Chapter 1611 Composer

There are many things in life that are worth doing and must be done. Malashenko felt that he had only done what he should and must do.

Under the attack of this dark tide of the abyss, the soldiers need to have high morale, indestructible will, and tenacious determination to win this cruel war that will last at least another year.

As their division commander, Malashenko has an obligation to do so. And judging from the final result, it is obviously worthwhile and effective to do so.

"Who wrote this song? Where did you get such a great song?"

When Malashenko stepped down and sat back in his seat, Political Commissar Petrov on the side took the lead in asking questions, and both his voice and the expression on his face seemed a little impatient.

Comrade Political Commissar was curious, but this stumped Comrade Ma.

"Well, if I say that this is my own creation, will you believe it?"

? ? ?

Looking at the question mark on Comrade Political Commissar's face, Malashenko knew that such an answer would definitely shock Comrade Political Commissar.

But many times you have no other choice, because this song is not created in this era, but brought by Malashenko from the future world according to his memory.

The reason why Malashenko can remember the song "How I Want to Live" so clearly is that this song does have a very high creative artistic conception, which is very consistent with the bloody fight and sacrifice of the soldiers on the battlefield.

Secondly, this song was actually the favorite song of Rosov, the great-grandson of Lavrinenko, the roommate and best friend of Comrade Lao Ma before crossing.

As the descendants of heroes, Lavrinenko's son and grandson, that is, Rosov's grandfather and father, are also from the Soviet Red Army, and they are all tank soldiers like their ancestors.

At the time of the disintegration in 1991, Rosov's father was a member of the Moscow garrison, a commander of a T80U main battle tank, and was still very young when he just got married.

According to Rosov, his father's impression of the disintegration of the motherland was: there was no sign, it was fine the day before, and he woke up early the next morning and was suddenly told that the motherland was gone, disintegrated, and returned to the old Russian era.

Rosov's father was in a "stupid" state almost every day during that period. He practiced his professional skills and always thought that one day he would be like his ancestors, driving a tank to the battlefield and defending the motherland. He would never have thought that the motherland he was obsessed with and was willing to sacrifice his life for was actually broken from the inside by a group of traitors.

What followed in the midst of his loss of soul was the fall into the abyss of life.

In order to get money to feed his pregnant wife and keep the children nourished, Rosov's father was almost crazy at that time.

The superiors of the troops who had just disintegrated were in chaos. Not to mention the money, these tank soldiers of the Moscow garrison didn't know who they should obey for a long time.

The tank soldiers who couldn't get money and had to support their families had no choice but to focus on their most important companions, the steel-bodied mounts.

"We sold shells, carefully unscrewed the propellant, poured out the gunpowder inside, and exchanged them for money when we had a truckload of them. After that, we put the shells without propellant back and screwed them up, so that they looked intact as before. This was to deal with possible inspections by superiors."

"We also had to keep a few good shells in reserve, in case the superiors came to inspect and asked us to fire two rounds on a whim. It would be terrible if none of them fired."

When Rosov asked his father how he survived those dark days, his father told him this, and then Rosov repeated it to Malashenko.

"My father's unit never went on combat missions, but I heard that some tank units were later transferred to fight Chechnya, and they also engaged in this kind of reselling of military supplies."

"You can imagine what the scene would be like. There are more than 30 shells in a tank, but there are only a few shells that can actually be fired and have propellants. The rest are all empty shells. The soldiers in front shouted loudly for the tank to blow up the machine gun, and the tanks behind were loaded with dozens of empty shells without propellants and stared blankly. It's crazy and sad to think about it."

Malachenko still remembers Rosov's lonely face when he said this, but he was relieved immediately afterwards.

"Of course, I don't blame my dad. They had no choice in that situation. How many soldiers would be willing to attack their military partners? Those equipments are alive to them, and they take good care of them like old comrades. It's all the fault of these traitors to the motherland! They did such a thing for their own selfish desires, ruined the bloodshed and sacrifice of countless people, and made all the efforts go to waste. It's really hateful."

"Hey! Comrade Division Commander?"

Malachenko, who was briefly immersed in the tide of memories, was called back to reality by the call of the political commissar beside him. After he came back to his soul, he turned his head and answered Political Commissar Petrov.

"What's wrong? What's the matter?"

"Nothing, you often get distracted recently, are you thinking about something?"

Comrade Commissar saw at a glance that Comrade Lao Ma was definitely thinking about something. Malachenko also knew that he couldn't hide his state when he was thinking about things from Comrade Commissar, but he couldn't tell the truth about what he was thinking about.

"I'm thinking of finding someone to help me compose the music for this song. Isn't the lyrics already available? Since the soldiers' response is so enthusiastic, we should try to promote this song. If it can cause a response in more front-line troops, I think it would be a good thing."

Although this is a song from the 21st century, the artistic conception between the lyrics and the music is similar, and it can be compared with the current situation of the Patriotic War, so Malashenko made this suggestion.

Hearing what Malashenko said, the political commissar, who had originally planned to do so, also nodded and responded to Malashenko in an approving tone.

"I agree with this suggestion. I think you can go to Valeski to discuss the specific details. When I talked to him before, I heard that he was a composer before joining the Red Flag Song and Dance Troupe. Maybe he is an expert in this field. If he helps, your song may soon be sung everywhere on the front line."

In fact, even if the political commissar didn't say it, Valeski had already done so at this moment.

Valeski, holding a notebook and a pencil in his hand, is now excited!

He had seen the solemn scene of the soldiers wiping tears in the audience. The song was so infectious that even Valeski was disturbed and his eyes were red.

The notepad recorded the lyrics of what Malashenko had just sung. "I Want to Live" was not a song with a very fast speed, but rather a very slow one. With the complete lyrics, Valeski swore that he had never heard of such a song before. Maybe it was originally written by General Malashenko! He had to ask Comrade General for clarification, and it would be best if he could get authorization to assist in the creation.

If so, Valeski was almost certain that his name would soon be known throughout the country by the wind of Malashenko.