Chapter 1686: Keep Moving Forward

After a tiring day, Malashenko did not stay up too late. After he estimated that the time was almost up, he went to bed early to prepare for tomorrow's battle.

After watching the division commander go to sleep, the political commissar chose to stay and continue to work the night shift.

It's not that something big will happen tonight and someone must be on duty. In this situation, even the political commissar feels that the Germans can't make any big waves.

The main reason is that the political commissar has a lot of reports that were just compiled today, piled up into a small mountain. It stands to reason that there are many things in them that Malashenko is responsible for and the division commander should do. But considering that Malashenko will go to the battlefield tomorrow and command the battle in person, the political commissar simply took all these tasks and did it himself.

Malashenko just needs to have a good sleep and take out full energy to deal with tomorrow's battle. It's that simple.

Malashenko, lying on the simple camp bed, would also wonder what Natalia is doing in distant Moscow at this moment? Is she asleep? Or was he lying in bed thinking about something like me?

Malashenko, who was just killing time before going to bed, started snoring after a while, as loud as thunder. Even the political commissar who was working outside could hear it clearly. It was said that the "heartless" rough man fell asleep so quickly.

"Go to sleep. It's also a kind of happiness to have time to sleep. Just think of it as compensation for your running around all day."

When he woke up, the sun was about to rise. Malashenko, who was sitting at the head of the bed and rubbing his eyes, felt that he had dreamed a lot last night, but he couldn't remember what he dreamed about after covering his head and thinking carefully for a while. In the end, he could only take out the cigarette box, touch a cigarette, put it in his mouth, put on his coat, lit the cigarette, and then got up and pushed the door out.

"Damn, this must be another sleepless night."

The first sentence when Malashenko got up in the morning was an exclamation, because as soon as he pushed the door out, he saw the political commissar sleeping on the table, with a document under his arm that he didn't know whether it had been revised or not, and he was sleeping soundly.

""

Without saying anything else, Malashenko took off the coat on the clothes drying rack, walked up slowly and put it on Political Commissar Petrov, not wanting to wake him up. The temperature difference between day and night in the grassland at this season is still very different.

But even such a slight action did not work. The Political Commissar, who had developed the habit of sleeping lightly for many years, woke up the moment he felt the weight of the clothes on his body change, and then subconsciously raised his head and looked around. He was relieved when he found that Malashenko was standing next to him.

"What kind of rest is sleeping on the table? If you are sleepy, throw these toilet paper aside. The body is the capital of the revolution. You can't even give up your life for these broken things."

Before the Political Commissar could speak, Malashenko came up with a barrage of honest and unpleasant words. After hearing this, the Political Commissar just smiled casually after calming down.

"What's the point of my body? Time is running out. I have to seize the last time to do more meaningful things, at least leave some deeds in the book for future generations to judge."

"Alas"

There is a generation gap in the thinking of young people and old people, whether in the future world or in the ancient times. Malashenko feels that this is also the case between himself and the political commissar.

"I went to see Karachev two days ago, and he told me that your recent condition is not bad. It has been a long time since the dosage of medicine has been increased. This is a good situation. Why can't you cherish your body more and try to maintain this state for a while? You are burning and consuming your life. Staying up all night is tantamount to taking chronic poison to commit suicide for you now. You know this."

Maybe his advice is useless, but there are some things that you still have to do even if you know it is useless. Malashenko chose to say this because he understood this.

Malashenko's advice was sincere, and Political Commissar Petrov could certainly see this, but some things were not so important to the Political Commissar who had already seen through everything.

"I can feel the changes in my body, Malashenko. If I feel the need, I will go to rest early. You have advised me many times, and I always remember it."

"Compared to this, shouldn't you pack up and get ready to go? There are less than 30 minutes left before the artillery preparation begins. You can take this opportunity to eat something, so as not to be hungry again until dinner."

""

Malashenko couldn't say anything else, and he couldn't even be sure whether his advice was effective. In any case, the final result was the current situation.

After getting up and packing his luggage, Malashenko finished dressing, and the orderly brought the breakfast he had just brought to Malashenko: it was milk oatmeal porridge with bread. Such a breakfast can only be said to be ordinary in Stalin's First Guards Tank Division.

"Leave it there, I'll eat it right away, you go down first."

"Okay, comrade division commander."

The taste of this breakfast is not very good, but at least it is not bad. Feeling that the taste is a bit bland, Malashenko sprinkled some sugar in it to enhance the taste.

Almost full and satisfied, Malashenko grabbed the tank cap on the table and walked out of the divisional field tent. When he came outside, he saw Iushkin and his crewmates making final preparations.

Several big men were busy and excited around the tank. When they saw Malashenko coming, they stopped what they were doing and asked.

"Hurry up, we guys can't wait. How many fascists are we going to kill today? I hope there will be more than yesterday!"

The increasingly violent Iushkin is becoming more and more war-mad, but Malashenko thinks this is a good thing. As long as he can kill those fascists, this is at least much stronger than the war-weariness.

"I don't know. Today's destination is to surround the rendezvous point. Once we hit there, we have completed the mission. The next step is to close the door and beat the dog. You like this the most, don't you?"

Malashenko, who was in a good mood, had the idea to make a joke with Iushkin, and the artillery preparations that heralded the official start of today's battle were coming soon.

Boom boom boom——

There were large cannons firing randomly, explosions and roars, and the earth shaking like yesterday. Like Malashenko, Iushkin, half of his body hanging outside the turret, was a little curious.

"Didn't you say that there are no German defensive positions ahead? We pushed them all away yesterday, so what are they bombing?"

Malashenko shook his head.

"I am the commander of the tank division, not the commander of the artillery division. You will know what is being blown up later when the tanks drive up."