Chapter 1577 Always Worthy of Respect

"Ah, damn, my head hurts so badly, damn!"

"One and a half pounds of vodka, plus a night of nightmares? Not fighting on the battlefield but not even sleeping well, what a cheap life!"

It's not a good thing to get up early in the morning and curse. Usually we call this a grouchy mood.

This situation does happen quite often, for example, Comrade Ma is in this state now.

Wearing his tank soldier's major general uniform, standing in front of the mirror to fix his clothes and face, Malashenko felt the long-lost morning comfort with a handful of water on his face, which more or less made this body that suffered from the war feel better.

With water drops all over his face, he raised his head and stared at the face in the mirror in front of him. Malashenko, who couldn't remember the last time he looked in the mirror, suddenly felt a little confused.

This life, this strange world, everything here did not belong to me. I just woke up and accidentally traveled to this place that no one wants to come to! I was involved in the largest ground conflict in human history and became one of the millions of soldiers fighting on the battlefield.

So far, I have experienced so much and paid hardships and efforts that I could never imagine in the past. So what can I get in the end? What can I get in return?

There are clear rewards for playing games and completing tasks, but Malashenko feels that the road ahead is endless and he doesn't know where he will go in the future.

"I just want to live an ordinary life and live a normal life! Which bastard brought me to this place that no one wants to come to? If I wake up and find myself lying in a hotel looking at the ceiling, I will laugh in my dreams!"

I was not a serious soldier, but I inherited the complete memory and body of a real soldier.

For Malashenko or Lin Jie, this is really a feeling that cannot be accurately described in words.

I am familiar with everything about the war. The first time I stayed in T34, I could operate all kinds of operations smoothly as if I was at home. This was all thanks to the previous real owner of this body.

But I am not the real Malashenko. I just inherited this name, this memory, this body, and everything related to this existence, that's all.

The double memories intertwined and conflicted in my mind. Malashenko didn't even know how to describe this scene where he could think of two parallel memories and experiences at the same time when he thought of the past.

There are colorful memories of playing FC game consoles, drinking orange soda, and taking pictures of cartoon cards. There is also a gray childhood in which I don't know who my parents are, I don't have a real reliable brother, and I only have Natalia, who has similar experiences and no parents and is ridiculed by children of the same age as me as a "white bandit bastard", to accompany each other.

This body is a battle-hardened body, strong and tall, but the real me is a military layman who has never served in the army.

While loving the roaring war machines that all real men like, you will also feel lost because of your current environment and the experiences you are experiencing, because this is not the path of life that should belong to you.

"Who am I? What am I doing? I am really fed up with this damn, endless war day after day!"

People are such strange creatures who constantly struggle in the vortex of contradictions and constantly try to find their true selves. Even with helplessness, they will still cheer up and choose to continue walking after venting.

There is a saying that this situation is called "man's responsibility."

Malashenko didn't know if he corresponded to this description or this situation, but when the door of the room was finally opened again after being closed last night.

In the eyes of passers-by in the corridor, it was still the tank hero who was more than 1.9 meters tall, like an iron tower, with a resolute expression like in the Red Army propaganda posters, and the Malashenko that everyone knew and praised.

"Ah, my head is about to hurt, my brother. What about you? How did you sleep last night? You look much better than me."

Comrade Kotin, who drank no less than Malashenko last night, did not go to work this morning. At least he is not working now. Maybe he will go to the workshop below to check the production situation. It is not suitable to preside over the meeting with the smell of alcohol that has not completely dissipated. Let's wait until the afternoon.

Sitting with Kotin in the public cafeteria, Malashenko scooped the most ordinary workers' meals on the plate in front of him with a spoon, and while he put it into his mouth and ate it with relish, he replied to Kotin.

"Like you, my head has just been repaired with glue from the cracked state."

"But the food treatment here is really good. The basic workers' breakfast is milk oatmeal porridge, which is almost catching up with our front line."

Malashenko was speaking the truth and speaking the truth. Kotin on the side just smiled a little when he heard this.

"Don't envy the good food here. This is what the workers deserve."

"You fought bloody battles on the front lines of war, and you went through life and death, but in the rear, right here, in this tank city, there is a battlefield without gunpowder. The workers work hard every day, day and night, and the machines have been scrapped three times, but the people are still the same group of people, the same old faces, and the skilled workers who are still the most loyal to the motherland."

"As the person who leads them, I can't give them too many things and guarantees. A delicious hot meal, a hot bath after working for more than ten hours in a row, and a wide enough bed to sleep peacefully, this is all I can do."

"They should and deserve the food on the plate, which is what we would rather risk our lives to protect."

Being eloquent is a skill on the lips, but Malashenko does not deny that what Kotin said is the correct fact.

What is the treatment that workers should enjoy?

This is the treatment that workers should enjoy!

They are not inferior people who sweat and do rough work in dirt. They are never inferior and should not be despised, looked down upon or even insulted in any form or in any way.

Like the Red Army soldiers fighting bloody battles on the front line, they are also soldiers fighting on the front line of defending the motherland. They are living heroes who selflessly dedicate themselves one after another, and they are the builders and defenders of the motherland.

Maybe I will forget a lot of things in the second half of my life as I get older, but now, Malashenko is sure that there is one thing he will never forget.

Those workers who fight on the front line of dedication to the country are always worthy of respect from anyone, even a general or a marshal, no matter when and where.