Chapter 277 Disease Attacks

I can’t remember how many nights I have spent in Leningrad. Due to heavy casualties in the army, I led the remaining eight KV1 heavy tanks to retreat to the edge of Leningrad for a temporary rest. Temporarily away from the roaring artillery fire and death on the front line, Malashenko was entangled in pain and illness and shivered all over.

“Comrade, you haven’t eaten for a day. If you continue like this, your body will not be able to bear it. You should eat something hot first to save your body.”

Pinching the last cigarette butt in his hand, his lips trembled slightly. He felt like he was in a steamer and answered with trembling words.

"Don't worry about me, Kirill, you guys share the food. I feel like I'm in a bread oven now, I can't eat anything at all. It's a waste to keep these foods here, you guys share them while they're hot, this is an order."

Pinching the last bit of unfiltered cigarette butt in his hand, Malashenko, who felt like he was in a steaming steamer a moment ago, suddenly shuddered all over. The icy cold that hit him so suddenly was like standing naked in the snow and ice, making people feel like falling into an ice cave.

"Damn it! Just now I felt like I was stuffed into a bread oven, and now I feel like I was stripped naked and thrown into Siberia in winter. What the hell is this disease!"

Coming from the highly developed medical technology era in the future, Malashenko has never suffered from such a bunch of diseases in his short twenty years of life. He has no idea what's going on with his situation.

But Malashenko, a time traveler from the future, didn't know what disease he had, but that didn't mean Kirill, a native of this era, didn't know.

Seeing Malashenko being tortured by the hot and cold symptoms and unable to even flick out a cigarette, Kirill, who had roughly guessed what was going on with Malashenko, spoke again with an anxious look.

"Comrade Malashenko, have you been bitten by mosquitoes or other small insects in the grass before?"

Mosquitoes? Small insects?

Malashenko, who felt like he had fallen into an ice hole, curled up in the corner and hugged his limbs. He barely heard Kirill's words while trembling. After a brief thought, he only shook his head.

"A few days ago, we slept in the grass in the wild every day. What's the point of asking me if I have been bitten by mosquitoes now? If you are not bitten by mosquitoes every night when you sleep, are you still a human being? Even elephants are no more than that."

The fact is exactly as Malashenko said now.

At the junction of late summer and early autumn, the suburbs of Leningrad are simply a paradise for mosquitoes and various small insects to revel in the evening. Not counting the long legs, the big mosquitoes, whose belly and body are half the length of a matchstick, will immediately come out of the grass in groups as soon as the sun sets, and frantically suck human blood to fill their stomachs and feed their offspring.

The people living on this land are a fighting nation, but the scariest thing is that even the mosquitoes bred on this fertile land are well-deserved fighting mosquitoes. Even the cold wind in Leningrad at night with a temperature of more than ten degrees cannot stop the blood-sucking desire of these crazy predators. The rainy late summer and early autumn seasons and the suburban wilderness provide them with a natural breeding ground.

Malashenko felt that he was almost carried away by the swarms of mosquitoes in the buzzing sound. Although he was extremely annoyed, he had no choice but to take out his officer's uniform coat, cover all the exposed skin on his body as much as possible, and sleep.

But even so, once he closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep without any consciousness, Malashenko would still be bitten by the mosquitoes that penetrated everywhere. The first thing he did the next morning when he woke up from his sleep was to scratch his skin to relieve the itch.

Malashenko thought that he was unlucky enough to donate blood to mosquitoes every day, but he didn't expect that these terrible fighting mosquitoes would not only suck his blood, but also spread infectious diseases, which are extremely terrible in this era of relatively backward medical conditions.

Thinking of the scene in which he was bitten by mosquitoes in the past few days and even jumped and scratched constantly when walking, Malashenko, who was almost certain of the source of his illness in a trance, felt a chill in his heart.

"Damn it! Mosquitoes don't spread diseases, but once they infect people, it's definitely not a minor disease! I didn't hand it over to the Germans, but was killed by mosquitoes. Why am I so unlucky?"

Malashenko, who was filled with grief and anger, just sighed and didn't notice that Kirill, who was holding his lunch box, had already run away without a trace and didn't know where he went.

A moment later, when Kirill, who looked hurried, came back with the military doctor, Malashenko, who was so limp that he didn't even have the strength to hold the lighter, was shaking with a cigarette in his mouth.

"Comrade Battalion Commander, please look at me! Tell me how long you have been in this state!?"

After hearing the loud call, Malashenko realized that someone was coming. He turned around tremblingly. His bloodshot eyes were full of red threads. Just looking at them was enough to stop a child from crying. Malashenko, whose condition was getting worse and worse and he almost had no strength to speak, spoke slowly and weakly.

"Two days, maybe three days? At first I thought it was a fever and a cold, and then I felt sore in my limbs. By this morning I almost had to walk with the help of the wall. As for the current situation, you can see that I don't even have the strength to hold the lighter."

After moving his lips laboriously, he smiled faintly with an embarrassed and pale face. Malashenko, who felt exhausted and felt that he was about to die, almost had no hope at the moment.

In the era when antibiotics were not yet popular, what terrible consequences would be after contracting a highly contagious disease? For Malashenko, a time traveler from the future, it was almost something he could guess with his heels.