Chapter 14 The Terrifying Uncle

Dazed and helpless, he raised his head and returned his wet red eyes. A slightly surprised Malashenko discovered that this big boy who had just joined the Soviet Red Army was crying at this moment when his departure was imminent. Picked up the nose.

"Hey, that's all. After all, he's still just a little guy who has no experience in the world."

Sighing softly in his heart, he rolled up his sleeves and took a look at the mechanical watch that he had ripped off the corpse of a German officer and kept as his own. Seeing that there were still more than ten minutes left before departure, Malashenko finally decided to use I used this little spare time to have a good chat with the crying boy next to me.

"Come on, we'll talk about the rest later. Smoke this thing first. Red Army soldiers who know how to smoke will have stronger combat effectiveness!"

He coaxed and coaxed the cigarette into Kirill's mouth, using words he had made up on the spur of the moment. He reached out and took out the simple cigarette made from 62X54mm rifle shells in his pocket. After using a lighter and sliding his thumb over the grinding wheel, Malashenko immediately took the initiative to light Kirill's first cigarette in his life.

Unlike the German army and the U.S. Army, which uniformly distributed standard military logistics supplies such as finished cigarettes, the supplies distributed by the Soviet army during the war did not include boxes of commercial cigarettes.

Instead, Mahe tobacco, several sheets of cigarette paper, and a few boxes of matches and other miscellaneous cigarette raw materials were distributed and supplied.

In other words, if the Soviet Red Army wanted to smoke delicious and convenient cigarettes to relieve their tension and achieve relaxation during the war, they had to make cigarettes themselves.

As a result, Red Army soldiers who had little regard for personal hygiene during fierce battles often mixed dust and various impurities into tobacco to make cigarettes hastily.

In that era when there was a lack of sponge filters, you can imagine how natural the taste of the cigarettes made after such troubles was.

Soon, these Mahe tobaccos, which were loved by most of the Soviet Red Army soldiers who were already old smokers, directly addicted Kirill, who was young and had never been exposed to such things, after taking the first puff into his lungs. I choked to tears.

"Ahem, cough, sir, why is this thing so choking?"

Looking at the scene in front of Kirill holding a half-burned cigarette in his hand with snot and tears streaming down his face, Malashenko, who originally had a mediocre impression of this big boy, couldn't help but recall that he secretly smoked when he was in school. The first puff of cigarette scene.

"Haha, it's normal to feel choked at first. But in the days to come, when you become a qualified Red Army soldier, believe me Kirill, you will definitely fall in love with it again."

"But sir, I think I am not suitable to be a qualified loader, just like you said. I may not even be able to guarantee that I can do my job well in battle. If so, I will drag down our comrades. and comrades, I don’t want to be a burden or burden to you, comrade captain.”

Looking at Kirill's serious yet aggrieved expression in front of him, and recalling that he was generally in the same unconfident and confused state when he first entered society, Malashenko couldn't help but slow down his tone and speak softly. .

"You know, Kirill. When I was your age, I was as unsure and confused as you. But my mentor at the time told me this, he said: Stand up, boy ! Don’t let setbacks and failures defeat you so easily. No matter where you go, you must remember this! We are called men’s heroes! And there is no such thing as giving up and not being confident in the dictionary of heroes!

After finishing his words, he slowly turned his head. As a superior officer and senior, Malashenko looked at Kirill with eyes full of strength and confidence.

"Now, I hope I can pass this sentence on to you as a mentor, Kirill. Tell me, what are we called heroes!?"

Listening to these powerful words that sounded in his ears, Kirill couldn't help but burst into tears. Kirill, who had already been infected by Malashenko's high-spirited and uplifting spirit during the words, finally nodded and said after wiping away the tears on his cheeks. .

"Thank you! Thank you, Comrade Captain! We are all heroes called men!"

"Ha, that's right!"

After clapping his hands violently, Malashenko stood up from Kirill. Malashenko, who had already decided to accept this big boy as the new loader of his crew, immediately shouted at his No. 177 T34 tank. .

"Seryozha! Nikolai! You two little idiots, come here quickly, I have something to tell you!"

Hearing this loud call from Malashenko, the two people who were still in the tank preparing to warm up the vehicle and debug the weapons radio immediately jogged all the way to Malashenko's side.

"Here, let me introduce you two. This young comrade is called Kirill. From now on, he will serve as the new loader of our crew."

"Kiril, this is Seryosha, the driver of our crew. This is Nikolai, the electromechanical engineer and forward machine gunner of our crew. Let's get to know each other. The four of us will Let’s go together in the same tank to destroy those crispy invaders. Today is the beginning of our cooperation!”

After listening to Malashenko's introduction, Seryosha and Nikolai, who were of the same age as Kirill, immediately approached him enthusiastically and asked questions. They also came from ordinary Soviet rural families. The two of them had no grudges and accepted the new member Kirill almost without thinking.

"Hey, Kirill, can you be directly assigned to our tank division as a recruit? Which armor academy did you graduate from?"

While talking and laughing freely, Seryosha accidentally asked such a question. Kirill, who didn't think too much in his words, blurted out the truth to his new friends.

"Department of Music, Moscow State University, I am a fresh graduate who just graduated this year! But my family hopes that I can become a Red Army soldier like my uncle, so I was sent here by my uncle. But I am really happy now, I mean I got to know everyone and it was so fun! ”

After hearing Kirill's words, they couldn't help but look at each other in confusion. Malashenko, who was somewhat curious about the reason, was the first to ask.

"Kirill, if you could, could you tell me who your uncle is?"

"Of course, Comrade Captain."

With a smile on his face and still immersed in the new friendship without any hypocrisy or reservation, Kirill blurted out without thinking and then revealed the serious truth that shocked the other three people present.

"My uncle is Lieutenant Colonel Petrov, the political commissar and captain of our 20th Tank Division."