without even blinking.

Kalachev was a little panicked. He didn't know what Malashenko's performance meant. Could it be the last tranquility before the volcano erupted?

Until the end, Malashenko still showed nothing and said nothing. He stamped out the cigarette butts thrown on the ground and then turned away and walked into the tent again, leaving Karachi alone. The husband was alone in the wind.

"Tell me, how many days do I have to live?"

It was a bit embarrassing to make such an opening statement as soon as he entered the door. Comrade Comrade Political Commissar sat at the table, holding a glass of boiling water and looking at Malashenko.

Lao Ma's eyes were complicated, and he was about to say something, but before he could say anything, Comrade Political Commissar coughed several times in succession, clutching his chest with a sad expression, as if he couldn't breathe. It must be fatal.

"Damn! You're already like this and you're still holding on. If it doesn't work, just hurry up."

"What do you do first? Withdraw from the front line first, retreat to the second line, and then lie in the hospital bed all day long and be waited on in the rear like an old man who is about to die. Then listen to the radio and read the newspaper, looking forward to it day and night. With the news of the Red Army’s victory in Berlin? Don’t be kidding, Malashenko, you know I’m not that kind of person, never will be.”

""

If he could curse someone at this moment, Malashenko would have to curse, "Are you fucking crazy? Why are you so stubborn after all? Isn't it interesting?"

Unfortunately, the person in front of him was Comrade Political Commissar, so it was impossible for Malashenko to say this and he could not say it.

Malashenko knew very well what staying on the front line meant to Comrade Political Commissar. This veteran party member who joined the Red Army before he was an adult has devoted his life to the noble and great cause of communism.

Wherever I am needed, I will go wherever the organization orders me.

Army, Party School, Ministry of Internal Affairs, soldiers, commanders, political commissars, blue hats.

Comrade political commissar has been to too many places and held too many positions in his life, but without exception, he has worked tirelessly to build and defend the cause of communism.

For such a person, a legendary being, when he was about to die, he was forced to withdraw from the career he had been fighting for all his life, and he came to the end of his life in regret. This is undoubtedly a very unusual situation. Cruel act.

In terms of emotion, Malashenko sincerely hopes that Comrade Political Commissar can live longer and must survive until the day of final victory.

Unreasonably, Malashenko knew that he had no right or qualification to force such an old Red Army and party member to leave his battlefield. The result of the slightest opening of his lips may be the regretful death of Comrade Political Commissar.

Without this thought in his heart and the support of willpower derived from the environment he was in, Malashenko was really unsure how long Comrade Political Commissar could persist in such an environment. Maybe the political commissar lying on the hospital bed would die soon. This was not impossible. Malashenko, who didn't know whether to follow reason or personal emotions, couldn't make up his mind for a while.

"Okay, don't hesitate. I know what's going on with my body. This is the choice I made, and I will never regret it! Only by staying here can I have the courage and perseverance to persevere. Lying on the hospital bed, I just It will make me die faster. I have made it very clear, don’t cough on me. Don’t cough on me.”

"enough!"

Malashenko, who couldn't bear it anymore, stopped, and some imperceptible changes in his mood actually completed the transformation at this time.

"Stop talking, no one is asking you to leave the front line. What you have to do now is to have a good rest. Winter is over, and spring is coming to us. When the weather gets warmer, your lung problems will be much better, that's it. Come on, rest first, let’s talk about other things after you rest! This is the commander’s order!”